A composition about the teacher taking us on an autumn outing in Grade Five: Visiting Daqingshan and Li Bais Tomb in Dangtu.

Lift up the skirts of rape blossoms, and spring blossoms in the endless yellow sea of flowers at the foot of this mountain. Smelling the flowers, shaking off the pale memory of the long winter, I feel full of vigorous and uplifting feelings in my heart, stretching my waist and breathing fresh air. Your eyes are like a photographer's stunt lens, capturing is happy, moving and releasing. ......

The hedge is sparse and deep, and the flowers on the tree head are not shaded. The children ran after Huang Die, flew into the cauliflower, but disappeared.

I can't see bees and butterflies, but I see a woman with a basket on her back, a girl with short hair on her back and pink clothes, on the path of rape blossoms. I wonder: is it the careful planning of the photographer? Otherwise, how could such a delicate silhouette fall into this sea of flowers just right? Houses not far from the kitchen smoke, like a decoration that can be seen at a glance in the distance, let us feel the quiet, vivid and lively atmosphere of life.

I looked at this large rape flower for a long time, as if I had seen the long-lost sunshine, and my inner joy rippled on my face. I love fantasy, as if I were in the artistic conception of high clouds and light flowers. I closed my eyes and imagined a small house surrounded by mountains, green willows and shady trees. A large golden rape flower is like a yellow satin fluttering in the wind, emitting an elegant and fragrant pastoral soil atmosphere. I wore a pair of soft-soled cloth shoes and rolled up my trousers. ......

On a sunny afternoon, I lay in a rocking chair in front of my house, drinking light tea. Let the soothing music gently cross the distant mountains, let the warm wind lead the way across Qian Shan, and tell you the joy of spring in my heart, my care and thoughts in the distance!

My spring, in the fragrance of rape flowers, on the dirt-covered path, in my mother's basket, in the girl's pink hope. ......

My spring, in my vision, beyond my imagination, in the connotation of life, in the seasonal cycle of flowers blooming and falling.