Listen to the Rain Composition

Listening to the Rain Composition Part 1

In midsummer, the weather is like a child's face, changing at a moment's notice. The sun was shining brightly just now, but suddenly, the rumbling thunder was deafening, and the sky and the earth immediately became a vast ocean. Just when people gathered under the eaves, panicking, the downpour stopped suddenly, like a naughty child, getting angry and happy again. This is the rain in summer, which is unpredictable.

The weather was sunny just now. Suddenly, the clouds were thick, as if a violent storm was about to begin. A bolt of lightning flashed across the dark sky, bringing a glimmer of light. Father Lei did not show any weakness, and made a rumble of thunder, which seemed to deafen people's ears. The wind whistled - the ground blew the saplings, and the saplings were broken by the wind. The crunching sound was so dry and harsh. Listening to the Rain Composition Part 2

My alma mater is Lianyuan Street Primary School in Wuxi City. It is a garden school. On campus, various activities will be held and all kinds of new things will happen. What haunts me most is Ting Yu on campus. She is quite interesting and makes me unforgettable.

Look, it’s raining again. On campus, the rain is full of passion and poetry. She contains rich emotions, sometimes dripping, like a girl from the south of the Yangtze River reciting poetry; sometimes passionate and rough, like a Shandong man beating a drum; sometimes hesitating, sometimes stopping, like a lady mourning autumn; sometimes with cold wind and cold rain, raging and crazy, and again It was as if an aunt who had lost a loved one was howling...

That time, it was a midsummer afternoon, and the students were all quietly doing self-study homework in the classroom. Gradually, the sky became gray, maybe because of the light, many students turned their eyes to the window, and even their thoughts flew away, and they no longer had the intention to do their homework. The strong wind blew the leaves, making a rustling sound, like a poet reciting a very personal poem with a hoarse voice. The violent thunder roared, making a trembling sound, and it seemed like a skilled performer beating the big drum. All the preludes have ended and the music has begun to climax. The rain started to fall, and with the thunder and the strong wind, the rain became heavier and heavier. The big raindrops hit the windowsill and the glass, and the crisp sound of tick, tick, tick came to my ears. It touched my heart. Fascinated by the ever-changing sound of rain, I even forgot I existed.

The self-study class is finally over, and the song is gradually coming to an end. I walked out of the classroom and stood quietly in the corridor, listening to the rain falling on the small flowerbed, just like listening to the beautiful music of musicians. There is no accompaniment of thunder, no brave blowing of the storm. The sound is so elegant. The ticking and ticking sound is as subtle and light as a dream. It falls on the leaves and in the pool, causing ripples in circles, making people feel like they are in another wonderful realm.

Listening to the rain on campus is so interesting! Listening to the Rain Composition Part 3

The sound of rain outside the window keeps coming, singing like a song; delicate as a poem; like flowing clouds and flowing water, giving people an extremely refreshing feeling. Do you seem to remember something?

On the afternoon of the weekend, I was holding a volume of essays and was about to read a little. There was a wind in my ears, which stirred the pages of the book and turned them. Wherever the wind passed, I was faced with dampness and freshness to my nose. There seemed to be a slight gust of wind. The pattering of rain on the window was so delicate that it was almost unnoticeable, but it touched some of my nerves. I couldn't help but walk in front of the window and looked out. The window was already blurry, and the continuous rain was like a thin thread, weaving into a web between the sky and the earth. The net, the net is misty and unreal, as misty as intoxication. When people from far away look here, the small building will be enveloped in this fine and lingering net. With dripping mountains and rivers and small buildings standing there, don’t Chinese ink paintings always like to copy this scene?

At night, I was lying in bed with my eyes closed. The sound of rain outside the window was thick, rustling, hitting the branches, the eaves, and the bluestone floor of the courtyard of the small building. The sound of rain in the afternoon is like light music, subtle and vivid. The sound of rain at this moment is like a musical score, gentle and smooth. There is a low whistle of wind, bringing a dense rain, and it is like the sound of pipa urging people to walk. The small building is a retro wooden structure, with black tiles and cornices, and wooden doors and windows. The raindrops hit the roof tiles, making a clanging sound. In ancient times, people also used blue tiles as musical instruments, and the tapping creates a unique charm. Rainwater gurgled down along the tile troughs and eaves. You can imagine that the small building is like a curtain of water, with countless small streams blowing down, like small waterfalls, and flowing into the rain drains under the eaves, like a small The moat is flowing gently, talking, laughing... The raindrops hit the window glass, making a tinkling sound, like dulcimer percussion, crisp and sweet, the raindrops hit the single wooden window lattice, making a dull thumping sound, Just like the beat of a snare drum, sometimes slow, sometimes fast... all the music is intertwined, like a symphony, dazzling, clanking, and the sound of rain falling like a song. Listening to the Rain Composition Part 4

Listening to the singing of the rain quietly, she brought the interesting things she saw, strung them together into a long song, and sang with a small voice. It shook my heart and condensed my blood. It turns out that sound is also a kind of power. Her arrival made many people depressed and many people excited. She just wanted to talk, just wanted to forget. Listen to the rain, it turns out you can be so happy. Even if I am bound, I am willing to be intoxicated like this.

A thin drizzle of rain fell over the city. On the noisy street, there are colorful umbrellas. Move slowly again. Rain, what you bring is really beautiful. Listening to the Rain Composition Part 5

I don’t know when it started raining outside the window, not heavy. Sitting in the classroom, I occasionally turned my head and looked out the window, looking through the thin rain curtain at the dark mountains opposite.

From time to time, a car would rush past the road next to the school, and there would always be a hissing sound when it ran over the wet road. The car flashed by, and the hissing sound gradually faded away. There was only a slight echo echoing in the silent night sky. Looking at the vehicles that are gradually disappearing, a nameless sense of loss and a touch of sadness will always arise in my heart. I don’t know if I’m pessimistic or sentimental, but little things always arouse my sensitive melancholy nerves.

Once upon a time, I stayed in front of the window looking at the rain outside the window for a long time because I couldn't get rid of my troubles. I watched the rain falling intermittently, watching it dripping on the water and hitting a string of notes; To let the beauty of the moment stay in my heart, I came into the rain and mist at ten o'clock in the morning, letting the rain sway on my body, and let the slight chill rush into my body; once upon a time, I was alone after the rain, looking at the vast forest sea, Let the greenery fill my eyes without reservation, let the fresh air after the rain and the fragrant earthy smell wrap around me... these few paintings will remain in my memory forever. The image and the everlasting tune.

When I was a child, I could not appreciate the novelty of rain, and there was nothing worth feeling sad about. Until one time when I was really sad, I couldn't escape the darkness, and the palace I built with my own hands instantly turned into a cage to imprison myself. I came alone to the forest after the rain, looking at the dazzling green leaves washed by the rain, sucking in the smell of soil and forest flowers and plants, seeing the new look of the forest after the rain, and hearing the crisp and clear voice after the rain. Birdsong, the crisp bird song made me wake up. I saw the insignificance of the world, saw through the hypocritical and fickle faces of people, and suddenly saw the mind that could accommodate hundreds of rivers, understood the novel scene after the rain, and understood the helplessness that once accompanied Si Zhu when it rained at night. Dusk fell quietly and everything was silent. I got up and went back, no longer sad. From then on, the crisp birdsong, the woods after the rain and the rain curtain became the place where my soul goes when I am lonely and sad.

Perhaps we are really destined to meet each other thousands of miles away. Whenever I feel sad, the rain will come to accompany me. Listening to the rain has become my favorite, because listening to the rain is a kind of enjoyment, and the taste is pleasant and natural; because listening to the rain can always make my sorrow disappear and make me happy.

Friend, do you also listen to the rain?