An 800-word essay on recalling my hometown

The memories of my hometown are as beautiful as the pages sandwiched in a classic book, quiet, simple, and hidden in philosophy. Whenever I think about the beautiful scenery of my hometown, I think of the beautiful people, the beautiful things in my hometown, and the even more beautiful scenery. What you can't reach is called a distant place, and what you can't go back to is called your hometown. The following is an "800-word essay on recalling my hometown" that I compiled for reference only. An 800-word essay on recalling my hometown (1)

"Come back, come back, I am tired and tired..."

Look at the clouds of my hometown floating in the sky, they come carelessly, But I...

If I were an orchid that has lost its roots or a flying autumn flower, then the memory of my hometown will give me the strength to return to the earth. If I were a floating duck or a broken dandelion, then the memory of my hometown would give me the courage to stay attached to the world, and everything would become a precious memory.

Time will turn water into steam, but he cannot prevent steam from turning into water and returning to heaven and earth. When the raindrops proudly said to the earth: "I am the child you have exiled and called thousands of times." Time can only sigh, because in front of the memory of hometown, it seems so far away. Weather cannot fade the memory of my hometown, otherwise, how could it be...

How could there be the melancholy murmur of "When will my home arrive in my dream, and how many people will return on the Chunsheng River?" When the constant wind blows towards hometown, how many people can ride it towards the beauty in their dreams? Far away at the end of the world, it seems that the clock cannot turn around to take you back home, silent and quiet, with only a few withered leaves circling and stretching towards the front of your gaze. With your joints at this age, who would notice how heavy and helpless you are on your long journey? It's like your flying messy hair is breaking free from the restraints and trying to go home.

The infatuated lamentation of “I don’t know where I am blowing the reed pipe, and all the people are looking for their hometown all night long” dispersed in all directions in the dark night, and groups of fireflies circled away carrying full of nostalgia. Instead of carrier pigeons, it was used as a tool for conveying messages. How could I have expected that I would be old before I reached my hometown? When should I go there? In the dark night, the cold wind was biting and chilling. How should you cope with tomorrow's battle when you are hungry and cold? Lost in thought, what can I do? The long sound of the Qiang flute is like a relaxing potion that disturbs your weak soul; it is also like a sacrificial song to mourn you, but without solemn etiquette. Your heart is so confused and your emotions are overflowing. When will the billowing smoke and horse hoof prints disappear from your body? Dawn has come, and the deep sky has faded. How should you face the morning light when you are full of confusion and fear?

Oh! Your emotions also flow out: "The spring breeze is green again on the south bank of the river. When will the bright moon shine on me?" Hope is always hope. Reality and ideal may seem far apart, but a few actions on your part and a few words from others can make it come true. Keeping that homesickness, I didn’t expect the spring breeze to turn green again in the south of the Yangtze River. Standing on the opposite bank, the other bank within reach is separated by an insurmountable length. You didn't dare to shake your head after being scolded, and you were left with tears. The melancholy on the face stretches the corner of the sky into long hair, but it cannot grow to your hometown or pass on your lapel. Suddenly, Nanfei is nothing more than that. What comforting words can it bring you? I shed a few tears, my pale face reflected in the water, and I could only hold on to my lament!

Hometown! Your presence hangs everywhere I go, but you can't understand my state of mind and don't know how to bury that depth in your heart, leaving only a few traces of dreams. An 800-word essay on recalling my hometown (2)

My hometown, Zhutong Village, is a beautiful place. There is a strong sense of nostalgia here all year round.

As the grass sprouts, spring is here.

"March 3, boiled eggs", this time of year is the happiest time for children, who often go to the fields in groups to pull "shepherd's purse". The pulled out rice and vegetables cannot be put directly into the pot to cook eggs. The dirt on the grass must be washed off, and then the roots can be cut off with scissors before being put into the pot. When the juice of the ground rice and vegetables penetrates into the eggs, the eggs will become more fragrant, greener, and have the sweetness of the grass juice. The boiled eggs are slightly green and very sweet. The little ones will burst their bellies this time.

Spring slowly passes in this sweet fragrance, intertwined with countless interesting things...

Summer has arrived amidst the chirping of cicadas and the chirping of birds.

Every summer, my father would bring back a lot of watermelons. "Dad is back!" As soon as Dad walked to the gate, two "greedy cats" jumped out.

Who is it? ha! Of course it’s me and my brother. The weather is getting hotter and my brother and I have long wanted to eat watermelon. We hide behind doors just for this moment. Although the weather is very hot, I feel a little cool.

Pick up a big watermelon, put it in a basin, turn on the faucet, bend down, and gently wipe off the soil on the melon with your hands. After washing, put the melon gently on the table. Wipe the fruit knife clean and make a slash on the watermelon. As the knife sliced ??across it, the skin of the melon burst, and bright red juice immediately flowed down the blade. Before the melon was cut, my brother couldn't wait to take away a small piece. Hey, this brother, I haven’t eaten yet!

We held the melon and took a big bite without mercy, and the watermelon juice flowed down between our fingers. The endless watermelon must be shared with the neighbors. Summer slipped away quietly in the fragrance of melons, and the heat in my hometown gradually disappeared.

The golden fallen leaves are dancing, and the cool autumn wind blows by. Autumn comes with sweet fruits.

But here is the best season for eating sweet potatoes.

Everyone knows that sweet potatoes do not bloom, but in recent years, sweet potatoes have also been upgraded. The sweet potatoes in the field have bloomed, purple-red, and beautiful!

Carefully shovel it down, and then dig it up hard. In this way, a sweet potato comes out. Don’t think it’s easy. One minute on stage and ten years of work off stage. If you don't pay attention, only half of the sweet potato will be dug out.

The dug sweet potatoes can be steamed, fried, boiled, or roasted after being washed... Uh-ah! Oops, I'm drooling on the book, my little glutton!

Autumn is the season of harvest. Autumn is also spent in the harvest of farmers, and it also floats into the soil with the fallen leaves...

When I wake up, the goose feather snow falls from the sky. Come, the woods are white with snow, and the branches of the trees are filled with white snow. Winter is coming with heavy steps and cold north wind.

The ground, the house, and the trees were all covered with quilts made of winter snow. A long string of footprints were left in the snow in the distance, destroying its whiteness and tranquility. who? Who destroyed such a beautiful snowfield! Hey, it's me, don't accuse me, I'm doing big things!

Pushing, pushing, a big snowball appeared in the snow. "Brother, come on!" The younger brother who was still moving forward shouted breathlessly: "I can't push anymore! Come and help me!" The young brother was not very strong, but his voice was so loud that he almost knocked my The big snowball was shattered. Seeing his brother struggling, he had no choice but to help him. After building the snowman, we started having a snowball fight again. When we were tired, we ran to the kitchen. Mom looked at us and smiled quietly. Dad invited us to drink soup. Father's love and mother's love were condensed into a bowl of freshly stewed soup, and winter was no longer cold.

The snowman smiles in the heavy snow, the ribs soup is fragrant, and melts with the snowman in the woods in winter.

The four seasons in my hometown are full of my memories, with laughter and sweetness, and a strong nostalgia... The four seasons in my hometown are my best memories. An 800-word essay on recalling my hometown (3)

At home, I accidentally discovered a photo of my hometown. The photo had turned yellow and seemed to have been treasured for a long time. I looked at this photo, as if my thoughts had turned into a pair of invisible wings, taking me to fly. I seem to have seen my distant and familiar hometown.

When I was a child, I imagined that my hometown was the fairy tale kingdom written by Andersen. At that time, I innocently lay in front of the window and counted the stars in the sky. I always felt that the stars in my hometown were brighter and more beautiful than those in other places. Because the stars in my hometown - carry my childhood dreams, childhood fantasies, and my memories of my hometown.

At that time, I would snuggle in my mother's arms, listen to her telling stories, and fall asleep in my mother's soft voice. In my dream, I seemed to dream of Little Red Riding Hood and Cinderella, and I was so happy. I wanted to go to them and say hello to them, but they walked away with a smile. I was anxious and said to them: "Come back quickly!" But they flew further and further away...

Then At that time, whenever the Mid-Autumn Festival came, I would nestle in my grandfather's arms, listen to him tell the story of "Chang'e flew to the moon", and eat moon cakes to look at the moon. The whole family sat together and had fun talking about the interesting things they had encountered in the past few years. But I looked at the moon in my hometown...

At that time, I would go to the hillside with my friends to catch butterflies. As soon as I saw the colorful butterflies, I would follow them carefully and wait until When the butterfly is tired of flying and rests on leaves and flowers, I will carefully walk over, hold my breath, pick up the saucer net, "Hey! Got it! Yeah!" and watch the butterfly catch the saucer. Struggling in the net, my heart is as sweet as honey! At that time, whenever the sun was high in the sky, I would "swim around" in the alley like a fish. Then I would come back to eat after being sweaty, which made my mother say: "Hey, you In this case, I will take you away from this "shameful place!" "Although I knew my mother was lying to me, I still felt scared. At that time, I still remember that the river in my hometown was so clear. It is so clear that you can see the stones on the bottom of the river, it is so clear that you can see the small fish swimming in the water, and it is so clear that you can see the reflection of the willow trees on the river.

The wind swept across the water, and the stream was still flowing without any change. I love to play by the river with my friends. This river carries the laughter and laughter of me and my friends, and my childhood fantasies! To this day, the people in that hometown are still shouldering the heavy burden of building their hometown with their hard-working hands and shoulders, relying on themselves amidst hardships and difficulties, and creating "possibility" out of "impossibility". Their sweat has already been flowing in their hometown, nourishing the earth wherever they go. I will never forget the blue and transparent sky in my hometown, the clear and transparent river in my hometown, and the hardworking and simple people in my hometown. There are only memories of my hometown. An 800-word essay on recalling my hometown (4)

It is already night, the stars are still dimly twinkling, the moon is still shining gently, the shadows of the trees are dancing, and the silhouette of the swaying street lamps outlines the mystery of my hometown. back view.

The moon has quietly climbed up into the night sky, gently spreading its silvery light to the earth. The dilapidated street lamps on both sides of the road swayed in the wind, emitting a faint light, showing the dim attitude towards life.

On the side of the road, a little girl looked up and stared at the night sky, opened her small mouth with a few missing front teeth, and said, "The moon is so beautiful today!" Yes, it is so beautiful.

When we are busy, we may only inadvertently look up to appreciate the beautiful moonlit night, but the hustle and bustle of the city has led us into another noisy world. Here, there are those who pursue fame and fortune, those who argue about right and wrong, and those who are deaf to the orchestra... The development of the city and the take-off of enterprises have brought vigorous development to the hometown, but they have also robbed the former tranquility from the hometown. and vitality.

"I hope that people will live long and live thousands of miles away from the moonlight." The barriers of thousands of mountains and rivers cannot cut off the transmission of moonlight. Under the same starry sky, we gaze at the same moon and miss the same person. home.

Once upon a time, the cheerful scenes during the busy farming season were nostalgic, and the fragrance of wild flowers on the field ridges was evocative. But now, tall buildings have risen one after another, burying all the beauty of the countryside behind steel and concrete. But in this tall building, there are only those white-collar workers who are always tireless, typing on the keyboard, staring at the screen motionlessly.

Once upon a time, I was walking alone on a country road. From time to time, passers-by would say hello politely to me. In school, when exams were not satisfactory or when I was in a bad mood, there were always people around me. Some people asked for help, but now, everything no longer exists, not only the people in my hometown, but also my hometown. Passers-by wandering in a hurry on the cross streets always lower their heads and think about their own things. Occasionally they look up and just look at the road ahead, with no one else in their eyes. By chance, a couple walked by, but they stayed away. Although the school had been built more brand-new, only a few faint memories of the past were left behind.

The moon in my hometown has long been dimmed due to lack of people's appreciation;

The tranquility of my hometown has left us because of the hustle and bustle of the city;

The longing for my hometown , due to the indifference of relatives far away from home, has been lost in time;

The leisurely life of hometown has become a luxurious fantasy due to economic development;

People in hometown have also lost their love due to the economic development. The changes in my hometown have made me more myself...

I, the little me, sit at the desk, watching the steam coming out of the teacup filled with fragrant tea, and quietly miss my hometown. : What is far away from us is the moon of my hometown, the tranquility of my hometown, the longing for my hometown, the leisure of my hometown, and the people of my hometown... An 800-word essay on recalling my hometown (5)

In countless Every day, I think about my dear hometown. The refreshing fragrance of flowers, the crisp and clear chirping of birds, the unforgettable wheat fields, and those dear parents, I miss them all the time.

However, now that I am studying abroad, I can’t help myself. There is only that deep feeling of longing...

The most unforgettable thing about my hometown is the Baique Temple standing in the mountains. He lives surrounded by mountains, with beautiful scenery that makes people forget to leave.

Standing at the foot of the mountain, Baique Temple stands halfway up the mountain, surrounded by tall and majestic mountains on all sides. If you stand on the top of the mountain behind Baique Temple, you will have a feeling of "being at the top of the mountain and seeing all the small mountains at a glance", which makes people express infinite emotion.

To go from the foot of the mountain to Baique Temple, you first have to walk a winding mountain road. Walking along it in summer, you can hear the chirping of cicadas everywhere. If you walk there in winter, with white snow and pine waves, it will be a different scene.

About a mile away, we arrived at Baique Temple. However, those who don’t know will ask: "Where is Baique Temple?" Because Baique Temple has no gate, it is just a temple. The people who come here are very pure in heart and do not have any evil thoughts, so there is no need to install a gate.

Continuing forward, temples appeared, with some famous stories carved on the walls. , the most touching thing for me is: one day, a man passed by a forest and saw a hungry tiger, so he cut off the meat from his leg and gave it to the tiger to eat. , that person is so kind. As for the other meanings, I still don’t quite understand.

Going further up, you will reach the end point and reach the largest temple. Go in and take a look, it’s so exciting! This is the Western Heaven of Tathagata Buddha! In the middle is Tathagata Buddha, with a roc standing on his head. Looking around, there are many strange-shaped characters, some with long legs, some with long arms, some with long eyebrows, each with their own strengths. The shapes are different, but they are all carved lifelike. It gives people a sense of majesty and solemnity, an impulse to worship, and an invisible admiration included in it.

Further up, there are endless mountains, and the scenery there is even better. Make people more intoxicated.

This is my hometown, isn’t it beautiful? Welcome to visit us