Third grade landscape writing composition

No matter in school or in society, you will inevitably come into contact with or use composition. Composition is a narrative way in which people express the relevant knowledge, experience and thoughts stored in memory in written form. There are many points for attention in composition. Are you sure you can write? The following is my carefully arranged composition of writing scenery in Grade Three for reference only. Let's have a look.

Wearing earplugs, I read alone in the classroom on the second floor. Books are boring, and I am even more boring.

I don't know how long it took, but when I looked up, it was getting dark. I took off my headphones and took a long breath. It's too cold. At this time, there was a buzzing sound in the corridor outside the classroom, and I was very happy. The sound drifted away and slowly disappeared.

I leaned back with my hands in my pockets. Put on earplugs and listen to music.

Not long after, I heard someone speak vaguely outside the window and saw a guy outside carrying a schoolbag with his hands open, as if embracing the sky. I stared at him strangely, and he turned to stare at me strangely. I looked away.

Will she miss me at this moment?

Smile, I don't think so. Who am I to her?

Sigh, plug in earplugs and continue reading. Watching, suddenly an idea hit my unprepared brain without warning. Why should I care if she thinks of me? As long as I miss her silently here, isn't it enough? I just want to be kind to her, and I don't want to be sorry for my fragile heart. Want to understand this, the mood suddenly relaxed.

Raise your hand and look at the time. Time to go. So I put on my schoolbag, put on my headphones and got up and left the classroom. I couldn't help humming a ditty along the way. Yes, I am still very happy at this time.

Downstairs, after a corner, I suddenly found that it began to snow.

Snowflakes are scattered all over the sky and slowly come to the ground with a faint light. At this moment, I seem to see the most beautiful scenery in the world. I welcome thousands of angels in white with open arms.

Suddenly I felt a beam of eyes coming at me. I looked up and saw a guy staring at me strangely on the second floor. I stared at him, too, and soon he looked away.

I suddenly got a little scared.

Write a landscape composition in grade three II. A leisurely green light and a yellow scroll; Tea with fragrant lips and teeth; An ethereal melody; A little light and dull.

-inscription

Sit by the window and listen to the rain ...

Holding a beloved book, I was intoxicated with it, and the familiar "tick, tick" sound came from my ear. I don't know when, an autumn rain came quietly. I put down my book, went to the window and listened to the beautiful voice with my heart.

The rain of "Sasha Vujacic" became louder, and there was no more "tick-tock, tick-tock" music. The rain has been woven obliquely, falling from the clouds in droves, accompanied by the gentle arrival of the wind.

As time went on, the rain became heavier again. This time, like a laughing child, you push me and I squeeze you. Jump on the ground in a hurry.

Out of the door, I opened my umbrella, stepped on the deserted path, and listened to the laughter of the rain falling on my umbrella. "Bang, bang, bang", the rain elf slipped on my umbrella, poked it and disappeared. I think. Where did he go to play again?

The rain gradually subsided, and the sound of "salad" became a "rustling" song, which fell on every inch of land. Like a naughty child's song, it bursts in the air.

The rain stopped, leaving me alone. From time to time, pedestrians hurried by, stepping on the "sound" of the rain and making "beep, beep" sounds.

"Pat", the sound of rain? Didn't you hear the rain? "Snapping-"Oh, it's the sound of raindrops accumulating on everything and dripping from everything. Every drop of rain will fall, bringing a glory to the world.

The sound of rain is varied, but nobody cares, but it is the most beautiful sound in the world. This is the most beautiful sound.

I, a city resident who is used to the bustling city, sat on the bus to a remote rural town.

Look far through the window.

When the line of sight collides with the scenery outside the window, the eyes are sharp. It seems that the dusty door in my heart was touched by someone's grave.

Outside the window, the mountains decorated by a large number of unknown trees are particularly eye-catching, and the green eyes are lush. It's continuous green. Look at that hillside, the tree in the middle has withered and oranges are everywhere, but in my opinion, this orange tree gives me the feeling that the king is noble. His perfect match with the surrounding green trees is unique.

The car, driving forward, the scenery outside the window is also changing.

Outside the window, a meadow is boundless. Green and charming. Close your eyes and imagine lying on the grass. Every inch of skin is in close contact with the grass, allowing the sun to flow on the body, a warm feeling, a feeling of being at home. Unconsciously, the corners of the mouth have raised a bright smile.

When I opened my eyes, I saw another scene.

Outside the window, a lake sparkles in the sun, and waves of twinkling stars rise and fall like elves, like Lydia. A group of green hills surround the royal water, and the lakes and mountains are reflected, and the water is green. Not far away, there was a private house with black tiles and white walls, and the smoke curled up, only to find that it was dusk. This kind of artistic conception reminds me of "Little Bridge Running Water"

The scenery outside the car made me face the original nature for the first time.

Unconsciously, when I returned to the city, the noise rang in my ear again.

Looking up at the sky, the sky in the city is gray and terrible. Looking back, those towering buildings, those roads that smell of asphalt, and those people who are in a hurry are all gray and lifeless.

I miss, miss the scenery that made me feel warm along the way, those are not gray scenery, that is my real desire!

The third day of writing landscape composition was gloomy for four days. Somehow, the sky suddenly changed. The sun hid in the clouds, and the earth suddenly lost its vitality; The sky is also occupied by a whole dark cloud. The hot weather cooled down a little, but it didn't last long.

Suddenly, there was a loud thunder, and a sudden storm followed. There are fewer and fewer people in the street, and my pace has accelerated, but I can't escape the rain after all. So I changed from walking to running. It rained so hard that I couldn't see the road clearly and almost hit someone. Although it rained heavily, I was embarrassed to say "I'm sorry". But this passer-by not only didn't appreciate it, but scolded an ugly word. This makes me feel very sad. Although passers-by don't feel sorry for me, he shouldn't scold me like this.

Later, I ran to a primary school and took shelter from the rain under the eaves of a family. At that time, the primary school was out of school, so the traffic jam was very serious.

"Hey, come in for shelter from the rain." I don't know who said such a sentence at this time. When I looked back, it turned out to be a group of primary school students who were hiding from the rain like me. But their kindness was rejected by me, because although their shelter was empty, after all, there were many people, and I was embarrassed to be crowded with them. "Come on in." They said to me for the second time. At this point, my heart wants to be touched by something, and I am very touched.

A group of primary school students have such noble moral sentiments, but perhaps it is because they are young and naive, which is also commendable!

Are there many people who can do this in today's society? Not much. Needless to say, even children and adults don't do this. Just like the passerby just now, we should think deeply. Now that the social economy has developed, should the ideological and moral level of the masses be improved?

On the third day of writing landscape composition 5, "Thousands of trees bloom in the east wind night and stars fall like rain" is the brightly lit south of the Yangtze River.

"Dead vines and old trees faint crows, small bridges and flowing water" is the depressed south of the Yangtze River.

Maybe it's better than I thought. It just added its own name.

Being here, I'm no stranger to it, maybe I'm just familiar with it and haven't read it carefully. "The deep autumn rain is a thousand curtains, and the sunset tower is a flute wind." It's foggy and rainy here, so I may come here often in spring. The West Lake is tender as water, and people's courtesy is like a dream, and people stay with it for a long time. Not as good as "the river that never returns, the waves have gone!" But it is still comparable to streams and lakes. If you quietly kill this intoxicating residue here, you might as well break the bridge. Although there is no poetry of Can Xue and no enthusiasm of Jiao Yang, it may just be the moist feeling of drizzle hanging on my forehead.

Water may be the master of Jiangnan. When a mountain turns over, it is water, and water bypasses mountains, rivers, mountains and jade bone. Lingge accompanied by erhu on the bridge may be quiet, desolate, melancholy or longing. Many thoughts spread out in the palm of your hand, and the boat in your heart glides across Qian Shan with the wind. The drizzle is hazy, walking on the bluestone road with an oil-paper umbrella in hand and walking through the deep alley. Splash of water flew on it, making hair unkempt. Several children ran across the oily stone road, giving out a burst of light smiles, decorating the road with flowers, and the breath in the deep alley was thick on the branches, so that pedestrians who wore branches and blew willows could walk among the flowers and smell the breath of birds. The quaint towering mountains stand there, standing upright in the wind, and there is almost a transpiration beauty in the rain, floating in the whole sky. The black Wu Peng boat rippled in the water, enjoying the smoke-filled town color.

In my memory, that lingering touch of gold and autumn. Yes, sad and silent autumn, happy autumn.

The ancients never liked autumn. She is not beautiful enough, not exquisite enough, and has nothing to do with the gorgeous atmosphere. Literati don't like her, and she always touches some memories that are not graceful enough; A thousand hands of cloth don't like her, she always brings some unsatisfactory reality. Thousands of years of wind and rain seem to have forged her into a symbol, a sad symbol, and she smiled back.

Noble, not arrogant, this is her soul. Have you ever imagined that at a certain time, when people are still working hard and haven't slept, she sat quietly in a corner, weaving a sweet dream, and then let this dream flow into the blood of the person who hugged her with her soul.

She is humble. She is as quiet as the sky and pale colors. Cicada is noisy, birds are singing in the distance, the burning has passed and the dust has stopped. She's here. Is she here?

She is kind, she is as tolerant as the earth and the earth. The moonlight is clear, the leaves are falling, the ears are overflowing, and the harvest is coming. She's here. She was here.

In autumn, there is no warmth of spring, no warmth of summer, no solemnity of winter, but in the new death and new growth, we have chosen tolerance. Over the years, she put her love in the soil and scattered it in the sky, as if it had only passed away at the end of time.

She's sad, too, at least it seems so. She abandoned some memory. "Those missing, beautiful and not beautiful, stop here." She said so. As a result, heaven and earth seem to be empty, so people's eyes and hearts are empty. Some people can't bear to blame her, but she doesn't excuse herself, just waiting for the time saved to bloom. People forget her when they feel "beautiful" ... always, she will forget. ...

If this is autumn, the green shoots in the withered vines, the green leaves overflowing from the old trees, and the lush trees beside the crows, autumn will be broad.

When the real autumn dies quietly, the autumn in my memory is becoming more and more perfect, and a new autumn will come again.

In the wilderness, in the sky, only belongs to the autumn moon, walking lightly and forever.

The wind outside the window has been blowing, but it is obviously not as crazy as yesterday. However, when I heard that a 15-year-old girl was entangled in that hateful disease, my heart somehow fell to the ground like a glass vase and broke. The teacher's vivid teaching suddenly became so boring, and the leaves danced with the soft waist in the wind and danced with the beautiful waltz. However, all this seems so disgusting to me. I was amazed at my dazzling life.

How will laity, Confucian, honorable or humble people face this girl? Let her be swallowed up by the disease, or help her on the brink of death? Don't use "life is like the end of summer and death is like autumn leaves." In this way, comfort the fragile life that no longer needs comfort, and don't write "don't care" on your face. Because, when time goes by, when youth is not repeated, when those beautiful moments are fleeting, we will say loudly, "We care about everything!" " "

I can't bear a life as beautiful as flowers and jade to die young, and I can't bear a friend who lives with us under this blue sky to leave us forever.

The wind outside the window seems to have stopped and the leaves have stopped dancing. And I still looked at the blue sky outside the window, lost in thought. I wonder if the little girl under the care of angels in white is also looking up at the clear sky.

Perhaps, if we eat less ice cream, drink less bottles and surf the Internet once a day, it will also ignite the hope of this "ice girl" for life. At this time, eating, drinking and having fun is no longer worth our nostalgia and addiction. Because we don't allow any friends to leave us, because we are all young, we still have too many things to do!

The grass on campus was blown golden by the wind. The faces of a group of boys and girls are blooming like flowers, and the blue sky is overhead. They are waiting for the man who is also smiling like a flower to return to the team.

There is a river in front of my hometown. This river is full of vitality all year round. It is full of countless stories and brings us unlimited fun.

Spring girl came to the world with light steps. The river suddenly melted and the little fish danced happily in the water. Little flowers and grass by the river drill cute little heads out of the ground. There is a tall Gleditsia sinensis tree on the shore, and its branches are sprouting new buds. The river is crystal clear, and the tall Gleditsia sinensis trees are reflected in it, just like Sister Gleditsia looking at her short hair in the mirror!

Xia Ge ruthlessly drove Miss Chun away and came with hot air. The river was mercilessly stripped by the sun, so I offered to compete with my brother to catch fish. I put my pants on my knees and dived into the water carefully. Wow! Lots of fish! I quickly put my hand into the water and scratched everywhere, but found nothing. Look at my brother again. I've already caught a few. What's going on here? Am I inferior to him? Well, I don't believe it. He must be hiding something from me! I opened my eyes and searched carefully. Oh, it turns out that he fished in the water with a big net, so he caught more than a dozen. I quickly took a net like him, and sure enough, I caught a lot of fish, haha, more than my brother! I won! Fishing is really interesting!

Brother Qiu replaced Brother Xia with Brother Cool. The river is only half a foot deep, as quiet as flawless jade, shining with beautiful luster and crystal clear. I often sit by the river and enjoy this charming river with relish! There are wild chrysanthemums on both sides of the river, which are used to make tea. It's fragrant and rich, and it's really cool! The ground is covered with yellow butterflies on the acacia tree, like a happy letter, sealing the harvest.

Grandpa Dong came to take over Qiu's younger brother's class. Suddenly, it snowed heavily and the river froze. We skate on it and roll ice rings (snow rings made of ice). Mother Earth fell asleep peacefully under the quilt. Houses and trees are covered with cotton-padded jackets, just like the silver world in fairy tales. How beautiful!

The river in my hometown, my paradise!

The winter in memory is cold, so is the reality.

I can't bear to watch the geese fly south, crying all the way about the helplessness of leaving my hometown and the warmth of going to other places to find a better future. I am lonely and waving my heavy wings, but I can't shake my inner pain.

I can't bear to watch the dead leaves wither, but I want to whirlwind in the air, and I don't want to die prematurely, just like a butterfly that has lost its life, falling with the wind and splashing into the yellow mud.

I can't bear to see the frosty herbs, so arrogant, regardless of the disappearance of the only green leaves, still ravaging the broken stems shivering in the cold wind.

Walking alone on a path with yellow leaves all over the sky, there are not many people around. Occasionally I pass by one or two, and my expression seems very vague. I looked around my world and hurried by.

Let the emptiness of the soul be lightly decorated, and be willing to imprison yourself in a cold iron cage, unwilling to pay, afraid to pay, afraid of injury, afraid of injury, the heart will inevitably be even colder. Hehe, my cold hands tightened the zipper, and then I hurried past.

After more than ten years, I found myself more and more empty: my childhood was wild and unrestrained. My childhood was washed away by time and faded to nothing, like a drop of ink in the lake. Thinking of my childhood memories, I hurried by.

Is it the cold season or people's cool thin? Why don't others act like children anymore? But isn't it the same for yourself? After reading this, I smiled at myself and walked over.

A person passing by, I can't remember her gender and age clearly, only remember that faint smile, I still remember it clearly. Smiling without rejection, smiling without disguise, smiling spotless, the suppressed air seems to dissolve, as if waking up from a dream.

That smile appeared on his face on purpose and he walked forward.

After a cold winter, I came to a beautiful spring.

Henan School Grade Three: Yang

Write a landscape composition in grade three 10 "I am standing on the bridge watching the scenery, and the people watching the scenery are watching me upstairs." Yes, I have a view around me. Although the scenery in my eyes is constantly changing, it is true.

Lens one

The night is dim, and the whole city has not yet awakened. But regular brushing broke the silence of the night. This is the beautician in our city, and the hard cleaning workers have already started to work. They are the people who welcome the first ray of sunshine in this city, and their hardworking figures constitute the most beautiful scenery in this city.

Lens 2

"to see the sun, for all his glory, buried by the coming night." You see, in the sunset, two old men with silver hair helped each other across the road and into the park. One of them just coughed twice, and the other quickly patted him on the back, showing meticulous care in every move and word. Their mutual support constitutes the warmest scenery in this city.

Lens 3

At the crowded bus stop, an old woman was about to walk to the crowded bus, and the people around her immediately gave up a passage. She was greeted by a milky and cheerful voice, "Grandma, please sit down!" I want to stand with my mother for a while! "As soon as his voice fell, he heard another warmer voice:" Good boy, sit down. I'll let grandma and my aunt sit here! ""while speaking, the old man has been helped to his seat. This figure of respecting the old and loving the young constitutes the most touching scenery in this city.

……

The lens changes and the scenery changes constantly, leaving a vivid picture. It is precisely because of these flowing figures and changing scenery that a steel city has become emotional, lively and attractive. It is all this that constitutes the most beautiful scenery in my eyes!

Writing composition for grade three 1 1 As night falls, the bright lights on the moat shine like stars in the sky and jade belts.

The night in the moat is beautiful and dreamy.

On both sides of the river stood a graceful "woman". They are wearing long green dresses with long hair, bending left and right, as if dancing with sleeves and classical dancing.

The wicker near the water is like a green rain, and it is like a dragonfly crossing the water, rippling like scales. The tender willows sprout in clusters, just like the green pigeons spreading their wings. They feel hard, but before long, they will grow into tender willow leaves.

I stood by the willow tree and looked at the gurgling river. There is also a little boy looking at me. I smiled at him and he smiled back at me. We looked at each other for a long time. Suddenly, he reached for the moon in the sky, but he waved his hand several times, but he didn't even touch the shadow of the moon. He didn't give up, stood on tiptoe, stretched out his arm and tried to reach forward. Gradually, his hand is getting closer and closer to the moon.

At last he saw the moon in the sky, but the moon fainted into several layers. It turns out that he is not fishing for the moon in the sky, but I am fishing for the moon in the water! The night of the whole city is reflected in the jade river, and even I can't tell which is which!

The lights on the shore are getting brighter and brighter. The light came out from all kinds of antique mahogany lampshades and poured on the path by the river, covering me like a big net.

I walked along the path by the river in this light, accompanied by wonderful light music. The murmur of the river should be echoed with people's whispers; People's whispers are floating in the breeze; The breeze caresses the grass, wild flowers and willows, and the night in the moat is so beautiful and dreamy!

Willow trees are shaded, the banks are brightly lit, and the beautiful moat is fascinating!

Writing Landscape Composition 12 Life is not short of scenery, but the eyes that find it. People who love life, beauty is everywhere, and their eyes are full of good scenery.

The scenery in my eyes is a row of bright windows. Outside the window are quiet overpasses, countless buttonwood trees and noisy roads. The trees outside the window are flourishing and withered. Cars are always shuttling on the expressway. People on the bridge come and go in a hurry, but we are always writing in the classroom, full of laughter and reading all year round.

The scenery in my eyes is a narrow window, outside which are birch and ginkgo trees. A building stands quietly, next to the playground of the primary school. The building is silent all year round. The birch and ginkgo trees are green and green, yellow and green. There are always children playing ball games on the playground, which is always full of laughter.

The scenery in my eyes is a spacious street, full of traffic, crowds and noise from morning till night. There are schools along the road, and there are all kinds of small shops next to them. You can always see the lights flickering in the teaching building, and students flock and flee. Parents who send their children are coming and going. They drive their children to school tirelessly every day until they see them enter the school gate. This is the most striking scenery in this street.

The scenery in my eyes is a gravel road, next to trees and flowers. There is often a bench that stays quietly by the roadside for passers-by to rest when they are tired. Mosquitoes swarmed here in summer, and it was deserted in winter. Occasionally, piano sounds come from nearby windows. Here, conifers and lilacs set each other off in spring, and roses and Parthenocissus tricuspidata compete for beauty in early autumn, which makes them interesting.

Scenery, an endless topic. Just like a kite flying in the air in Yuanye, we can feel its breath; Watching a flock of geese herringbone back to the south, you can feel its rhythm.

The third grade landscape writing composition 13 is full of red maple swaying its red face in the autumn wind, and my maple leaf is also dancing in it, interpreting the ups and downs of my heart at this moment.

I am dancing. The autumn wind unconsciously left traces of years on me ―― my body has been wrapped in the color of fire. My dance is no longer light and free. The cruelty of the years made me feel bitter for the first time. Rocks and gravel jump in front of my eyes like children; The young goshawk sang happily, as if youth were beating. At the moment, I can only beat the sound like a drum, singing young memories with a heavy heart. A vague sense of sadness arises spontaneously. Is the rustling after the wind a sob in our hearts?

I am dancing. In the bloody sunset, it reflects the tranquility and harmony before the end of life. The setting sun seemed to fall on the treetops, and my head was pierced by the petals of my five-star leaf, and the golden paste dripped all over the treetops, plating the maple forest resplendent. My red face has extraordinary beauty in this golden world. The crow streaked across the sky, leaving admiring eyes. For the first time, I am happy that I can contribute a bright red beauty to nature. A proud sweetness flows in my heart. Just like the sweetness after Longjing tea, it slowly drifted away and penetrated into the heart and spleen.

I am dancing. Autumn wind does not pity my aging body. I swayed under the blade of the wind. The companions beside him fell down one after another, swinging out the last sad dance music in the air. I can't bear to part with them, but I always have to part with them. Tears of pain blurred my eyes in the dry air. I don't want to end my red maple dance like this. Maybe the beauty I contributed is far from enough. I don't want to ... my throat is full of coffee.

Write a landscape composition 14 Maybe it's raining and you can't hang clothes: Maybe it's raining and you can't go out to play; Maybe rainy days bring you a lot of inconvenience, but I like rainy days and listen to the sound of rain.

I remember a time when it rained and flooded Little Square in front of my house. I watched the children tread water. I looked at my mother excitedly. With her permission, I took off my shoes and played in thigh-deep water. Playing and playing, I fell into the water and cried in pain, but I still had to play with the water. As a result, I was the last to leave.

I still go out to play even if it rains. Rainy roof tiles, with wet streamers, are gloomy and gentle, with dim light and dark backlight, which is a low comfort to vision. As for the rain hitting the tile, it trickles down the tile trough and eaves with a trickle from far and near, and all kinds of knocking and sliding sounds are closely woven into a net. Whose fingers are massaging the helix and whose hands are fiddling with the keys on the roof, making the morning suddenly dusk. ...

In a trance, I returned to the country in my memory.

"Ah," Chai Fei green gas is who? Is it a woman washing wool with a basket, or a child with unkempt hair? "Cheep-cheep-"The bicycle ran over the slate, leaving a beating note. In the street, the bustling crowd, men, women and children, talked to each other regardless of the rain. "Knock-knock-"Who is knocking at the door?

Looking up, listening to the sound of rain falling, the raindrops jumped up, imagining that the water drops brushed in front of me, wetting the eaves like rain to ward off evil spirits, and gathering together along the ditch between the tiles without crossing the grass on the tiles. The grass leaves are washed green and swaying on the roof, decorated with simple and monotonous roofs and decorated with faint dreams of people inside. Then, it flows through the tile, washes off the tile, gathers at the tile, and then knocks the jade note on the slate. When the rain is fierce, the tiles all over the house will make the sound of iron pipa.

Hear the sound of raindrops sliding across the roof. ...

Moonlight is the most hurtful thing. There are chrysanthemums under the moon, and there is autumn chill after the rain, which is chilling white. It's already night, and I'm walking alone on a quiet path, wandering in the community. Come to think of it, I am also looking for autumn scenery.

The night sky is lonely and sad. The moonlight spilled down. After the rain, it cleared up. Holding an umbrella in his left hand, he looked at the willow under the lamp.

At this time, the world was dark. Except for the bright moon, there are only lights left. The moonlight is dim and the lights are dim, setting off the green willows. The lush branches covered half the lamp. The light glowed, showing a faint silver halo around the willow leaves.

Willow leaves are not yellow, but they have faded the childishness of spring and become more and more vicissitudes. It's still light green, but it's more stable after all. It is green, but it is not fresh, but it is very eye-catching. Although there are some contradictions, it is not easy to ponder. This is the charm of autumn.

I approached gently, trying not to disturb the peace.

A pool of water, in this bleak moon, slowly rippled into my heart. A lamp, in this infinite silence, silently shines on the "beauty of the South" beside me. No regrets.

A tree is autumn, still, but empty and thin; Autumn wind rises, bleak, but cold. When you are alone, you will know that autumn has come. Hua Yao reflected the que, cold and moving. The beauty of autumn, so; The rhyme of autumn is also.

It is not as subtle as spring. Autumn, with its most straightforward language, tells us the most beautiful story without any modification. Fireworks are in full bloom and will eventually go out; Three springs are like brocade, and the position is bleak. Why should we maintain that high-profile prosperity? Banana leaves cover deer, turn hands into clouds, and cover hands for rain. Autumn just waits quietly, and when winter comes, it withers. But it blossomed after all, didn't it? In the end, it was just a dream, that's all. But before that, Qiu will do very well and perfectly.

Willow swaying gently in the wind, is it nodding?