Traditional Culture Encyclopedia - Weather forecast - A good sentence to describe the scenery of Bailixia in summer
A good sentence to describe the scenery of Bailixia in summer
As soon as the sun came out, the ground seemed to be on fire.
It's so hot that it seems that a spark will cause an explosion.
The scorching sun is like fire, and the earth is like a steamer, which makes people breathless.
Walking on the road, the oncoming wind hit like a heat wave.
Early in the morning, cicadas cried loudly to tell people that another hot day had begun.
It's very hot in summer, and the birds don't know where to hide; Plants and trees hang their heads; The puppy was so hot that it stuck out its tongue and kept panting.
Cicada kept making annoying calls on the branches, as if cheering for the scorching sun.
In summer, the vegetation is particularly lush, the leaves of holly trees are shining, and the old elm trees are flourishing, giving people a thick shade.
In summer, the clear river has become a good place for children to escape the heat. You see, they are frolicking in the water, having a water fight for a while, fishing for a while, and having a good time.
The summer sun is like a big stove, scorching the earth. Even the air is hot, and people sweat when they move.
Buffalo has already hid in the pond, and its whole body is buried in the water, with only one head exposed to the water to breathe.
In July, the sun hung like a fireball in the blue sky. The cloud seems to have melted by the sun and disappeared without a trace.
Spring goes with the falling flowers, and summer comes with green leaves in the warm wind.
The early summer sun shines through the dense branches and leaves, and the ground is covered with shiny spots the size of copper coins.
The wind blows with a slight warmth, and cuckoos sing from time to time. It is telling us: "Spring is over."
Grass, reeds and red, white and purple wildflowers are steamed by the fiery red sun hanging high in the air, and the air is filled with sweet and intoxicated breath.
In early summer, all kinds of wild flowers are in full bloom, red, purple, pink and yellow, like bright spots embroidered on green carpets; Crowds of bees are busy among the flowers, sucking the stamens and flying around with difficulty.
In midsummer, it is so hot that even dragonflies only dare to fly near the shade, as if they were afraid that the sun would burn their wings.
There is not a cloud in the air, there is not a wind, there is a scorching sun overhead, and all the trees are standing there listlessly and lazily.
In midsummer July, there is not a cloud in the blue sky. The sun is scorching the earth, the water in the river is boiling hot, and the soil in the field is smoking.
Under the scorching sun, on both sides of the road, ripe grains bent down and lowered their heads in the heat. There are so many grasshoppers.
Grass leaves, wheat and rye fields, wheat and rye fields, reeds on the shore make a weak and noisy sound.
The sun is like a fireball of the boss, the light is burning, the road surface is scorched by the scorching sun, and a pile of white smoke is stepped on.
It's sweltering and there's not a breath of wind. The thick air seems to have solidified.
The whole city is like a burnt-out brick kiln, which makes people breathless. Dogs lie prone on the ground with bright red tongues, and mules and horses have particularly large nostrils.
Flaming parachutes are hanging high in the air, so hot that fish in the river dare not surface and birds dare not fly out of the mountains. Even the dogs in the village just stick out their tongues and gasp endlessly.
That day, it was terribly hot. As soon as the sun came out, the ground was already on fire, and some gray gases, like clouds, like Feiyun, like fog, like fog, floated low in the air, making people feel breathless.
It was a long summer without rain, and the old loach in the field was turned white by the scorching sun. The stream near the village dropped several inches, and the stones above the water suddenly became bigger.
I don't know where the bird went; The vegetation is dejected and despondent, as if dying; Only cicadas keep chirping in the branches; It's really breaking gongs and drums to cheer for the scorching sun!
The willow trees in the street seem to be sick, and the leaves are hanging with dust and rolling on the branches, and the branches are still. There is white light on the road, and the vendors dare not shout. The plexiglass signboard at the door of the store seems to have been sunburned.
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