The story of rain writing essay

1. Stories about rain

When I was a child, I lived under a tiled house. Whenever it rained, I could hear the sad and sad sound of rain.

When I grow up, I live in a reinforced concrete forest. I can’t hear the sad sound of rain. It seems that life lacks a lot of aura, the softest and weakest things that can move people, and my heart Slowly deserting. So I missed the sound of rain in that tiled house.

Rain is weak, the lightest thing in the world, and cannot knock the heavy reinforced concrete building. The tiled house is different. Raindrops tinkling on it and immediately make a pleasant sound.

People in the hut have the blessing of being close to nature in the rain. When the rain falls rapidly, the sound becomes impassioned, like a hundred horses roaring in unison or ten thousand horses galloping.

The rain slows down and the sound weakens, gently penetrating your heart, like the breeze in your ears in the warm spring season. The tiles seem to be specially designed for the rain, and they perform their duties dutifully. People who listen to the rain feel filled with endless affection. People like to sit quietly and listen to the rain when their hearts are full of nostalgia and lamentation.

The aging patriots have the ambition of "lying down at night and listening to the wind and rain, and the iron horses and glaciers come into their dreams"; the twilight beauty has the resentment of "the trees with yellow leaves in the rain and the white-headed people under the lamp" ; Acacia lovers have the nostalgia of "the sycamore trees are drizzling, bit by bit at dusk"; the passionate poet has the reverie of "listening to the spring rain in a small building all night, and selling apricot blossoms in the deep alley in the Ming Dynasty". Rain has become a messenger for people to modify their feelings and express their wishes.

In my spare time, I was fortunate enough to return to the place where I once listened to the rain. It happened to be a light rain that day, and I heard the familiar yet unfamiliar sound of rain again.

In the mist, the sound of rain revealed a strange mood, the kind that we have not communicated with for a long time. It is thousands of miles away from me, showing me that it is unfamiliar to me, but I can feel the breath of its existence from the deepest part of my consciousness.

I feel the joy of waking up from a dream and the sense of vicissitudes after being confused. Oh, what I met in the sound of rain was actually my self that has been separated by time and space, and it was telling everything about my past.

I was hesitant and asked myself: Who am I? Am I still the same person I was before? There is a poem that goes: "The young man is listening to the rain song upstairs, and the tent is dark with red candles. The mature man is listening to the rain in the boat, the river is wide and the clouds are low, and the broken geese are calling the west wind."

Different life circumstances lead to different feelings about listening to the rain. However, listening to the rain is all about listening to the conversation of souls, listening to the rush of true love, and listening to the gurgling flow of time.

What the sound of rain hits is not only the echo of the years, but also the regrets of the past and the melancholy that cannot be said. It seems that only in the gentle sound of rain on this tiled house can the soul breathe and life can continue.

The sound of rain is still ringing, like my real heartbeat. .. 2. Composition The Story of a Rainy Day

[Composition The Story of a Rainy Day] A heavy rain started without warning. I took the classroom trash can and ran in the empty campus to write the composition The Story of a Rainy Day.

He rushed into the classroom and shook the water out of his hair. Huh, luckily I didn't get soaked too badly.

Arrange the things in the hygiene corner, take out an umbrella from your schoolbag, walk out of the classroom and lock the door. I looked at my watch, it was 6:10, quite late.

I rolled up my trousers and was about to walk into the rain curtain when a voice stopped me. "Classmate! Classmate, please wait a moment!" Xun Xun shouted, and a tall boy was running towards me, "Classmate! Can I be a junior with you? The rain is really too heavy, I have to rush back..." I looked at the boy in front of me. He was tall and quite handsome, oh! He is the student union president! Yes, yes! When I was about to say something, suddenly, the usual teachings of teachers and parents about not falling in love prematurely came to mind.

Even if we don’t mean it, how should we explain it if we are caught by others? I swallowed what I was going to say, adjusted my glasses, and looked at the rain. It wouldn't stop for a while. There are few people in the school now, so I won't be seen? So I reluctantly shared an umbrella with the president. Along the way, the president was talking, trying to ease the awkward atmosphere, but I just kept answering him with "um", "really" and "oh". Grade composition "Composition on a Rainy Day". Finally, both of them stopped talking.

In fact, it’s not that I don’t want to chat with the president, I’m just afraid of being discovered. It doesn't matter if no one sees it, but if someone sees it, the consequences will definitely be disastrous.

Sometimes, rumors are scarier than the flu. We just walked on without saying a word.

When I walked to a small street, I saw a red motorcycle whizzing past, knocking down the grandma who thought she was holding an umbrella. Looking at the shadow of the motorcycle flying away, I really scolded him.

Just when I was about to go up and help the old lady up, the president stopped me: "Don't move, just pretend we didn't see it." I looked at him in confusion, how could he not see it? "Are we going to let this old man just stay in the rain?" "Then do you want to be misunderstood?" The president shouted with red eyes. This was not a question, but an exclamation.

Misunderstanding? Yes, it is also a scene like this. In the end, who is kind and who suffers the consequences. Thinking of this, I gave up.

Looking at the passers-by around him, one brother had such a nonchalant expression on his face, as if he wanted to leave this place of right and wrong as quickly as possible. Looking at the figure of the old woman slumped in the rain, I couldn't do anything else except pray.

People sometimes have no choice but to do things. Just as I was reluctant to hold an umbrella with a boy due to pressure from adults, just as the president was forced to prevent me from helping an old man due to pressure from a grand event. Adults say it’s time for you to grow up and be sensible.

But what should we know? Should we understand that there is nothing we can do to help, or should we do nothing to help? Is this what society teaches us and gives us a rite of passage? The rain is still falling, but I don't feel the cold, because what is colder than my body is my heart that is drenched in coldness. 3. Rain Story Composition

It’s raining.

The rain carried the dreams and scattered them, wetting the fragrant little pot of mint in front of my window sill. I heard the hazy sound of rain coming, like a silver bell-like laughter.

Suddenly I remembered that when I was very young, a kind friend told me that rain is the story brought by the sky, and the rustling is their narration. So I walked out in a fairy tale and walked in the rain so that I could listen to their voices.

The cheerful rain always expresses their feelings very smoothly. The rhythmic drumbeats, the diffuse mist, and the flying unlimited ***. They rush to be the first and devote themselves to this huge feast with excitement and selflessness. , crazily splendid, flamboyant, flying and blooming in this world. The dripping rhythm of shala, shala, shala, in harmony with the blue sky, the vast land, this never-ending, never-ending, vigorous and intensifying rain, they seem to be shouting, sighing, cheering - they It is the purity of white and blue, and the tranquility of harmony with all things.

Reject all scruples and worries to attend this banquet of smiles and relaxation. I can really hear their lingering and gentle whispers, which bring about the pure and lovely dreams in the glass flowers in the sky, and the floating beauty is all due to the pain when they shed tears! The sky after the rain was wiped to a dazzling blue.

Yu is lying on the tips of leaves and in small puddles, immersed in the smile that has not been lost. The puddles are proof that they have been here. The short water stain on the window, the transparent, magnified world, has traces of swaying, optimism and fearlessness! The rain is the eyes of the sky, shining with the charm of nature. Their free flow makes me hear the softest voice in the world.

Their story is a secret. When they washed away this obscure world, penetrated their souls and essence into this world, and nourished this world, when the cool mist faded away from this world, they retreated peacefully, leaving behind a sun that was thousands of miles away. , flowing light wantonly, sweet and soft grand majestic brilliant world.

Their stories have been heard. In this crystal clear, ethereal and beautiful world, my pot of fresh mint is smiling in the azure blue. 4. How to write the composition of The Story of a Rainy Day

The Story of a Rainy Day Finally, the fashionable girl couldn't bear it anymore, turned to another girl and asked, "Are you waiting for daddy too?" The other girl nodded shyly Said: "Well, dad is true. He promised to take me to the bookstore today, but he hasn't come so late. I'm so anxious."

The fashionable girl looked at the sky, sighed and said: " God is so unkind, the rain is so heavy, it seems I can’t count on my dad to take me shopping for clothes today.” The rain kept falling, like an endless picture.

Under the eaves of the school gate, there were two girls taking shelter from the rain. Neither of them spoke, they just listened to the sound of rain quietly. Finally, the fashionable girl couldn't stand it any longer, and turned to the other girl and asked, "Are you waiting for daddy too?" The other girl nodded shyly and said, "Yes, daddy really did. He agreed to take me to the bookstore today. It’s so late and I’m so anxious.”

The fashionable girl looked at the sky, sighed and said, “God is so unkind, the rain is so heavy, I can’t count on my dad to take me with me today. I'm going shopping for clothes." Seeing no response, the fashionable girl stopped talking.

"Gah" a red BMW parked under the eaves. The fashionable girl opened the car door excitedly, and a smell of alcohol hit the sky. The fashionable girl quickly covered her nose and frowned. "Dad, why are you so late? I'm so anxious to wait."

"We have a meeting today, so..." "What a meeting, I went to drink again." The fashionable girl got in the car and followed " Bang! "With a sound, the car disappeared.

There was only one other girl left at the school gate, standing quietly. A few raindrops fell on the girl's cheeks.

"Tong Tong Tong!" A man walked not far away, holding an old umbrella that no longer had a handle, holding a book in his hand, and his cloth shoes were already damp. "Dad, it's raining so hard, why did you go buy me a book?" The girl stepped forward regardless of the rain.

The rain is still pouring down. 5. Story in the Rain Composition

Story in the Rain Rain is lingering and desolate, refreshing and comfortable; when the heavy rain falls all night, many flowers and plants hang down their waists and sigh; when the rain comes, the land is fertile and the people are happy; when it rains lightly, , infinite sadness, entrusted with countless melancholy.

Spring rain is always late. All things hope to sprout new buds and sprout twigs, but a spring rain is far away. When longing for it, they sway around with the wind, looking forward to her nourishment.

But she always heard too many expectations, so she rushed there. The dry frozen soil was moisturized, and there was a soft smell of grass, and spring was here. As the saying goes, "The light rain on the sky street is as moist as crisp, and the color of grass looks far away but not up close."

It's so comfortable. Showers are occasionally lingering.

The end of longing, the midsummer of cicadas chirping. The sultry weather makes people feel disgusted, and they always think of some showers at this time.

At night, a cup of tea and a basket of green dates fill your mouth with fragrance. Leave some sweet dreams for later, enjoy the reflection of the street lights in the water, flickering, on and off, accompanied by the smell of tea in your mouth and the oncoming wind, sleep quietly and forget about trivial matters.

It is the lingering feeling of "Last night the rain and the wind were strong, and the heavy sleep could not eliminate the remaining wine."

The combination of fog and rain is perfect. Last summer, I was lucky enough to go boating on the West Lake in Hangzhou. It rained a little and my thin clothes got soaked.

Looking up, the mountains and rivers are beautiful and vague. I can smell the mist like white gauze coming towards my face. The tip of my nose feels cold and I sneeze, caressing the mixture of rain and mist, like a dream. It's not a dream either. The landscape is so fascinating that it's still unforgettable. It's like the dream that "it's beautiful when the water is shining, but it's sunny, and when the mountains are empty and it's raining, it's strange."

The light rain is melancholy, the soft drizzle, dripping, making me sad and having nowhere to express it. Walking on the street, I wonder whether it is better to hold an umbrella or not.

If you hold an umbrella, you think it is unnecessary; if you don’t hold an umbrella, it will add to the coolness. Asking how long the road is, and asking where the end of the world is; it is better to walk down and listen to the rhythm of "noisy and jumbled bullets, big and small beads falling on jade plates".

Various rains, beautiful rains. You always entrust my most sensitive emotions. I hope that in my dreams, you can bring me a long-lasting good dream. It is a story in the rain... It seems that this is the best writing. 6. Please write an essay about rain in the first grade of junior high school.

Rain is weak, the lightest thing in the world. It cannot knock on the heavy reinforced concrete building. But the tile house is different, the raindrops On the top, the tinkling sound immediately makes a pleasant sound. People in the hut have the blessing of being close to nature in the rain. When the rain falls rapidly, the sound becomes loud and exciting, like a hundred horses roaring in unison or ten thousand horses galloping. The force of the rain It slows down and the sound becomes weaker, gently penetrating your heart, like the breeze in your ears in the warm spring. The tiles seem to be specially designed for the rain. They play their due diligence, and the hearts of those who listen to the rain will be filled with endless emotions. People like to sit quietly and listen to the rain when their hearts are full of nostalgia and lamentation. The old man with lofty ideals has the ambition of "lying down at night listening to the wind and rain, and dreaming of the iron horse glaciers"; the late beauty has the ambition of "in the rain" The resentment of the yellow leaf tree, the white-headed man under the lamp; the lovesick lover has the nostalgia of "the sycamore tree is drizzling, and at dusk, bit by bit"; the passionate poet has the feeling of "listening to the spring rain in the small building all night, selling apricot blossoms in the deep alley in the Ming Dynasty" "The reverie. Rain has become a messenger for people to modify their feelings and express their wishes. In my spare time, I was fortunate enough to return to the place where I once listened to the rain. It happened to be a light rain that day, and I heard the familiar yet unfamiliar sound of rain again. In the mist, , there is a strange mood in the sound of the rain, the kind that I have not communicated with for a long time. It rejects me thousands of miles away, showing me that it is unfamiliar to me, but I can feel its presence from the deepest part of my consciousness. I feel the joy of waking up from a dream and the sense of vicissitudes after being confused. Oh, what I meet in the sound of rain is actually my self that has been separated by time and space. It is telling everything about my past. I am wandering, I asked myself: Who am I? Am I still the same person I was before? There is a poem that goes like this: "A young man listens to the rain song upstairs, under the dim tent with red candles. A mature man listens to the rain in the boat, the river is wide and the clouds are low, and the broken geese call to the west wind." Different life situations lead to different feelings of listening to the rain. However, listening to the rain But they are all listening to the dialogue of souls, the rush of true love, and the gurgling flow of time. What is struck by the sound of rain, in addition to the echoes of the years, is also the regret of the past and the melancholy that cannot be said. It seems that only in In the gentle sound of rain in this tiled house, the soul can breathe and life can continue. The sound of rain is still ringing, like my real heartbeat... When it rains, I stretch my hand out of the window and touch the rain. Heartbeat. A burst of refreshing coolness immediately purified all the thoughts in the mind. The rainman slid down the invisible slide in the sky and fell to the ground, suddenly splashing with crystal clear water. How happy they were! I looked at all this happily, as if I had joined their team. We danced together and water flowers bloomed on the ground. A faint fragrance came from the distance, which made me return to basics and penetrate deeply into my soul. The rain suddenly stopped, and I was shocked - the rain man disappeared, the water splash disappeared, the singing and laughter disappeared, everything disappeared, I returned to the real world, I was still me , a child with bones and flesh, is no longer the crystal clear rainman just now. Everything just now seems like a wonderful dream that is still unfinished. Oh, the rain will fall again, and the rainman will fall from the sky again.

7. A 400-word essay about rain About rain

Rain_Rain in the morning_A 400-word essay about rain In the morning, I was still stretching in bed, and there was a vague "pattering" from the window. I thought it must be raining. Sure enough, there were soft raindrops floating outside the window, like cow hair, like flower needles, drizzle like silk, crisscrossing into "gauze". The raindrops floated to the roof, trees, On the ground, the dust that had accumulated over the years was washed away, as well as the worries that had accumulated in my heart. Pearl-like raindrops rolled on the petals, as if they were jewelry given to them by Miss Yu. The raindrops crackled on the ground. The windows seemed to be dotted with crystal "pearls". On the road, people hurried home with colorful umbrellas, and the passing vehicles splashed water, making pedestrians wet. In the yard, The little flowers and grass stood upright and struggled in the wind and rain. The big iron tree stood upright, as if to say: "Look! I am so powerful, not as fragile as you!" The children walked outside and looked at the raindrops. , and tasted the raindrops from time to time. One innocent and lovely child said: "Ah! The raindrops here are so sweet." After a while, many children came to taste it, but the child ran away. It turned out that he Playing with children! The rain is getting heavier and the wind is getting stronger! Rain, when will you stop? Watching the rain in the middle of the night, the dark night sky seems to have been prepared for a long time. The summer rain that has been brewing for a long time has arrived belatedly. The tiny raindrops fall from the sky without any rhythm, swaying with the wind. They are uneven and discontinuous, one after another, gradually, I heard its melody, which seemed to be its sigh. In an instant, it was so urgent, so urgent. It came together with the sound of wind. I don’t know whether the wind was too strong or the rain was too fast. The wind and rain always cooperated so well. The clothes are seamless. "The rain is about to come and the wind is all over the building." The raindrops are coming with the wind, which is overwhelming. Feel the roar of the storm and listen to its indignant and sad voice. The big raindrops fall from the sky and hit the windows, making a crisp sound. Sound. In the dark, I feel it is mourning. Is it crying for the night, or shouting for the dawn? I don’t know. Since then, the wind has become cool and soft, and the rain has shed its last grace. The melody is so beautiful, the rhythm is so graceful, slow and orderly, adding color to the quiet night. The rain comes in the wind, Gone with the wind, pattering, intermittently, leaving with a trace of nostalgia. Leaving footprints for the wind, deep and shallow... The wind stopped, and the rain also drew the curtain intermittently, as if for this reckless Actions make up for something. The wind comes and goes without a trace, and the rain always ripples with the wind, adding footprints to the wind's rapid pace. What a quick rain! , at this time, the eyes were moist, the freshness and clarity had washed away the dust, and the wind swept away everything that should not have come. Occasionally, a few sounds of rain could be heard under the eaves, and everything returned to calm and tranquility. The dark night sky and the dark rain ...... Midnight Rain Appreciation by Wang Ting As the months go by, the weather becomes colder. Tonight, it begins to rain. It falls from the high night sky. When it falls to the ground, it makes a crisp sound of water droplets; it flies to the On the window, press your body against the glass and stretch it very long. It is looking at you! It is greeting you with greetings! Suddenly, a wave of heat rushed to my heart, and an inexplicable impulse jumped into my mind. I thought about it so much, ran out the door, opened my arms, and embraced this messenger of nature. It left, came and went in a hurry. , brought warmth and wiped away the frustration. It came again, this time, what did it bring? Let me feel it more carefully! It flowed on my hair and face, and slowly slid to the ground, splashing a beautiful crystal flower. I know, I understand. This time, it brought me the vitality of life and brought me the vitality of life. Infinite hope comes. Instructor: Fang Jian was watching the rain in the middle of the night. Hao Qian was watching the rain outside the window. The rain was pattering underground, forming a beautiful ink painting like smoke and fog. The raindrops were neither as soft as cow hair nor as flowery. The needle is so hard, and it seems to fall not on the ground, but in my heart. In the autumn night, the lights are dimming and the drizzle is lingering. What a feeling of helplessness and loneliness. I sit Listening to the breath of rain in front of the window is a kind of enjoyment - an unparalleled, joyful, peaceful, and natural beauty enjoyment for the soul. Listening to the gentleness of the rain, the depth of the rain, the whisper of the rain, and the roar of the rain, Listen to the smile of the rain, listen to the singing, shouting and roaring of the rain. Rain is the spirit of nature. It is as sentimental as human beings. I love the murmur of spring rain, the enthusiasm of summer rain, the sorrow and sadness of autumn rain, love The elegant and noble winter rain. Listening to the rain, the rain is like a flower whispering to the ground, conveying a kind of longing, a blessing, a comfort, a ray of warmth. It is a sacred fire, opening the door of my dusty and silent heart. ..

8. Write an essay based on rain and ask to write down stories, scenes, and characters in the rain

1. Listen to the rain in the 480 Temple in the Southern Dynasties, and how many towers are in the mist and rain. - Du Mu I like to be alone in the rain. Listen to the sound of drizzle at night, rain is the spirit of nature, I think. Turn on the desk lamp, the yellow light sprinkles a piece of warmth, soak in a cup of fragrant tea, taste it carefully, and listen quietly... Open the window, the fresh soil The fragrance floats in with the sound of pattering rain. Oh, I can only feel the indescribable and indescribable comfort. I want three parts of Yi An's grace, three parts of Dongpo's boldness, three parts of Qi Qing's indifference, a paragraph Nalan's mood was very comfortable and she listened to the sound of natural rain. The spring rain was small and warm, she was fresh but not charming, small but powerful, she always spoke carefully and told the remoteness of spring. Warm. Xia Yu's boldness makes people happy. She is like a shocking masterpiece. She suddenly flows from mountains and rivers, sometimes cascading thousands of miles away, sometimes worshiping mountains and sucking soil, and suddenly the sea swallows water, making people feel happy. Autumn Yu's sadness and resentment make people love and pity her. She suddenly Singing softly, sometimes like flowing clouds and flowing water, and sometimes wanting to say goodbye. Dong Yu is no longer reserved, but her demeanor is dignified, graceful and elegant. Listening to the sound of rain in the four seasons, she can't help but feel the mirror flowers, water moon, and vicissitudes of life. Rain has spirituality, and she seems to follow it. It is so pleasant that "it sneaks into the night with the wind, moistening things silently". The rain is also gentle, but there is no "apricot blossom rain that makes your clothes wet, and the willow wind blows on your face without chilling". The rain is still charming, "the light rain on the street is as moist as crisp, The color of the grass looks far away but is not there." Whenever the winter or summer changes, I always feel that the world is dangerous and the world is rolling in the world, so I yearn for the "green bamboo hat, green coir raincoat, the slanting wind and drizzle that don't have to return." The tea in the cup is gone. , unwilling to pour another cup. Miaoyu once said: "One cup is a taste, two cups will become a thirst-quenching fool." Wind belongs to fierceness, rain belongs to intelligence. Wind belongs to art, and rain is almost philosophical. I like to be alone. Listening to the sound of rain at night, listening to the melody of nature, "Once upon a time, the sea was difficult to make water, except Wushan, it was not clouds." She kept my thoughts going, and these thoughts were like a white cloud, floating over my soul, making it quiet and lofty. Mortal A little more sophistication means a little more wit, and a little more wit means a little less elegance. I would rather be a little less witty and a little more elegance. I am obsessed with the elegance of taking refuge in nature. In the quiet of the night, I turn on the light and listen to the rain, and I feel understanding. Unexpectedly, I smiled. I also wrote an article about the death of a relative in an autumn rain. You can use this to express your dislike for the autumn rain. 2. Spring; good rain knows the season, and when spring comes, summer will happen; "Haiyan" Thunder rumbles The waves screamed in the angry droplets, roaring with the strong wind. Look, the strong wind tightly picked up the layers of huge waves, violently threw them to the cliff, and smashed these large pieces of jade into dust and debris. .======Let the storm come more violently! Autumn: After the new rain in the empty mountains, the weather comes late. Autumn and winter: Winter rains are rare. I only find this song when the plum blossoms are still blooming. It is like a rain. Children have no intention in nature. A single crane returns to China to protect itself. Crows gather in the forbidden forest at Linkou. .The state of matter changes at any time, and God does not care whether it is sunny or cloudy. I have pity for the cold northwest wind, and the snow is deep in Wanqitun. Ah, and this: the writing is very delicate, and there is a contrasting winter rain, falling from the sky, Mixed with ice droplets that look like snow but not snow, it hurts like a knife when it hits the face. Only this winter rain can make you scared and chill. I often sigh at the magic of nature's creation, and rain and snow will join hands. Let’s travel the world side by side! The weather of rain and snow sometimes makes people feel annoying, but it is said that they can cleanse the world of all kinds of filth. Although winter rain has never been praised as precious as oil as spring rain, it has no complaints and silently talks to people. , foretells: When I disappear, the white snowy sky is right in front of me. Winter rain, the last remnant left by the warm atmosphere, no longer has the heroic spirit of summer storms, nor the tenderness of autumn rain, only in I tried my best to create beauty in the world. I put on my cotton coat and tried to experience the taste of winter rain. Before I could recover, my whole body was covered with its affection. It gently The earth told me, don’t say I’m callous. Even though I’m in the wrong season, we are also sons of nature and friends who walk with you in this world. This world becomes quiet because of the presence of rain. Innocence. The quietly falling winter rain adds a bit of harmony and beauty to this ordinary world. I have dedicated everything to the freshness of this world without any regrets. 9. The Story of a Rainy Day Composition

Rain has been accompanying the night from the beginning. It falls pattering down, casting a mysterious and beautiful veil over the night. I closed my eyes and listened to the rain quietly, and I felt its beauty strongly. Sometimes it is like a group of energetic children, fragmented and dense; sometimes it is like a flock of birds singing and elk leaping; sometimes it is like drums, waves, forest sea, and sea rushing; sometimes... a loud muffled thunder quickly passes through this rhythmic The symphony carried its deep and powerful sound far, far away... After the thunder passed, continue listening to the symphony. It seems to have changed its mood again, becoming the rustling sound of rain hitting the leaves; the tinkling sound of falling into the river, and the snapping sound of falling on the roof...

The insensitive sounds such as "bang bang" and "whistle" formed an unknown march. After a while, the sound of rain turned into a feeble ticking sound. Listening to this rhythmless and irregular ticking sound, a kind of sadness came to my heart. This rain nourished my heart and wet my eyes. An unknown feeling enveloped me. I clearly felt like I was blown away by it. I suddenly associated the rain with the life course of a person.

When he was a child, he was so weak, but full of fantasy. Then he gradually grew up and did a great and vigorous career. Then, when he got old, he heard the sound of "beep——" on the heart rate machine. His life and soul quietly left his body. He ended his short life quietly.

When I was a child, I lived under a tiled house. Whenever it rained, I could hear the sad and sad sound of rain. When I grow up, I live in a reinforced concrete forest without the sound of rain. It seems that life lacks a lot of aura, the softest and weakest things that can move people, and my heart is slowly deserting.

So I missed the sound of rain in the tiled house.

Rain is weak, the lightest thing in the world, and cannot knock the heavy reinforced concrete building. The tiled house is different. Raindrops tinkling on it and immediately make a pleasant sound. People in the hut have the blessing of being close to nature in the rain. When the rain falls rapidly, the sound becomes impassioned, like a hundred horses roaring in unison or ten thousand horses galloping. The rain slows down and the sound becomes weaker. It penetrates your heart gently, like the breeze in your ears in the warm spring. The tiles seem to be specially designed for the rain. They play their due diligence, and the hearts of those who listen to the rain are overflowing. Endless affection.

People like to sit quietly and listen to the rain when their hearts are full of nostalgia and sighing. The old man with lofty ideals has the ambition of "lying down at night listening to the wind and rain, and the iron horse glaciers coming to sleep"; the late beauty has the resentment of "the yellow-leafed tree in the rain, the white-headed man under the lamp"; the lovesick lover has the ambition of "the parasol tree is also drizzling, and at dusk ", bit by bit"; the sentimental poet has the reverie of "listening to the spring rain in the small building all night, selling apricot flowers in the deep alley in the Ming Dynasty".

Rain has become a messenger for people to modify their feelings and express their wishes.

In my spare time, I was fortunate enough to return to the place where I once listened to the rain. It happened to be a light rain that day, and I heard the familiar yet unfamiliar sound of rain again. In the mist, there was a strange mood in the sound of rain, the kind that we had not communicated with for a long time. It is thousands of miles away from me, showing me that it is unfamiliar to me, but I can feel the breath of its existence from the deepest part of my consciousness. I felt the joy of waking up from a dream and the sense of vicissitudes after being confused.

Oh, what I met in the sound of rain was actually my self that has been separated by time and space, and it was telling everything about my past. I was hesitant and asked myself: Who am I? Am I still the same person I was before?

There is a poem: "The young man is listening to the rain song upstairs, and the tent is dark with red candles. The mature man is listening to the rain in the boat, the river is wide and the clouds are low, and the broken geese are calling the west wind." Different life circumstances lead to different feelings about listening to the rain. However, listening to the rain is all about listening to the conversation of souls, listening to the rush of true love, and listening to the gurgling flow of time. What the sound of rain hits, apart from the echoes of the years, is also the unbearable regrets of the past and the melancholy that cannot be expressed. It seems that only in the gentle sound of rain on this tiled house can the soul breathe and life can continue.

The sound of rain is still ringing, like my real heartbeat...