Story composition in photos with photos

Ⅰ Essay "Stories in Photos" 400 words

Writing ideas: You can write where the photo was taken, who it was taken with, and what circumstances it was under. What is the meaning of taking the photo, and how do you feel when you see this photo now.

Text:

Time flies, we go from strangers to familiarity, from meeting to parting. Every time I see that photo, his bright smile always appears in my mind; every time I think of the time with him, my heart can't help but be filled with joy; every time I think of the reluctant scene when parting with him, my heart is full of love. He misses you infinitely. ah! friend! It's been a long time since I've been apart from you. How are you now?

I remember that when we first entered elementary school, we were at the same table, but because we met for the first time, we didn’t know each other. It was his small gesture that deeply moved me. From then on, we became inseparable good friends.

What a coincidence. My mother and his mother were old classmates many years ago. After graduation, we both went out to work hard and lost contact. But by coincidence, he and I entered the same elementary school, and their two old classmates met again.

As time went by, our relationship became more and more harmonious, and the number of photos of the shooting locations naturally increased, and even a thick photo album could not fit in them. In the summer after I graduated from elementary school, we made an appointment to climb Mount Huangshan together.

At the beginning, we were all energetic and ran upwards as fast as an arrow off the string. But when I ran halfway up the mountain, I was so tired that I sat down on a moss-covered stone. As he ran towards me, he said loudly: "Persistence is the key to victory." After saying that, he continued to run upward. Not to be outdone, I stood up again and quickly caught up with him.

In this way, we encouraged and supported each other all the way, and finally reached the top of the mountain. I opened my arms and let the cool breeze hit my face, my heart filled with joy and excitement. Suddenly, his crisp voice came again: "Perseverance is the best gift I can give you before I leave." My eyes couldn't help but blurred, but at the same time, a bright smile appeared on the corner of my mouth.

We all held each other tightly and shed loving tears. This scene was photographed by two mothers hiding aside. After the photo was developed, I used the wooden photo frame he made and placed it on the most conspicuous table so that I would always remember him and the photo he gave to me. The most precious gift.

That was the last time I saw him. But I firmly believe that I will treasure this photo for the rest of my life and protect our friendship.

Time flies, and I have been separated from him for more than half a year, but his image will always be deep in my mind and can never be erased.

Ah! friend! I wonder how you are now?

Ⅱ A 300-word essay on the story in the photo

Key points: First describe what this photo reminds me of, then describe in detail the causes and consequences of this photo, and finally what this story means to me What impact will it have.

Text:

"Oh my god, I can't walk!" Every time I see this photo, I think of this sentence.

It was a summer vacation. When my friends and I visited the Henan Opera Museum, we experienced the jokes made by Hua Dan while walking.

Visiting the opera costume area, the teacher brought us girls to the stage and taught us how to walk as a female actor. The teacher said that Huadan is the most beautiful character in the opera, but women in ancient times had to abide by many rules, so when walking, Huadan should show the gracefulness, dignity and grace of ancient women.

After saying that, the teacher demonstrated for us: when Huadan stands, her feet make a T-step and her hands make orchid fingers; when walking, she walks with lotus steps, and her face must have a matching expression to show her intelligence and liveliness. ...After listening to this, we were all stunned. It turned out that it was so difficult for women in ancient times to walk!

It was our turn to perform. We lined up in a line, and as soon as we took two steps, the people in the audience were already laughing. I looked to both sides and saw everyone walking in a mess. I was no better. When I wanted to move, I forgot about the expression. When I noticed the expression, I couldn't keep up with the movement. I was in a hurry. The event ended with laughter. Although our girls' performance failed, I think this is the most meaningful thing.

It turns out that I think opera is a program for the elderly. This time, it changed my view on opera. Opera is our country’s traditional culture and the art of life. Every part of the opera contains the love of life and the love of beauty.

Ⅲ Story composition in photos

On my desk, there is a photo of our family of three. In the photo, we are wearing diving suits, standing proudly in the clear blue water, smiling brightly! As soon as I saw this photo, my heart was filled with joy and memories of good times.

When I was nine years old, my father’s work organization organized a trip to Hainan Island. Fortunately, I boarded the long-awaited plane to Hainan Island. Staying in the hotel, I stayed up all night excitedly, thinking about my travel plans for tomorrow.

The next day, I got up early. When the tour guide announced that today we were going to go diving on the seabed, I was even more excited and ran around like a bunny.

When we arrived at the diving site, the instructor told us the essentials of diving and then took us into the sea. My heart was as anxious as fifteen buckets. When the coach asked me: "Kid, are you scared?" I said stubbornly: "Who said I'm scared?" As I said that, I deliberately puffed up my chest, quickly put on my diving suit, and jumped towards the shooting star with striding steps. to the sea. Standing in the sea, the cool water gently caressed my legs, and a breeze with the smell of sea water blew. I opened my arms and enjoyed the embrace of the sea. At this moment, the coach said to me: "Are you ready?" "OK!" I made a gesture coolly and plunged into the sea. After a while, many colorful small fish appeared in front of my eyes. They swam around me, as if they were looking at me, a strange visitor. I couldn't help but stretched out my hands to say hello to them, but they didn't give me any face at all, and just shook their heads and left one by one. Suddenly, my eyes lit up, what beautiful soft corals, these corals of different colors dazzled me, and I was secretly amazed...

When we surfaced, the photographer left us with This precious photo.

When the photo was developed, I put it in a photo frame, where I still have it today.

Ⅳ A 300-word essay on the story in the photo "My Family Portrait"

Key points: First describe the background of the photo, then describe the story behind the photo, and finally leave a lasting impression through this photo good memories.

Text:

Whenever I see the old photo in the frame on my desk, it reminds me of the story my mother often told me about our trip to the Hangzhou Bay Cross-Sea Bridge. . This is a photo full of happiness. The photo shows that the photo was taken on June 7, 2008. Mom said this was the first family photo of our family and it was a very memorable photo.

That year, I was only three years old, and many of my memories are hazy and fuzzy. In the photo, my father is holding me tightly with his warm arms, and my mother is standing next to me with a bright smile. And I was leaning on my father's shoulder, looking so cute and cute, looking so childish and innocent. Behind us is Ningbo Tianyi Square. After the heavy rain, the square is spotless and crystal clear.

I remember that my father drove us there that day. It was less than a month after the Hangzhou Bay Cross-sea Bridge was opened. I sat in the car and looked out the window. It was bright and dark outside. Suddenly, it started pouring rain. I was a little nervous and held my mother's arm tightly.

My mother said to me gently: "It's okay, it's thunderstorm season now, the rain will stop after a while." After listening to my mother's words, I relaxed a lot, and after a while, my father drove the car Slowly climbed onto the cross-sea bridge. He drove very slowly because there were regulations on the cross-sea bridge and he could not drive fast. From a distance, the cross-sea bridge looks like an 'S'-shaped curve.

Dad said: "The Hangzhou Bay Cross-sea Bridge is a cross-sea bridge across the Hangzhou Bay in China. It is the second longest cross-sea bridge built in the world, with a total length of 36 kilometers." When I heard this, my curiosity came over and I continued to look outside. "Mom, is this the sea?" I asked my mother. My mother answered me: "Yes, this is the rough sea."

"The blue sea is so beautiful, you can't see the edge at all!" I admired in my heart. After driving for half an hour, we passed the entire Hangzhou Bay Cross-sea Bridge. After another period of time, we finally arrived at Ningbo Tianyi Square. At this time, the rain became lighter. Taking this opportunity, we asked someone to press the shutter, and we got this beautiful photo.

Although no photos were taken at the cross-sea bridge at that time, when I see this photo, I can think of the famous Hangzhou Bay Bridge and the happy and beautiful time that my parents and I spent together. time.

Ⅳ Composition of Stories in Photos

Stories in Photos

There are many photos in the photo album in my bedroom. I take them out and look through them in my spare time. Most of them record every bit of my growth: joy, happiness, sadness, loss, including the scene when I was frightened and cried when I rode a roller coaster for the first time; when I picked up shells on the beach with my mother. The bright smile; and the joy on my face when I won the English competition for the first time... They record the pace of my growth and carry the beautiful memories of my childhood.

His eyes were fixed on a photo with his grandma. In the photo, my grandma is holding me and sitting on a smooth stone on the river beach in the park. She soaks her feet in the cool river water and lets them scratch her soles. It feels so comfortable. And I looked down at the water curiously, as if I wanted to know what was hidden in the water. There is a red sweater that is almost completed next to us. The beautiful and bright striped pattern reflects the bright smile on grandma's face. Under the reflection of the afternoon sun, everything is so harmonious and wonderful.

"Yes, we really can't control your child. I suggest you take him back for a few days..." Not long after the principal made the call, grandma came.

After that, I never went to the kindergarten again. I was taken by my grandma every day. When I was hungry, I went to her to buy food. When I was sleepy, I snuggled into her warm arms and took a nap, or lay on my back. Grandma was watching her knitting the colorful sweater. I often hear my grandma and my parents who are out of town arguing on the phone about my schooling, but my grandma always says, "My kid, he's still young, let's talk about it in a few years..." After hanging up the phone, grandma will take the I went to the park to play, and it was still the same river beach, the same rocks, the old place where my grandma and I were in my childhood memories.

Sixth grade: Chen Junjie

Looking through one photo after another, unknowingly, the baby in the photo, sleeping soundly in swaddling clothes, has become a lively baby next to his relatives. The child has reached the age of kindergarten in a blink of an eye.

During the period when I was in kindergarten, I was naughty and mischievous and hated the days when I was restrained by the school teacher. That day, while my parents were on a business trip, I cried and made noise in the kindergarten. While my friends were playing, I kept causing havoc. When the teacher was giving lectures, I made harsh noises from time to time. The teachers in the school didn't know what to do. , until...

I thought she would criticize me severely, but who knew, she didn't say a word.

Ⅵ How to write a 500-word essay on stories in photos

When I opened the old photo album at home, I saw yellowed photos one after another.

That was a photo of my mother and uncle when they were young. The mother in the photo is about seven or eight years old. She is wearing a small square-necked cloth gown and a pair of trousers. She is hugging the tree trunk and smiling brightly. It seems that she is preparing to climb up the tree. As for my uncle, he was carrying a large bamboo pole more than three meters long, not knowing what he was going to do. After asking my mother, I found out that they were going to eat the cicada shells. In those days, cicada husk was an excellent Chinese medicinal material. Every summer vacation, children from all families would get up early, carrying small baskets and long bamboo poles to look for cicada shells in the groves in the village. The older brothers and sisters climbed up the tree to look for cicadas and cicada shells, while the younger brothers and sisters helped pass bamboo poles and pick up cicadas and cicada shells. They cooperated very well. Children often set out early in the morning with dry food and don't want to go home until dark. At this time, their small baskets were filled with cicada shells, and the small baskets with lids were filled with cicadas that had not yet fallen out of their shells.

After returning home, they washed and dried the cicada shells and sent them to the drugstore in the town every few days, so that the tuition for the year was covered. During the good harvest, the extra money can also be used to buy some school supplies! The cicadas in the small basket that have not completely shelled out are another rare delicacy for people. Every night, when the cicadas are out of their shells, the children can't wait to clean the tender cicadas, shouting for the adults to put them in the pot, fry them until crispy, then sprinkle some salt on them and eat them deliciously. Get up. There are even children who are as greedy as cats. On the way to the drug store to sell cicada shells, they secretly hide a few cicada shells. When they get home, when the adults are not paying attention while cooking, they put them in the oil pan, fry them, and then put them in their mouths. Li ate it with relish. Do you know what a delicious food this was for the children at that time!

This yellowed black and white photo seems to have brought me into my mother’s childhood, allowing my mother and I to enjoy that beautiful and happy time together!

Ⅶ 600-word essay on stories in photos

Stories in photos

Opening the old photo album at home, yellowed photos came into view. My eyes.

That was a photo of my mother and uncle when they were young. The mother in the photo is about seven or eight years old. She is wearing a small square-necked cloth gown and a pair of trousers. She is hugging the tree trunk and smiling brightly. It seems that she is preparing to climb up the tree. As for my uncle, he was carrying a large bamboo pole more than three meters long, not knowing what he was going to do. After asking my mother, I found out that they were going to eat the cicada shells. In those days, cicada husk was an excellent Chinese medicinal material. Every summer vacation, children from all families would get up early, carrying small baskets and long bamboo poles to look for cicada shells in the groves in the village. The older brothers and sisters climbed up the tree to look for cicadas and cicada shells, while the younger brothers and sisters helped pass bamboo poles and pick up cicadas and cicada shells. They cooperated very well. Children often set out early in the morning with dry food and don't want to go home until dark. At this time, their small baskets were filled with cicada shells, and the small baskets with lids were filled with cicadas that had not yet fallen out of their shells.

After returning home, they washed and dried the cicada shells and sent them to the drugstore in the town every few days, so that the tuition for the year was covered. During the good harvest, the extra money can also be used to buy some school supplies! The cicadas in the small basket that have not completely shelled out are another rare delicacy for people. Every night, when the cicadas are out of their shells, the children can't wait to clean the tender cicadas, shouting for the adults to put them in the pot, fry them until crispy, then sprinkle some salt on them and eat them deliciously. Get up. There are even children who are as greedy as cats. On the way to the drug store to sell cicada shells, they secretly hide a few cicada shells. When they get home, when the adults are not paying attention while cooking, they put them in the oil pan, fry them, and then put them in their mouths. Li ate it with relish.

Do you know what a delicious food this was for the children at that time!

This yellowed black and white photo seems to have brought me into my mother’s childhood, allowing my mother and I to enjoy that beautiful and happy time together!

Ⅷ A 500-word essay on stories in photos

Stories in photos

A photo records a story; a photo tells an experience ; A photo evokes a memory; a photo is full of emotions. It is such a small but profound photo, an ordinary yet unusual photo, so worthy of my collection.

My favorite photo was taken on the first day of the first lunar month in 2001 in the living room on the third floor of my new home. It is clearly visible in the photo that I am sitting on the sofa with my cousin, my cousin, my grandparents and my five grandsons. In my hand, I was holding a big apple picked from the plate on the table in front of me. Every time I pull this photo out of my album, the story behind it is still fresh in my mind.

It was the first day of the first lunar month when I was two years old. My grandparents, cousins, uncles and aunts came to my house as guests. During the chat, my father asked me to take a photo with my grandparents, cousins, grandparents, and grandchildren. After knowing where I was sitting, I quickly found a reason to ask my father to go to the fourth floor with me first.

When I got to the fourth floor, my father asked me what I wanted to do. I spoke out what was in my heart: "Why don't I sit in the middle?" "Because my cousin is the eldest of the three children, and you and your cousin are both grandsons of your grandparents, so of course you have to sit next to your grandparents." Dad replied road. "But grandma is so old. If others see it, will she laugh at me?" "You are wrong to think so," my father then taught me earnestly, "How can others laugh at you? Although grandma is old, But she has gone through decades of hardships for our family to be happy today. As the younger generation, we should respect and love her. Without grandma, there would be no dad, and without dad, there would be no you! "I suddenly realized and realized the mistake I had just made. If others see me sitting next to my grandma in the photo, not only will they not make fun of me, but they will think that I am a good child who respects his elders and is caring!

I happily returned to the living room on the third floor, walked briskly to where I was sitting for the photo, took a big apple with respect, and handed it to grandma. Grandma smiled slightly, handed the apple back to me, and said kindly: "Grandma is old and her teeth are no longer useful. Grandma understands the idea of ??a good grandson. It's better for you to eat it!" At this time, Dad shouted: "Look at me, everyone." Come here!" I held the apple left by my grandma in my hand and stared at the camera. There was only a "click" sound, and this beautiful moment remained in the camera forever. After posting the photos, I took them, had them molded, and kept them in a photo album.

A photo contains such a story; a photo makes my mind fly back to ten years ago; a photo gives me an education of love. It is such an ordinary yet extraordinary photo that taught me how to respect and love our elders. Only in this way will our lives become better, our families happier, and our society more harmonious.