There is a place essay

There is a place essay 1

There is a place, as soon as you read her name, your mouth will be full of fragrance and beauty.

Suzhou, under your knees, there are so many ancient villages and ancient towns scattered like pearls, pastoral scenery and ports, and urban commercial culture blend with each other. You are quiet and timeless, like regular script, like a poem you just wrote, and you can still vaguely smell the fragrance of ink.

How many days of leisure can you steal in this life? It is best to calm down, read the book, and enjoy the scenery of Suzhou. There are always some unfamiliar and familiar names that have been covered in dust and scattered in the depths of the years. Me? He is a person who is unwilling to be lonely and takes pleasure in loneliness. I want to dig out your shadow from the old and yellowed book. How can I bear to wake you up with soft and classic light and shadow? I really want you to sleep alone for a while, but I can't bear to touch it. I just want to watch it quietly. Who is this person who doesn’t know how to respect himself? It disturbs your dreams and wakes you up by the singing riverside.

In your residual shadow, I want to find some stories that have been forgotten by everyone, and plan the building again. The harmonious unity of heaven and man, and the three-dimensional and exquisite beauty are reflected to the most extreme from here.

You are famous in Chinese culture for your scholarly family background, and you have been dazzling in Chinese history for thousands of years with your versatile image. I have praised your words and praised your paintings for thousands of years, and they are still continuing to this day. When will it end? There seems to be no end, no end.

I will eventually be lost in the wind of time and dreams. I hope that one day, you will pick me up, because I have dreamed of you and am also in your world. experienced. Read and feel the beauty and tranquility of life with a contented mind. The grass by the pond will become green and dry, and dry and green again. Your story and your changing shadow will continue in the intertwined prosperity. I just don’t know if I can hang a notebook on your historical wall after I pass by, even if it’s just an inscription! There are too many people in the world who cannot forget or ignore you. Because of you, I feel that coming to this world is worthwhile.

Your natural beauty and your humanistic beauty are indescribably intoxicating. I chant you in the sound of oars and lights, and write a few graceful poems beside your lingering streets. Occasionally I raise my head and see a girl wearing a blue cheongsam. She gradually leaves my eyes and writes poems. The boy has felt nostalgia and reluctance since then. In modern days, I leave behind a memory about classical music, which is a bit sour and bitter, probably because I didn’t have time to confess!

What am I thinking about right now in this world? What did I gain by staying in a secular, nostalgic, yet gentle and graceful city? What else was thrown away? With an extremely beautiful motive, in the streets and alleys, slowly twisting the konghou music, an indescribable secret is revealed in my heart. There is a Place Essay 2

My hometown has always been a distant place in my life.

My soul is wandering and has never found a home. No matter I am eight, eighteen, twenty-eight or thirty-eight years old, I have been looking for the one who can make me Where to stay...

I can feel the sharp wind and the knife-like air, but I have to live with this feeling.

I don’t know why, but I always feel that death is not the end, but rebirth.

Everyone in my life is just like a symbol. They write every period of my life and time.

The one I care about most is my mother. Although I have not brought her any happiness or comfort in this life, she is the motivation for me to continue to live. With my mother here, at least in my heart, I still feel that I have a mother. Home, I feel like I have roots.

In this world, everyone is different, everyone has their own sadness and sadness, but the final outcome is death.

Because I have always known that this ending is the result that everyone cannot escape, no matter how painful and painful it is, I will never think about ending my life.

In April last year, my second brother passed away. He was only 45 years old when he passed away. Apart from my unspeakable sadness, I have been thinking, where did my second brother go?

What is death? Is there really nothing left?

After my second brother died, I met him twice in dreams, once shortly after his death. In the dream, I already knew that he had passed away, and I asked him: "Do you have any regrets?"

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He said: "No, I am just paying attention to my younger son's grades now. His grades are not ideal!"

Then he took me to an open space and pointed to the A grave bag said: "Now I live here, it is very quiet, there is nothing to worry about!"

After I woke up, I didn't cry or be afraid. This is the psychic ability of my relatives. Maybe the two Brother really left with peace of mind.

Another time I dreamed of him. Not long ago, he said that he could not find his wife, and then he told our sister-in-law, but no one believed it.

After I woke up, I couldn't calm down for a long time. I couldn't figure out why he was still looking for this woman after he went to another world? If this woman hadn't hurt him so deeply, he wouldn't have left so early.

Isn’t he dead? Why can't everything stop after death?

Here, I don’t want to talk about his life. In fact, everyone’s life is full of misfortunes and disasters, so his life and death may just be a debt repayment. I owe another lifetime debt, and then pay it back in the next life.

I only see the impermanence of life from my second brother, which makes me cherish every minute and every second of myself.

I know that my destiny is not much better than that of my second brother. No matter when and where, I just exist silently, suffer silently, and work silently.

But I know that I see more clearly than my second brother. When he was in pain, he chose to drink to drown his sorrows, and then he fell into trouble and couldn't extricate himself. But I was different. I also drank to drown my sorrows. But I will not sink the wheel. After I wake up, I will work hard, count the time seriously, and live every inch of my time, even if I have to face the pain that I cannot escape.

I rarely cry, but that doesn’t mean I won’t cry. When I take a shower, I can’t let go for a long time through the water column. I would let tears fall quietly out of my eyes when I was alone, but as soon as someone came close, my tears would be withdrawn consciously.

I won’t cry in front of others, because I think crying is a shameful thing, because when I was a child, I was always kicked out of the house by my eldest brother and was not given food. At that time, I was just confused and confused I cried, but crying did not bring me any mercy. It only caused ridicule and whispers from my neighbors and classmates.

Later, I always wanted to stay away from this kind of life and days, so I wanted to marry far away without any hesitation. I just felt that only by marrying far away could I escape from all this.

The opportunity came when I was 17 years old. My father passed away.

When my father passed away, he called me to him and said: "After I die, you go to work. Your little brother will study while working. I told his fortune. He is the only one who knows how to eat the royal food." "Child!"

I didn't speak, I didn't know what to say, I just accepted the arrangement silently.

When I left home, I was actually a little bit happy, because I finally escaped from this nightmare place. I told myself in my heart: "I will never come back!"

< p> So, I learned from the painful experience. At the age of eighteen, I stubbornly refused the pursuit of one outstanding young man from my hometown, because there was always a voice in my heart telling me: I will never go back, never Go back to any place that is close to that home.

Then he appeared. He was far enough away from home, and his words were sweet enough. He was indeed different from the people at home, and he would still pamper me. Although his favor is conditional, he is much better than his elder brother and father at home, because no matter how much I try to please my father and elder brother, they have never been kind to me.

After we got together, even though I knew how miserable he was, I had no way out. This was my choice, and I had no way to escape...

I learned to accept my fate, I learned to be calm, I learned to give up and compromise.

I have struggled so seriously, always feeling that as long as I leave such a home, there will be happiness. But this is not the case. No matter how hard I work, suffering has never left me.

Actually, to take a step back, I am still happy now. At least I can have a corner where no one knows and cry without being disturbed. No one will laugh at me. I can cry without being disturbed. What a happy environment it is. There is a Place Essay 3

I have dreamed of a place countless times. At that time, the sun was just right and the breeze was calm!

——Inscription

Such good weather is not common anymore!

Taking a break from my busy schedule, I sat lazily in the shade of a tree, squinting and watching the sunlight leaking through the leaves, sparsely scattered into mottled light and shadow on the green grass. The sky is very blue, a clear blue sky, endless blue, with two white clouds occasionally floating around lazily. The gardenias on campus are all blooming, and the faint floral fragrance makes people feel slightly tipsy. Close your eyes and take a deep breath, it is a kind of sweetness and relaxation for the body and mind. The breeze gently picked up the broken hair beside my ears and said to me softly, "Good afternoon!"

Neither hot nor dry, the weather is really suitable for taking a nap!

I took a nap with the fragrance of gardenia flowers. I clearly remember that in my sleep, I came to a place.

I have dreamed of that place countless times. At that time, the sun was just right and the breeze was calm! Green mountains and green waters are adjacent to each other. The mountains are green and the water is blue. In the gurgling stream, there are some cute little lives that are active! On the shore, there is an old tree. The tree may be very old, but it is not old. His branches are still burly, and the wrinkles carved on his torso by the years have not diminished his majesty at all. Such an old tree will occasionally drop some petals.

I don't know the name of the flower, but I like to see the way the flowers fall, paving a shallow flower path. Occasionally, I reach out my hand to catch two flowers and put them in my hair.

Laughter can be heard from time to time in the distance. The fast-paced life here seems to have nothing to do with the residents. People like the comfort and ease of a slow pace. No need to strain your nerves, no need to think about whether to walk or run next while walking or eating? Everyone here seems to be very comfortable and content with their current lives. Seeing them, your tired and tired heart will instantly relax, as if life should be like theirs, and you only need to enjoy the happiness of the moment.

In this place, it seems that there have never been any disputes or conflicts, and the people are extremely friendly. You will see the leisurely and calm smile on everyone's face. Everything is step-by-step and orderly. There is no intrigue or intrigue, but only small touches overflowing from ordinary little things. As far as the eye can see, the host is standing at the door of the yard, warmly inviting his neighbors to the house, bringing out the freshly picked fruits and vegetables, telling him to try them quickly; the girl on the roadside carefully picks up the naughty fruits and vegetables but does not throw them into the garbage. Bucket of banana peels, walking slowly while supporting the accompanying grandma; the shop on the street is the smiling farewell of sellers and customers, and the encouraging hugs of partners in front of the office building...

I don’t know the dream. In the end, I dreamed of that place more than once, but I always woke up from the dream every time. I only remember that I was strolling in my dream, suddenly trotting, and then running wildly. I ran across the river bank where the willows were blowing in the breeze, across the intersection where the spring flowers were blooming, through the kind and hospitable people, and through the gurgling water under the shade of green trees... I don't know why I'm running, and I don't know where I'm going. I don’t know what I’m chasing, or maybe I’m chasing nothing. I sometimes think, aren’t the things I see beautiful? But why do I wake up every time? What happened during this period? I think I may have fallen into a dream within a dream. I know that I am dreaming, and I am dreaming of a place...

"Bang -" there is a crisp sound of glass falling to the ground.

"You don't have eyes when you walk, so I'll give you my cup."

"I'll pay you? I'll sit with you for a while. A good dog won't block the way. Get out of the way."

"..."

Both of them cursed and walked away, leaving behind a pile of broken glass, with dots of white light reflecting off the larger glass blades.

Taking a deep breath of the gardenia-scented air, I rubbed my drowsy temples and smiled bitterly as I collected the glass shards that made people take a detour. Standing in front of the trash can and looking around, I thought, maybe, this is probably the answer to the dream that has no ending... There is a Place Essay 4

There is a place in my memory, very beautiful, so beautiful Intoxicating. I'm looking back and it's smiling.

That is a river, people call her Xijiang River. The river always flows slowly eastwards. I remember that during the days of dreaming, I once put ninety-nine paper cranes on the water and watched them slowly drifting with the current. My heartbeat also slowly slowed down, imagining them going to where I wanted to go.

The river is quiet, reflecting the village and the mountains. The mountains are rolling and the melons and fruits are fragrant. Especially in June, lychees are ripe, and clusters of lychees are bright red. The red lychees all over the mountain are like colorful clouds falling from the sky. Peel off the skin, and the crystal clear lychee meat is sweet and delicious, reminding you of Mr. Dongpo's masterpiece: Eat 300 lychees a day, and you will grow up as a Lingnan native. When lychees turn red, so do people’s lives. Before dawn, people began to rush to the mountains. What to do? Go pick lychees. Purchase points have been set up everywhere in and outside the village. Truckloads of lychees are shipped to all parts of the country. The fragrance of lychees in Xijiang is fragrant to Xijiang Village, to the children wandering away from home, and to the descendants of China.

The water in the river is so clear that you can see the fish, shrimp and clams in the river. I remember when I was a child, my friends and I would often roll up our trousers, step into the river, and put our hands into the water to pick up river mussels. After half an hour of picking up, there was half a bucket. So I hummed happily and went back carrying the heavy bucket. After returning home, I soaked the river mussels for two or three days, changed the water several times, and then prepared them for hot pot. At that time, boil a large basin of water and pour the mussels into it. When the mussels open their mouths, pour the mussels into the plastic basket. At this time, sit on a small stool and peel off the clam meat with your hands. Then pour these white clam meat into the boiling white porridge. After a few minutes, add chopped green onion, salt and soy sauce, and stir evenly. After a while, the fragrant mussel porridge is ready to eat.

The river is shallow, and the deepest point is only about the height of an adult. At that time, there was an oasis in the middle of the river. My friends and I often drive the cows to the oasis. After that, we either played in the water, caught fish and shrimps, picked up river mussels, or just played wildly on the river beach.

Speaking of the river beach, there is so much fun on the river beach! The river beach is large, the sand is fine and white. During the Chinese New Year or August 15th, the night on the river beach is always lively and full of laughter. On such a festival, around seven or eight o'clock, the big brothers and sisters start gathering and barbecue on the beach, and don't go back until midnight. For me, the river beach is drawing paper, and a small stick is a colored pen. What I like most is drawing and writing on the river beach. I can draw whatever I want according to my own wishes. Sometimes I draw flowers and plants, sometimes I draw villagers and elders, sometimes I draw a different look, sometimes I draw a few words... Happiness is planted in sand paintings.

I also remember that when I grew up, I used to chat with my friends on the river beach on a summer night, talking about career, love and life. The evening breeze blew coolly, the river gurgled, the frogs croaked, and fireflies were flying everywhere...

During the day, hard-working people left a string of footprints on the river beach. Especially in the morning and evening, uncles, aunts or elder sisters will pick up dung buckets and go to the river to carry water, one load, two loads, three loads... The vegetables on the river slopes are nourished by the river water, and each one grows taller. It's green and moist. I remember the vegetables my mother grew, which were so tender that they could not withstand a gentle pinch; I remember cooking the vegetables my mother grew, the taste was so special that it penetrated my heart and lungs...

In memory, This place is beautiful, so mesmerizingly beautiful. The sun casts golden light on its face, and the moon gently covers it with silver gauze. There are bird nests in the bamboo forest by the river, and the birds are always singing happily. It exudes unique beauty all year round. This beauty grew up happily with me and made my childhood colorful.

Suddenly, one day, a boat came on the river, and a group of people came, and then another boat came, and another group of people came... The boat rumbled, day and night... On the river bank , piles of sand like mountains. The truck carrying sand loaded up and drove away, and soon came back, going back and forth non-stop... Gradually, the river bed became wider and wider, the river became deeper and deeper, the oasis was gone, and the river beach was gone. . What is reflected in the water is no longer the beautiful shadow of the lychee tree, but the fast-growing eucalyptus. Fast-growing eucalyptus is everywhere, riverside, slopes, mountains... Factories have been built on the shore, and the discharged sewage is rolling down, and the river water is gradually turning turbid...

Now, looking at the deep I felt scared when I saw the bottom of the river. I heard people say that the deepest part is at least as high as a bamboo pole. People always tell their children never to go to the river. In people's hearts, this river has become a terrible devil.

Yes, Xijianghe, you were once a painting, full of sunshine; you were once a poem, with beautiful artistic conception. You once had poems and paintings in your dreams, and flowers bloomed every night in your dreams.

Now, who tore your painting? Who ruined your mood? Who broke your erotic dream? You are crying, you are accusing, you are sighing.

Your poetic and picturesque sentiments fragrant my memory and warm my heart.

In the world of memory, you are so beautiful and intoxicating!