A model essay on the topic of being good at discovering the beauty of nature

"There is no shortage of beauty in life, what is lacking is the eyes that find beauty." With a pair of uncritical eyes and a quiet heart, I found out whether it was right or not.

In nature, the spring is full and the flowers and trees are beautiful. Although the grass is not as beautiful as the peony cuckoo, it is strong. It has experienced wind and rain, lightning and thunder. Some water is spectacular, others are as flat as a mirror. Some mountains are too steep, some are too noble, and some are too expensive. I'm not surprised at how beautiful it is. What makes me tremble? This is the beauty of nature.

You see, under the windowsill of the teacher's office, the teacher is still trying to correct the homework, and your family and relatives are still waiting for you to go back for dinner! That bottle after bottle of used ink bottle, that red pen after red pen. I don't know how much ink you have used up and how many pens you have worn out over the years. Teacher, you have worked hard! You have worked hard for another day, so don't give us any trouble! Ah, what a good teacher, what a touching scene!

Against the setting sun, the path is glowing with yellow light. I was walking on my way home when an old lady with gray hair accidentally fell down. A small classmate immediately stepped forward to help and helped the old man to the distance. Watching the old and young people gradually disappear, my heart suddenly became warm. What a wonderful moment, what a wonderful moment. The light in the corridor is still on. I know whose child this must be. How much more will you give me? Ah, dad, mom, I love you!

What is beauty in life? This is the beauty in life, a simple and ordinary thing.

I found the beauty in life!

The early morning mist filled the air, and the early morning breeze gently hit the sleepy face through the gap in the glass window. Kapok, which had slept all night, was blown away by the wind on the ridge of the field, gently feathered and lingering with willow leaves. At the end of the wide ocean, the lines of sunrise are outlined, and the rippling ripples reflect warm spots. The profound bell rang and dissipated among the rainy silk and bamboo in the south of the Yangtze River, and the quiet alleys were inlaid with mottled green slates. Dewdrops on the tile eaves tinkled slowly. The lasting light brightens the night and guides it to leave with that light. The distant mountains are no longer dignified and inaccessible after the light. The greedy breathing of swaying trees in the forest, the subtle sound like the song of robin in spring, awakened the flowers loaded with fairy tears. The memory of nature is quietly awakened by their voices, which is more vivid and vivid.

When the breeze rises, I inadvertently look up and meet a midday sun. It's not the scorching heat, but the unique clarity in summer. The sunshine has left a trace in your hair, and the white clouds in the clear sky have always been calm, as if nothing had changed. The wanton flowing wind is like a note shuttling among the green grass, drifting through the window lattice and bathing in the midsummer. Birds in the bushes spread their wings to chase the sun and draw intoxicating curves in the sky.

Rain is like a poem in the agile movement played by nature, mixed with the rhythm of waves lapping on the golden beach. Feifei ring, like an elf, passes through the world transparently, reflecting colorful brilliance. The natural appearance is carved on the rugged rock, and the white cat with black eyes jumps on the roof, facing the rain, and religiously accepts the most primitive natural baptism, as if all the agitation overflows with the drizzle.

The horizon has been dyed pale yellow, mixed with the red afterglow of the sunset, and slowly extends backward like a stream, and the distant Woods are gradually blurred and difficult to distinguish. The noisy world began to spit out the last residual temperature. The natural drama began to draw a curtain call slowly, and its footprint disappeared under the dim sky and was hidden in the vegetation. Night comes again, searching for traces of nature. The night wind blows away the accumulated fallen leaves, and starlight shines in it, reading the information left by the day.

Nature has disappeared silently, and I haven't had time to disturb the plains where the grass is growing and the warblers are flying, and the rugged and steep mountains. Those beautiful dreams are carried by the wings of fireflies and fly far away.