Composition of fixed the picture

Whether in school or in society, you are always exposed to writing. Writing is an important means to cultivate people's observation, association, imagination, thinking and memory. There are many points for attention in composition. Are you sure you can write? The following is a compilation of 15 freeze-frame pictures I collected for you. I hope it will help you.

15 1 Time flies like water, and many things are slowly changing with the stone. The blurred picture, the picture fixed in memory, strikes again. ...

I deeply remember a night preparing for the exam many years ago. At night, there was silence. I lay in bed and couldn't sleep for a long time. Great pressure before the exam and frustration accumulated again and again in my chest. I seem to be looking for a breakthrough. If I'm not careful, I'll vent. There is no sound around except the ticking of the alarm clock. Everything is quiet. My thoughts are intertwined from the past to the present, so I have no courage to review any more. No matter how hard you try, you haven't made any progress. This is, my stomach growled twice, and I went to the refrigerator myself. I didn't want to find something to eat, but I ran into my mother. He worked hard in bed, as if I had just woken him up. He looked at me and I replied softly, "I'm a little hungry." "Wait a minute, there are some jiaozi in the refrigerator ..." Before I finished, I got up and went to that jiaozi in the refrigerator, in a hurry. I decided to pull up my chair and sit down. The night is still the same, quiet as a stagnant pool, all the creatures are submerged, and everything is comfortable and quiet. It seems that everything is just me and my mother. My mother's figure is reflected on the glass. In a short time, jiaozi was out of the pot, and a lot of steam gushed out. Courage gradually blurred, and mother's figure blurred. I can only show my mother's back and forth in glass. I don't know why, this picture is fixed in my mind, and I can't get it out. ...

After a while, mother put jiaozi on the table. She saw that I was satisfied with my food, smiled, got up and went to work again.

Many years later, whenever it rains, I will think of a picture in my mind: on a quiet night, my mother cooked jiaozi for me, and the water vapor blurred her figure, silently conveying love and encouragement, and then the warmth came to my mind, even if it was a big storm, it could be easily broken.

Compilation of freeze-frame picture composition 15 The second chapter is another dusk.

The phoenix tree flowers outside the window are quietly open, like a small purple umbrella. Occasionally, the wind blows and the flowers fall quietly ... Watching the phoenix tree flowers fall quietly and slowly float to the ground, my thoughts go back to the past. ...

I finally left home because of something and went to that familiar street. It's still that way, but I've never seen it carefully. While enjoying myself, I came to the bus stop. There are already many people waiting there, so I have to squeeze hard at the edge.

Bus after bus has come, and people have gone more than half, but I have never seen the one I expected. I looked at my watch. Ten minutes later, I watched anxiously. Hardly had I put my head out a little when I felt the rain fall on my face. It's cool. I looked up and saw raindrops the size of beans falling from the sky, hitting the ground and splashing around. It was raining harder and harder, so I tried to hide and hide. Finally, I saw the car in a vague sight, and people rushed to get on the bus, of course, I was no exception.

Because of the rain, the car drove very slowly. At another stop, the car stopped. Gloomy weather can't bring a good mood. After he went to bed, people's mood became worse. He was wearing overalls and covered in mud on rainy days. The rain fell from his face and he seemed to feel the disgust of others. He slowly lowered his head, carefully walked to the end and sat down, staring out of the window.

I don't know how many stops passed before the bus stopped again. People focus on the door, and no one wants such people to come up again. But I didn't see anyone. I was about to close the door when I heard a voice: "Please wait a moment." He limped slowly to the ground, and the driver asked softly, "Who can give up his seat?"

The whole car was silent, and he stood there, wobbling. I just wanted to stand up, but I saw the worker stand up and say, "You sit here with me! I stand for a while. "

"No, no," he repeated. "Sit down. It's okay."

The whole car looked at him, silent, but with admiration.

The phoenix tree flowers outside the window are blooming again, and I think of that again. ...

The road was muddy after the rain. My feet were covered with mud and my shoes fell off several times. Finally, I simply took off my shoes, put them in my hands and trudged on the muddy road. Walking, the students around me suddenly "Oh" and then bent down to look at the ground. I leaned down and saw that it was a butterfly that was wet by heavy rain. One of its wings was trampled in the mud by my classmate's feet.

That is a pure black butterfly. The rainstorm brought disaster to it, and the classmate's foot made it worse. Although a wing is constantly shaking, it can't fly. Probably tired, the butterfly suddenly stopped moving. When the classmate was about to help it with his hand, the butterfly flapped its wings again, perhaps because of the preparation just now, the frequency of shaking was obviously accelerated. Little by little, its trampled wings were slowly pulled out of the mud. The miracle finally appeared. When its wings are pulled out, it flies into the sky, blue sky and its own free space.

My heart was deeply shocked by the sight at that moment. This picture fixed in my memory has given me great enlightenment: what is the belief that a weak creature can make such a touching move when his life is at stake? What is its pursuit? I've thought about it for a long time, but I can't find an accurate answer. Suddenly, the fluttering wings of the butterfly appeared in front of us. Isn't this the best answer?

I never saw butterflies again in that hot summer. But there is an inexplicable impulse and enthusiasm in my heart, which inspires me to study selflessly and live a positive and optimistic life. I know very well that this persistence and enthusiasm come from the frozen picture in my memory-the injured butterfly keeps flapping its wings and flying.

Recommended reason: This is a model essay for the senior high school entrance examination, which cleverly divides the writing angle and makes the process of a butterfly overcoming setbacks and regaining its life delicate and touching. When writing a composition, students should also pay attention to the novelty of the subject matter and the narrative angle.

This article is worth learning: the selection of materials is novel, the description is exquisite, and the last two paragraphs are just right.

That night, I sat alone by the window doing my homework and heard a muffled thunder in the distance. I thought it was going to rain.

The sky is overcast and there is no moonlight. A little boring. So I opened the window and a slight breeze blew in, reducing the boredom at home.

There was another thunder, and in an instant the whole building was blacked out. I secretly said, what bad weather? How do I do my homework? I went downstairs in slippers to get some air. I was walking when it suddenly started to rain cats and dogs. I hurried to the nearest building to take shelter from the rain. "What bad weather? It rains when it rains. " Muttered in his mouth. I heard a comment upstairs: "Why is the power cut off?" "Generally speaking, wires will be short-circuited because of rain." As soon as I heard it, I knew it was caused by aging equipment.

I waited in the cave for a long time, but the rain didn't stop, but it rained even harder. "Well, when can I go home?" I thought to myself.

A motorcycle is coming from a distance. The cyclist is wearing a different black raincoat and holding something in his hand. I didn't see him clearly. He took a ladder from the car. I wonder if he is a thief. So he went out a little and saw him pick up the ladder and put it on the telephone pole. He got up slowly, looking a little hard, slowly opened the toolbox he carried with him and began to repair the short-circuited wire. There was a flash of lightning in the distance, and I finally saw his face clearly, with a dozen wrinkles and white hair, and his face was wet by the rain, showing a very hard look.

After fixing the wire, he rushed to the hole in my building. Parked in a place where it didn't rain, walked into the building and asked kindly, "Why haven't the children come home yet?" It's raining so hard. " I said, "My home is just over there. It's too stuffy at home, so I'll come out for some air. " After a brief chat with him, I realized that he was 56 years old, because he had been an employee repairing wires before retirement. So after retirement, there is nothing to do at home, so I will continue to stick to this job.

I admire him very much. Still doing this kind of work at such a big age, no matter what season. This matter is fixed in my memory, and his resolute face will always be fixed in my heart.

The pictures fixed in memory are often beautiful, unforgettable and positive. I have an unforgettable thing.

Once I went to Mudanjiang to see my brother. My mother asked me to take a bus to see my brother because of something. My mother let me get off at the Children's Palace, so I listened to my mother and got off at the Children's Palace. But I didn't know what a "stranger" was until I got off the bus.

After getting off the bus, I lost my familiar face. I didn't know where to find my brother, so I wandered around the place where I got off the bus. After careful consideration, I decided to ask a middle-aged man for help, but he turned me down. My request for help was put out by a pot of cold water, which made me in a very embarrassing position. I had no choice but to walk back and forth in the street. Suddenly I saw a Russian goods store and went in.

The shopkeeper is a woman, about thirty years old. Wearing a black coat. Yellow skin, big eyes look good. I bought two lollipops in this shop, one for my brother and the other for myself. After buying, I want this aunt to borrow my mobile phone. However, due to the experience of being rejected just now, I have no bottom in my heart, but I still got up the courage to say to my aunt, "Can I call my brother if I borrow my phone?" Aunt smiled and said, "OK!" After listening to this, I found that sweet water is like a person dying of thirst. With the help of this aunt, I successfully found my brother.

Time passed, but the gentle smile of that aunt was fixed in my memory, which made me see hope when I was helpless. This smile is like a lamp in the dark, illuminating my direction.

Outside the window, I saw the rain still dripping. I wonder how to cross the street without street lights after school. The students are chattering and want to fly out of the classroom like birds. There are some people gathered outside the classroom, mostly parents, holding umbrellas, waiting outside the classroom, chatting and looking into the classroom.

The teacher said that the class was over, and the students couldn't bear it. They ran out of the classroom with their schoolbags on their backs. I imagined my mother coming to pick me up, holding my schoolbag and holding an umbrella for me, but shook her head. You don't say! My mother always lets me stand on my own feet, and I always dawdle until the last one leaves.

On rainy days, the leaves are spinning in the air and the cold wind is blowing. I couldn't help shivering, tightening my clothes and walking home quickly. After turning two corners in a row, I slowed down and didn't dare to look forward. This street is the darkest place without street lights, and this rainy day makes the environment even weirder. This is what scares me the most. The horror movies I have seen keep popping up in my mind. I can't get rid of them, and fear comes to my mind.

Rain, it's still raining. I slowed down slowly and dared not go any further. But this is the only place to go home, so we must bite the bullet and go. Looking up, I seemed to see a familiar figure, and I accelerated my pace. When I got closer, I found it was my mother. Mother held an umbrella in one hand and my coat in the other, and held it in her arms to keep warm. I quickly stepped forward and said, "mom, why did you come out in such a cold day?" Let's hurry home. " "I'm afraid you are afraid. It's too cold outside. I brought you a coat. Put it on quickly. " Mother took my schoolbag and handed me my coat. My brain is blank, only that picture is fixed in my mind.

In early winter, it always rains suddenly, but in my heart, happiness is like a sunset, all over the mountains.

Time is like a divider, even a neat time will be divided into pieces, but I am glad that this picture can be fixed in my memory.

Holding a small umbrella, accompanied by the gentle drizzle in the south of the Yangtze River, I walked on a field path, crossed a stone bridge with a history of one hundred years, and unconsciously came to this tree. Thick branches, recorded the story of how much time. The line of sight gradually blurred, and I looked up at the drizzle and vaguely saw a figure. Grandma, is that you?

The earth is yellow and dizzy, and the wind blows the wheat fragrance to this place with countless memories. Touching the deep and shallow traces of the old house, it seems to be back to the good old days. Grandma's kind smile, infinite love and tolerance, now, it can only be a memory. However, the little things I get along with my grandmother will be fixed in my memory forever.

My parents had to leave my 2-year-old grandmother to take care of me when I went out to work in the city. From then on, I spent my childhood with my grandmother. In my memory, there is a osmanthus tree in front of my grandmother's house. Every time it blooms, the whole room is filled with osmanthus fragrance. Grandma and I often sit on the stone table under the osmanthus tree and have dinner together. Grandma often reads newspapers quietly with reading glasses, but I want to read them naughty. Grandma has no choice but to read it to me word by word. I am usually "three-point enthusiastic" and then I go to play. Grandma shook her head helplessly. I started in kindergarten. I clearly remember that day, I cried and refused to get on the school bus. Somehow, my grandmother was uncharacteristically stiff and hit me hard. "I refused to go to school, but I didn't cherish such a good opportunity. My grandmother never thought about it before. This is a shame. " I feel very wronged, and the more I cry, the louder I cry. Grandma ignored my crying and put me on the school bus. "Be nice to me." Drop this sentence, grandma left. Looking at the grandmother who is drifting away, the grievances in my heart are even greater. Thinking about ignoring grandma in the future! Turned his head angrily.

Now that I think about it, I should thank my grandmother! After getting used to the environment, grandma will pick me up every day. When I can't do my homework, I pester her to teach me. Grandma doesn't read much, so she can only read the text to me in Mandarin. Even so, at that time, besides the teacher, I admired my grandmother the most. Time is ruthless, but now things have changed, and grandma has passed away. I am the only one guarding this osmanthus tree. Stop and stare, as if to see grandma still reading the newspaper quietly. Grandma's kind smile and severe scolding, that thin figure is fixed in my memory, forever, forever, unchanged!

Purple Mountain is the mother mountain of Nanjing, with fresh air and shady trees, and it is the green lung of Nanjing. I used to climb the Purple Mountain. However, once I climbed the mountain, the scene I saw became a fixed picture in my memory, which I will never forget.

That day, when I went down the mountain, I suddenly found that there seemed to be some disharmony among the harmonious gray stones, green vegetation and gray stone steps. What is this? On the stone steps, a dime a dozen of smoke pierced my heart like a needle; The orange peel in the distance was so dazzling that I almost blinded my eyes; On the side of the road, several tin cans hit my heart hard ... Mother Shan, are you still a green lung?

At this moment, a cleaner came into my sight. He is dark-skinned, thin and plain-dressed, with a heavy oversized black garbage bag in his left hand and a garbage collecting tool in his right. He climbed the stairs and picked up the rubbish he met. He bent down again and again and pulled out the needles stuck in my heart one by one ... Some rubbish left the stone steps, so he bent down, stretched out his right hand, tried to hold the rubbish with the tools in his hand, and then straightened up and put the rubbish in the garbage bag of his left hand ... His thin body was extremely tall in my heart, and his dark skin was golden.

The back of the cleaner picking up garbage has become a picture that I have fixed in my memory.

I immediately asked my mother for a garbage bag and began to pick up garbage.

Later, under the encouragement and spur of that picture, I took part in countless activities to clean the Purple Mountain. I am glad to see that more and more people have joined the activities of cleaning Purple Mountain, more and more tourists have stopped littering, and our mother Mountain Purple Mountain has become cleaner and cleaner. But even though I have picked up countless bags of garbage and made numerous publicity, what I will never forget is the picture fixed in my memory.

There are always some old memories in the compilation of freeze-frame picture composition 15 9. Although it is a cliche, it seems to be printed in our memory and cannot be erased. Make people want to stay. Some things are not what we want to forget. There will always be some beautiful pictures fixed in our memory.

My hometown, I haven't been back to my hometown for a long time. This time back to my hometown, my shabby hometown reminds me of the moment when I grew up here before. Childhood memories and unforgettable memories. This photo will remain in my memory forever.

During the summer vacation, I always live in an old house with my grandmother, because it is still cool in summer there. There are many big trees around. I heard from my grandmother that those big trees have been around for some years, and they were there when my grandparents got married. So when I was a child, I liked to play in the yard behind the house. Carrying a small stool with a fan in his hand. Sitting on the stool, the small fan is shaking. Looking at the big trees in front of us, there are peach trees, willow trees and oranges. I'm eating a peach that I just picked in my mouth. It's sweet. It's really cozy!

Every evening, grandma will come back from the vegetable garden. I still have my favorite vegetable in my hand. I often wait for my grandmother to come back from the fruit and vegetable garden and cook good food for me. At that time, I will be very happy.

In hot summer, grandma always hangs watermelons in the well in front of the house. After two or three hours, grandma will fish them out again. But it will be cold when it comes out again! Grandma cut it open, and I can't wait to get a piece. Ah, it's really crispy and refreshing ~

I miss the old days, what I miss and those people. Although they have been fixed in my mind. But the good times that belonged to me are gone forever!

Freeze-frame picture composition compilation 15 10 Walking on the beach of memory, the wind blew my heart away; Footprints are deep or shallow, leaving only a lonely figure. The evening breeze blows, arousing teenagers' reverie, sitting on the beach and listening to the wind blowing through their hair. ...

"The night breeze blows gently in Penghu Bay, white waves chase the beach ..." A poem "Grandma's Penghu Bay". Hiding a little childhood charm. I remember when I was a child, I snuggled up on my grandmother's arm, looked at the twinkling stars in the night sky on the small bench in the quiet yard, held out a little finger at the stars and asked, "Grandma, why are the stars always twinkling in the night sky?" Grandma held me in one hand and shook the fan tightly in the other. Kindly said: "they are smarter than hard work, who is the smartest?" You see, the stars are so naughty, do you want to have a companion to play with them? " "Yes!" "Girl, you are the most beautiful and dazzling star in grandma's heart!" Listening to this sentence, I am always extremely proud.

"Little bamboo raft traveling in the picture world ..." I remember my childhood, when I was reading poems in babbling. In the alley in summer, the sun jumped on my shoulder through the leaves, casting mottled light and shadow, and the wind blew across my cheeks with a little warmth ... Grandma sat in the alley, holding a picture book in her hand, and taught me to read and write one by one. Time goes by little by little. Whenever I learn a poem, the first thing I think of is reading it to my grandmother. It is a childish voice reading my childhood.

When I was growing up, I didn't go back to my grandmother's house or the yard for a while. I really want to go back to my grandmother's yard and when I had my grandmother. ...

Freeze-frame picture composition compilation 15 1 1 Life is an endless sea, and life is mellow and delicious coffee. Everyone has his own life, and life is made up of countless moments.

I will never forget that moment. ...

When I stepped on the small stage, I knew that I was facing a brand-new challenge, a huge challenge. I also know that I am waiting for the envious eyes of all teachers and students. However, I still hesitated. Should we go forward or backward? All thoughts pass through my mind: what if I can't say it well? What if I get the dirty look from others? A firm belief swept away all thoughts: I must believe in myself, I can do it! I have worked hard for this host, and this moment is the moment when I reap the fruits!

I tried to control my emotions. Try to calm your restless heart. There are people waiting for me, I don't care so much! I walked into the stage with a microphone and suddenly found "water" in my palm and microphone. Oh! That's the sweat in my palm, because I'm so nervous! I turned on the receiver and made an opening remark to the eyes waiting for me below.

As soon as my voice fell, a flood of applause sounded, wetting my dry heart, and I gradually entered the state.

That moment, the moment when the applause sounded, I will never forget it. At that moment, the applause at that time not only included the envy of the schoolmates, the encouragement of the schoolmates, but also included the affirmation of every teacher!

Tagore said: "Life is beautiful like summer flowers and death is beautiful like autumn leaves." Life should be like a melodious and euphemistic movement, a gorgeous rainbow, and eternal moments, such as the melody in the movement and the colors in the rainbow, slowly assemble our life.

Freeze-frame picture composition compilation 15 12 "hoo-hoo-hoo", cold wind mixed with drizzle accompanied by the arrival of the night, quietly arrived.

I walked out of the school gate and looked at the endless night. It suddenly occurred to me that I might go home for dinner today. I thought my mother should stand at the school gate and wait for the parent-teacher conference. I feel a little sad in my heart.

Just as I was about to walk in the direction of homesickness, a familiar and warm call rang in my ear: "Live in Lin Chuan." It's mom. I turned my head and didn't know what to do. I saw my mother coming up to me slowly, handing me a warm bag and saying, "I bought you dinner at the pie shop." Hurry up when you go home, or it will get cold ... "At that moment, my heart was warmed by a warm current called" Touching ",and my mother stood in the dark with a bag in her hand. I also remembered the mistakes I usually made to my mother, talking back to her, ignoring her, and the results of this quiz. The so-called "rebellious period" psychology immediately collapsed and drifted away with the cold wind. My eyes are involuntarily moist and my throat is a little dry. I can only answer my mother with "well, it's fine", for fear that she will hear what's wrong with me. My mother told me again, "If you are afraid of the cold, close the window when you get home and call me when you get home." Then I reluctantly left.

I stood there looking at my mother's back, unable to recover. I touched the bag in my hand, and a warm current immediately came to my mind. I looked up, the silent night became a little more colorful, and the cold wind became warm. That cold night, my mother's love for me was particularly warm, which made me unforgettable.

Freeze-frame picture composition compilation 15 13 love condenses in dribs and drabs, and the dribs and drabs of those days have gathered into a beautiful time. In retrospect, it always makes people cry.

In winter, the final exam is approaching and I am immersed in "learning the sea" every day. At that time, I really realized what it means to "learn the sea without limits, and follow suit."

It's late at night, only the ticking of my alarm clock is very noisy. There are fewer and fewer lights outside, and there are only a few faint flames in the dark earth. My father has been accompanying me to review late these days. At this time, my father looked at his watch bored, as if urging me to write quickly. I kept struggling, but I became more and more sleepy. In the dim light, I saw a mountain of reference books, papers and exercises. I have washed two bags of coffee and washed my face several times, but my head is still groggy. Finally, I couldn't help being bored and fell on my desk.

I don't know how long it took, but I sat up straight again, and a powerful voice came from my ear: "Drink some pear water, come to your senses and wake up." Dad handed me the cup and patted me on the shoulder. Those kind and gentle eyes seem to drive away my sleepiness. I woke up a lot, smiled at my father and worked hard. Dad walked out of the study, maybe went to the living room.

The fragrant pear beside the desk warms my heart with fatherly love and makes me refreshed. I rushed out of the study to tell my father, but I saw a scene that surprised me: my father was eating pears in a bowl-pears for boiling pear water. I grabbed one from my dad and said, "Don't call me if there is something delicious." I took a bite and it didn't taste at all. "How do you eat this?" I'm surprised. "I think it's a pity to waste it, so I ate it. Go and review. " Tears filled my eyes, vaguely seeing my father's haggard face. I handed my father the bowl filled with pear water, and my voice trembled: "Dad, you drink pear water and I eat pears." Say that finish, a drop of crystal tears fell down.

Pear gives its sweetness and selflessness to pear water, but it is not known to others, just like father's love, although rough, it makes people cry.

Father's love is selfless, he will not consciously experience it, but he can always make people feel warm when they find it. Father's love is hidden in drops,

Moisten your heart, it can bring warmth when you are bored.

The day when my father loved me was the best time in my life.

In our memory, there are always a few pictures that are fixed and cannot be forgotten.

-inscription

The night was quiet, "Oh, no!" This is my nth sentence these days plus 1. I frowned at the geometry problem in front of me, shook my head, and threw my pen on the table impatiently again. There was a loud bang, and then I heard a light footstep. I squatted down with a sigh. I heard my grandmother say, "October (my nickname), after I finished my homework, I squatted down?" "I still ..." "It must be unfinished! Do it quickly! "

I stopped talking, and she sat quietly by my bed. I refuse geometry problems in my heart, and geometry is very weak.

When I looked up to face several geometry problems again, grandma walked out of my room. My inner irritability was released almost instantly, and my sleeves got wet as quickly as possible. One drop, two drops, three drops ... I don't want to cry, but I try my best to endure it. I stopped the tears that flowed like a scourge. I crustily skin of head to do it, and these geometry problems finally "won" in my "storm" again.

All my homework has been finished. It's already 10: 30. i want to drink a little water. I found that the water had fallen and the temperature was just right. Not cold or hot! There is a small bowl next to it, which contains a peeled apple and some bright red winter dates.

I walked to the front of the TV and felt its heat. The weather is very warm. Grandma was watching TV just now. I came back to eat apples, sweet, as sweet as honey. I just found out that family love is not only material, but also spiritual.

This picture is fixed in my memory.

Freeze-frame picture composition compilation 15 15 The breeze is just right, although it is too much, it is also disturbing.

-inscription

Hot tears swirled in my eyes, and I was very happy at that moment.

Summer nights are always so restless; Cicada outside the window, humming a ditty, looks so "sweet" in this silent night. In this silent night, I gradually fell asleep and had that dream again. ...

"Grandma, it's too hot," I said. "Baby, is it hot?" "hmm." After that, I closed my eyes, hoping that this method would make me "better". There seems to be a loud noise in the ear. After a while, I asked "Grandma, Grandma". Seeing that no one was paying attention to me, I shouted "grandma, grandma" and heard that you should be there. I got out of bed and walked there. The road in the dark is not smooth.

In the dark night, the black shadow, twisting again and again, "only heard its voice, but not its wind." You said, "It seems to be broken. It may be useless for a long time. " After that, you patted me on the head and said, "Grandma, go back to sleep first. I am trying to find a way. "

On a quiet night, there is a gentle breeze, which is different from the usual mechanical and natural wind. There are big and small, careful observation and careful consideration, which are also mixed with subtle tenderness.

The wind blew away, a faint childhood; That fan, rolling down, thick years; Na Yue, brightly lit, warm and cold every night.

Although the old man has turned over page after page of notes, the picture is still in my heart. I picked it up, this time it was particularly warm.

Many years later, I relived old memories, fanned gently, and wore white clothes. At that moment, you were particularly beautiful. This scene, in the dream, has been repeated many times. Maybe "he" wants to tell me to be grateful, maybe he should learn to give and learn to "grow".

The wind blows, the leaves fall and the moon is bright. That wonderful cicada song and that indelible picture are embedded in my heart.