Write a composition on the topic of heavy rain

1. A 600-word composition on rainy days with the topic of "rainy days" is really good in Jiangnan.

Alleys flow quietly between small towns, interpreting people or things in small towns with elegant posture. The low house is covered with dark tiles.

Some grass floated from nowhere in the gap, a small one, humble but quiet, waiting for the rain. When it rains, water falls from the gap, forming a string of wind chimes.

I will deliberately walk under the eaves and enjoy the feeling of raindrops falling on my head. A moment, a moment, seems to be a trembling spring.

Then, the ditch in front of the door rang. Thin, soft, shy ... There will be shallow water in two palm-wide ditches, and all kinds of grotesque lines and lines will change, interweaving and reflecting the low eaves.

Occasionally, I will see the leaves washed by grandma in the morning, floating on them, stopping and stopping, and finally flowing away. And the little boy's marbles next door, gorgeous and pure.

After a while, you will hear the sound of "snapping". Two-year-old children stepped barefoot in the ditch, one hand clumsily grabbed the corner of trousers, and the other hand paddled in the water, and a kind of joy overflowed into their hearts. At this time, the mother's reprimand sounded, and the alley became lively and the rain was jubilant.

Rain-soaked bluestone slabs have been spread to the edge of uncle's yard. The old banyan tree stood there.

The leaves in the rain are green, dense, static and waiting. Consistently provided shade for the people in the lane, and the roots were embedded in the bluestones, paving a road leading to the street, which was very wet and poetic.

Children in slippers stepped on a string of smiling faces under the tree and jumped up and down to avoid cats and dogs. My brother who is good at painting opens the window and depicts the healthy posture of the old tree under the eaves.

The drizzle is as elegant as lilacs, and he tells his alley under the brush. The rain moistened the thick trunk of the old tree, sipped the dust in people's hearts and soaked the things in the alley.

Alleys flow, between small towns, in misty rain, in people's hearts. Very good! Tell it with the same attitude-on this rainy day.

Please use the phrase "rainy day, rain, accompanied by rain at night from the beginning, is falling in waves, covering the night with a mysterious and beautiful veil."

I closed my eyes and listened to the rain quietly, but I felt its beauty strongly. It is sometimes like a group of young children, subdivided and dense; Sometimes like a flock of birds singing, elk jumping; Sometimes, like drums, waves, beautiful forests and the rushing sea; Sometimes ... a muffled thunder flies through this rhythmic symphony, and it travels far and far with a deep and powerful voice ... After the thunder, continue to listen to this symphony.

It seems to have changed its mood again, turning into the rustling of rain on the leaves; Ding Dong fell into the river, and when he slipped and landed on the roof, it broke ... "Bang", "Hua" and other insensitive sounds formed an unknown March. After a while, the rain turned into a faint tick. Listening to this rhythmic and irregular ticking, a kind of sadness welled up in my heart. Rain moistened my heart and my eyes, and an unknown feeling hung over me.

I obviously felt that I was shocked by it. I suddenly associate rain with a person's life course.

When he was a child, he was so weak and full of fantasies. Then he grew up and did something vigorous. Later, when he was old, his life and soul quietly left his body with a beep on his heart rhythm machine. He ended his short life peacefully.

When I was a child, I lived under a tile-roofed house. Whenever it rained, I could hear the intermittent and mournful sound of rain. When I grow up, I live in a reinforced concrete forest, and I can't hear the sound of rain. It seems that life lacks a lot of aura, something that can make people feel soft and weak, and my heart is slowly desertification.

So I miss the rain in the tile house. Rain is weak and the lightest thing in the world. It can't knock down heavy reinforced concrete buildings.

And the tile house, with raindrops on it, jingled and immediately made a pleasant sound. People who live in huts are also blessed to be close to nature in the rain.

When it rains suddenly, the sound is generous and violent, like a hundred horses singing together and Malik rushing. As the rain slows down, the sound becomes weaker and seeps into your heart gently, like the breeze in your ear in warm spring. These tiles seem to be specially laid for rain. They play dutifully, and the hearts of those who listen to the rain will overflow with endless affection.

People like to sit quietly and listen to the rain when their hearts are full of nostalgia and regret. The old people have the ambition of "lying in the middle of the night listening to the wind and rain and dreaming of the iron horse glacier"; Dying beauty has the bitterness of "raindrops brighten yellow leaves and lights illuminate my bald head"; Acacia lovers have the vision of "the phoenix tree is raining, and it will drop at dusk"; Affectionate poets have the daydream that "the small building listens to the spring rain all night, and the deep alley sells apricot flowers."

Rain has become an emissary for people to decorate their feelings and place their wishes. In my spare time, I was lucky enough to go back to the place where I used to listen to the rain.

It happened to be raining lightly that day, and I heard the familiar and unfamiliar sound of rain. In the mist, there is a strange mood in the rain, and we haven't communicated for a long time.

It keeps me away and shows me that it is strange to me, but I can feel the breath of its existence from the deepest part of my consciousness. There is a sense of carefree waking from a dream and a sense of vicissitudes after confusion.

Oh, what I met in the rain was the self separated from time and space, and it was telling me everything before. I hesitated. I asked myself: Who am I? Still the old me? There is a saying: "Young people listen to singing on the rainy floor, and the red candle is faint."

In the prime of life, the boat is listening to the rain, the river is wide and the clouds are low, and the broken geese are called the west wind. "Different life situations make people feel different when listening to the rain.

However, listening to the rain is all about listening to the dialogue of the soul, listening to the flow of true feelings and listening to the flow of years. In addition to the echo of the years, the sound of rain also brings regrets of the past and melancholy that I want to talk about again.

It seems that only in the light rain of this tile house can the soul breathe and life continue. The sound of rain is still ringing, just like my real heartbeat ... When it comes to rain, most people don't like rainy days, even a little annoying.

But I don't think so, because it rained heavily in the summer vacation, which made me feel very happy! "Wow-wow" I was awakened by the deafening rain in my sleep. I stretched myself, went to the window and looked out.

"wow! How beautiful! " Beads of rain as big as beans rushed back to the embrace of Mother Earth. Big drops of rain beads fell heavily outside the glass window. With the "crackling" rain, water marks flowed down the window glass.

The city has long been white, and the whole of Nanjing is shrouded in smoke, rain and fog. After washing, I put on my sandals and raincoat and went downstairs excitedly.

When I came to the roadside, as the light rain continued, the number of cars on the road gradually decreased, and the complicated atmosphere became quiet and soothing. Only the rustle of rain spread the quiet atmosphere. Rain has blocked people's sight and restricted the activities they wanted to go outdoors, and their mood has gradually become carefree and cheerful.

It rained heavily all night, and the water on the ground has soaked my knees. My feet are cold and very comfortable. I opened my mouth and looked up to eat the water falling from the sky, which felt sweet and unique. When the raindrops fell to the ground, the ground immediately opened a small crystal splash, like a transparent crystal diamond.

When the splash falls to the ground, first open a small bubble, then open a small splash. In an instant, the spray disappeared.

Rainwater gathers together, and they join hands in streams and rivers ... I think it is naive to rain. I quickly ran upstairs to find some paper, folded some boats, found some more paper, wrote down my wishes, put them on the boat, ran downstairs, and put them on the water, so that they could ripple with the current.

Looking at these boats, carrying my wish to sail far away, the rain accompanied the night from the beginning, and it rained intermittently, covering the night with a mysterious and beautiful veil. I closed my eyes and listened to the rain quietly, but I felt its beauty strongly.

It is sometimes like a group of young children, subdivided and dense; Sometimes like a flock of birds singing, elk jumping; Sometimes, like drums, waves, beautiful forests and the rushing sea; Sometimes ... a muffled thunder flies through this rhythmic symphony, and it travels far and far with a deep and powerful voice ... After the thunder, continue to listen to this.

3. rainy day composition a rainy day

Always expecting rain, not why. I just like the refreshing feeling. Rain drops gently on my body, along slightly wet clothes, and flows into my body and heart. Clear and cool. But I don't know why, at this time-this poetic time-there is always a very sad feeling. Maybe that kind of sadness is only buried in my heart. There is only a thin layer of paper on it. Rain poured down the paper, and sadness poured out like magma and flowed all over the body. Burning every corner. At this time, the body can't help but tremble. Not because of the cold, but because of my heart, I was burned, too painful, too painful. But you have to hold back. There is no darkness in this so-called bright world. Including the burning heart, of course.

When the night quieted down, the wind stopped breathing, and the only constant was the rain, which kept falling. Listen to the rain outside the window. It's a very light voice, but the heart is hurt by "lava". This kind of pain surges all over the body until the soul. I gently stroked the wound in my heart and gently bandaged it. I'm afraid the wound will split again if I accidentally. I caressed my broken heart in the dark. Who has pity?

When the sun hangs in the sky again, a new day, new vitality. My heart still hurts a little, but it's much lighter, probably because of the sun. It's so comfortable to shine on your body warmly. Bright and warm, no fatigue, no complaints. That tired heart is sleeping slowly, quiet and natural!

Perhaps my heart woke up again, it was already a rainy day, a rainy day of my own, a quiet rainy day, a rainy day without hypocrisy!

When I went out in the morning, it began to rain, countless transparent tassels hung in the air, and gradually layers of gray fog rose in the air. The buildings in the distance and nearby are blurred. Hold up a blue rain umbrella and walk in the breeze, dreaming that the blue rain umbrella will be a concentrated blue sky?

The drizzle falls silently on leaves, umbrellas and trousers ... pieces of withered leaves are soaked in a small pool of stagnant water, reminiscent of bookmarks made of crystal pieces.

It's raining all day.

enough

On rainy days, I am always in a bad mood, which stems from the feeling of cold and humidity. The sad and miserable situations described in many books come from such an environment, which makes me feel nostalgic and sentimental. Some of them have been read in novels, and some have been experienced personally in life. All these sad reverie have slowly drifted into the rain, and become heavier because of the humidity.

I just kept a diary under the lamp, and the raindrops falling along the eaves hit the ground at will: tick, tick, tick ... I can't sit still any longer. Untitled rain makes me extremely afraid. It rhymes like a question about the root of my life, and I can't answer it. I tried my best to avoid and forbear, and didn't want to find the so-called answer, but it didn't know where it came from.

Tick tock ... tick tock ... tick tock. ...

Instantaneous panic has increased dramatically, and there is no way to know why. In a word, my heart has been blurred. Is it raining in Mao Mao? And a thick fog rose?

Those original clear ideas have also been covered up, and they can't be seen clearly and captured. ...

I ... don't like rainy days.

4. The narrative with the title of "rainy day" is in Jiangnan. Alleys flow quietly between small towns, interpreting people or things in small towns with elegant posture.

The low house is covered with dark tiles. Some grass floated from nowhere in the gap, a small one, humble but quiet, waiting for the rain. When it rains, water falls from the gap, forming a string of wind chimes. I will deliberately walk under the eaves and enjoy the feeling of raindrops falling on my head. A moment, a moment, seems to be a trembling spring.

Then, the ditch in front of the door rang. Thin, soft, shy ... There will be shallow water in two palm-wide ditches, and all kinds of grotesque lines and lines will change, interweaving and reflecting the low eaves. Occasionally, I will see the leaves washed by grandma in the morning, floating on them, stopping and stopping, and finally flowing away. And the little boy's marbles next door, gorgeous and pure. After a while, you will hear the sound of "snapping". Two-year-old children stepped barefoot in the ditch, one hand clumsily grabbed the corner of trousers, and the other hand paddled in the water, and a kind of joy overflowed into their hearts. At this time, the mother's reprimand sounded, and the alley became lively and the rain was jubilant.

Rain-soaked bluestone slabs have been spread to the edge of uncle's yard. The old banyan tree stood there. The leaves in the rain are green, dense, static and waiting. Consistently provided shade for the people in the lane, and the roots were embedded in the bluestones, paving a road leading to the street, which was very wet and poetic. Children in slippers stepped on a string of smiling faces under the tree and jumped up and down to avoid cats and dogs. My brother who is good at painting opens the window and depicts the healthy posture of the old tree under the eaves. The drizzle is as elegant as lilacs, and he tells his alley under the brush.

The rain moistened the thick trunk of the old tree, sipped the dust in people's hearts and soaked the things in the alley.

Alleys flow, between small towns, in misty rain, in people's hearts. Very good! Tell it with the same attitude-on this rainy day.

5. It is very good to write a 600-word composition on rainy days.

Jiangnan is misty and rainy. Alleys flow quietly between small towns, interpreting people or things in small towns with elegant posture. The low house is covered with dark tiles. Some grass floated from nowhere in the gap, a small one, humble but quiet, waiting for the rain. When it rains, water falls from the gap, forming a string of wind chimes. I will deliberately walk under the eaves and enjoy the feeling of raindrops falling on my head. A moment, a moment, seems to be a trembling spring. Then, the ditch in front of the door rang. Thin, soft, shy ... There will be shallow water in two palm-wide ditches, and all kinds of grotesque lines and lines will change, interweaving and reflecting the low eaves. Occasionally, I will see the leaves washed by grandma in the morning, floating on them, stopping and stopping, and finally flowing away. And the little boy's marbles next door, gorgeous and pure. After a while, you will hear the sound of "snapping". Two-year-old children stepped barefoot in the ditch, one hand clumsily grabbed the corner of trousers, and the other hand paddled in the water, and a kind of joy overflowed into their hearts. At this time, the mother's reprimand sounded, and the alley became lively and the rain was jubilant. Rain-soaked bluestone slabs have been spread to the edge of uncle's yard. The old banyan tree stood there. The leaves in the rain are green, dense, static and waiting. Consistently provided shade for the people in the lane, and the roots were embedded in the bluestones, paving a road leading to the street, which was very wet and poetic. Children in slippers stepped on a string of smiling faces under the tree and jumped up and down to avoid cats and dogs. My brother who is good at painting opens the window and depicts the healthy posture of the old tree under the eaves. The drizzle is as elegant as lilacs, and he tells his alley under the brush. The rain moistened the thick trunk of the old tree, sipped the dust in people's hearts and soaked the things in the alley. Alleys flow, between small towns, in misty rain, in people's hearts. Very good! Tell it with the same attitude-on this rainy day.

6. Write 400 words on the topic "It's raining heavily today" This evening, I turned off the light and went to bed early, but because of the strong wind outside the window, I couldn't sleep for a long time, just waiting and watching by the window. The wind roared, knocked down the door and slammed it on the wall. The wind blew on the wire, making a "meow-"scream. Lightning pierced the dark night curtain. I was scared. There was a flash of lightning, a clear thunderbolt, and then it began to rain cats and dogs, just as the gods received a signal to pour the water of Tianhe into the world. The heavy rain pounded on the roof and the glass, making a frightening movement. Then there was another flash of lightning, which made me unable to open my eyes. "Boom-"is another deafening thunder, which scared me to run. Hide in bed. Fengshen's sharp arrow roared and cheered at the helpless earth. The trees on the roadside tried their best to swing their clumsy limbs and avoid the rain arrows, but in a blink of an eye they were all black and blue. The small pond in front of the house was soon filled with a large area of yellow water, and the green duckweed on the river curled up in a corner of the pond like a frightened child, and the river turned violently with the wind. The waves on the river are constantly undulating. Although it is as dark as spilled black ink, the rolling clouds are faintly visible. Pieces of clouds are like monsters' faces, and blue-purple lightning is the monster's terrible and ferocious smiling face. There is no one on the path; In the sky, several stragglers are desperately hiding from the rain under people's eaves; The flowers on the roadside were also torn by the strong wind; Weeds can't stand the test of the storm and have already bent down; The clothes hanging in the corridor are also "dancing" with the wind ... I stood at the window, looking at the scene in front of me and thinking about the golden sun. The storm will pass, and the dark clouds will still be driven away by the sun. Tomorrow, people will still wait for the bright sunshine.

7. Write a composition about 400 words about A Midsummer Storm. Everyone says that Xia is a child. If I hadn't witnessed it, I would never have believed it. "Boom", a thunder broke the silence of summer. "Why did it rain in Wan Li just now?" I asked in confusion. Curious, I went to the balcony. Standing on the balcony, I was immediately fascinated by the surrounding scenery: several hills in the distance seemed to be covered with a "white gauze skirt" The crowded house was completely refreshed in the rain. A bee danced in the rain, and when she was tired, she stopped under the eaves to enjoy the beautiful scenery belonging to the rainy world. "plop!" Countless raindrops, like pearls with broken lines, fall straight and beans are as big as raindrops. Accompanied by Song of Summer, Gu Yu Niang's party became more and more "lively". Suddenly dark clouds filled every corner. "dragon" First there was a loud noise, then it rained cats and dogs. "Sand-sand-"The sound of rain clearly reached my ears. I looked down and put my head out quietly. Maybe they were awakened by the sudden heavy rain. "Hoo-"A cold wind blew and made me tremble. Time is ticking, ticking, but this "uninvited guest" rings. It seems that it will fall if you push it. Looking at this "distinguished" summer son from a distance, I can do nothing but "kneel for mercy". Xiazi seems to understand what I mean, and it's no longer busy. The wind stopped, the rain stopped, and the children stopped making trouble this summer. After this rainstorm, I finally know that Xia is also a child, and her face will turn pale when she says it. The storm has been here for several days, and the typhoon swept across the land in the south of the Yangtze River. No, there was another storm in July 13, which made me restless for a long time. That night, I turned off the light early and went to bed, but because of the strong wind outside the window, I couldn't sleep for a long time, just waiting by the window and watching. The wind roared. Suddenly opened the door and slammed it on the wall. The wind blew on the wire, making a "meow-"scream. A series of lightning pierced the dark night curtain, and the dull thunder roared like a cannon, which frightened me. There was a flash of lightning, a clear thunderbolt, and then it began to rain cats and dogs, just as the gods received a signal to pour the water of Tianhe into the world. The heavy rain pounded on the roof and hit the glass, making a noise. Lightning is so bright that I can't even open my eyes. "Boom-"was another deafening thunder, and I quickly covered my ears and hid in bed. Fengshen's sharp arrow roared and cheered at the helpless earth. The trees on the roadside struggled to swing their clumsy limbs and avoid the rain arrows, but in an instant they were all black and blue. The small pond in front of the house was soon filled with water. The green duckweed on the river is like a frightened child, crouching in the corner of the pond. The river turns violently with the wind direction, and the waves on the river are constantly undulating. Although it is as dark as spilled black ink, the rolling clouds are faintly visible. Clouds are like monsters' faces, and blue-purple lightning is the monster's terrible and ferocious smiling face. There is no one on the path; In the sky, several stragglers are desperately hiding from the rain under people's eaves; The flowers on the roadside were also torn by the strong wind; Weeds can't stand the test of the storm and have already bent down; The clothes hanging in the corridor are also "dancing" with the wind ... I stood at the window, looking at the scene in front of me and thinking about the golden sun. The storm will pass, and the dark clouds will still be driven away by the sun. Tomorrow, people will still wait for the bright sunshine.