Essay on Rain Prose

Rain Prose 1 The most sensitive emotion in memory was once accompanied by heavy rain, which covered everything outside the window and cured the broken dream. The narrative of time is so inferior that it seems to stay in this century forever.

In the morning, I reached out and pressed the alarm clock, and then got up with some difficulty, letting the cold sunshine touch the cold heart, and my cheeks looked a little lost against the orange background.

Every moment in the wind, the rain outside the window comes uninvited.

It's raining hard.

The iron roof was hit by the falling raindrops, giving off the unique music of metal, but there was a sense of security, and everything outside the window was blurred in sight. Slowly, I walked to the hazel door, and then a quick noise broke the silence for a second.

Walking in the street, I once again remembered whether it was a mistake not to bring an umbrella, but I had arrived in the city center. The rain wet my skirt bit by bit, and the wind flowed through my fingers. I can't hear anyone whistling, only clear piano music is spinning in the air. They may not know or they may know. The dark gray sky still looks sunny.

After a long time.

The afternoon wind passed again. After half a century of nostalgia, I slowly raised my head and his shadow gradually emerged in front of my eyes.

Is that you? Is that you?

Rain Essay 2 had this notice on the school radio last night. After lunch, it began to get dark, and gray clouds began to follow, as if the sky were falling.

The white shirt is pressing my back, my long hair is messy, and I am struggling with the newspaper I just bought. I can hardly see a few keywords: w-inds. , Hong Kong. There were dark marks of copper coins in the newspaper, and I looked up-the rain really came.

It is known that it is raining heavily today. Why is it still so messy? Or is this the opportunity I've been waiting for?

I leaned my head back, and the cool liquid dripped from the scattered flowers, slid across my cheeks and crossed my neck, which was vaguely refreshing.

Do you know that?/You know what? Do you know that?/You know what? Actually, I was surprised when I looked up. That pink flower, falling from the sky, is still chic in the rain. To my surprise, it took me so many years to finally get its name, Bauhinia! If you remember, you can't help but turn your mouth upwards.

Bauhinia, what a beautiful name! Like a poem, no more, no less, just explaining the appearance of flowers. That's what we called it at first, pod flower, which lasted for more than ten years.

At that time, the school in the village, even the teaching building was tilted, and so many bauhinia flowers were planted. The school is full of bright pink flowers, and swaying pods can be seen faintly between clusters of bouquets and overlapping leaves. It was raining at that time-just like now, everyone is away, but you are holding my hand and dancing briskly. How far is it from here to there?

At that time, when we were young, you liked to call me a boy, rub my hair just up to my neck with your little hand, dig out colorful rainbow candy in my dirty red schoolbag, and hand me messy notes in class. At that time, we were also stupid. In order to prevent the birds from being trapped by the heavy rain, we spent two days building a shed with stones and fences in my yard, only to find that it was full of bedbugs and eight-legged animals the next day.

It is raining harder and harder. If you are here, you will see the rain sticking to my temples along my hair, and my eyelashes are covered with a thin layer of water. But you can't see it.

We went to the same junior high school. At that time, you had beautiful black hair, neatly tied with beautiful butterflies, and boys were whispering everywhere. However, this letter seems to have lost its way. How did it get to me? Simple five words, I don't know what it means to you.

You try not to show anything, even follow a large group of people, but I still see your red eyes when you come out of the toilet. I told you I'm sorry. I'm sorry you held my hand and asked me what I was sorry for. I froze there and couldn't say anything. You said with a smile, it's just a feeling of ignorance, not like this. I nodded and threw the letter in the past.

I wonder if there are bauhinia flowers there. If a gust of wind blows, will the petals fall on your side? Will you stop and have a look and remember the beginning?

A few weeks before the middle school entrance examination, we went to the small house where we played as children. I am busy writing the topic, but you have chosen to give up. The small wooden door was gently pushed open, and I knew you must have crept in. If you know that I found you, you will be disappointed, right? So I pretended to be immersed in the ocean of problems, but I couldn't help glancing at you after all. You are like a kitten hunched over and moving slowly. You have a white pottery cup in your hand. With a look of joy and pride, you gently put the cup on the corner of the table. A faint scent of tea suddenly overflowed. I looked up and smiled and reached for it.

No, don't drink yet. It's too hot. Calm down.

You patted my hand off gently.

But what about you? Are your hands red?

Boy, you have to get good grades in the exam. I am hopeless. And you are not like me. You said lazily, with a self-deprecating tone.

I look at you, what big eyes, inclined and transparent, like a baby. Why? Why should I study hard instead of studying hard? You know I'm also a rebel and a free man. You did what I always wanted to do but didn't dare to do, so you have been wary of me going your way. You know your road is not easy, and you don't want me to take any risks, do you?

One day after the senior high school entrance examination, you left and went to a place that was not too far but I couldn't reach it. You said you wanted to leave long ago, but you were afraid it would affect me, so you waited until today.

I didn't see you off. Actually, I don't know when you left. It seems that all of a sudden, you are far away. Just like I used to think that bauhinia could bloom for a long time, I didn't expect it to wither after a weekend. You just left anyway. It seems that this fact can never be changed, nor can it be changed.

Four years have passed and I haven't heard from you. I thought I forgot about you, too. Until the college entrance examination ended last year, I found this campus full of bauhinia as soon as I opened the school website. I believe in such a thing as fate.

Just like w-inds in ageha: The Summer of Chasing Butterflies/We made an appointment/Although we separated/Yes/We are still good friends.

Maybe we won't meet again, but maybe you remember.

The rain has begun to decrease, and the frequency can be recognized slowly. I think I should go, continue to go downhill to Kirin, try to walk with others under an umbrella, and occasionally stop to look at the pink bauhinia, sigh or feel sad.

Heavy rain prose essay 3 An overwhelming heavy rain made me flustered.

I saw the dark sky, and the rain was pouring from the sky to the ground, probably because the drunk poured water into the bucket unscrupulously. Raindrops as big as beans, pouring down, unbridled, fell to the ground. You push me and push me, and I don't know what to do. After a while, this area is full of rain. Cars flew by and flowers flew all over the sky, which surprised pedestrians on the roadside. People are drenched by rain, and raindrops keep falling down their cheeks; The umbrella-bearer held the handle tightly, and the rain hit the umbrella heavily, making a snapping sound. Just for an instant, the trouser legs were wet, and then, the trouser legs were wet. There are also patient pedestrians hiding under the porch of the store, helplessly looking at the unexpected rain, hoping that the rain will stop soon. And the man without a poncho, riding a bike in the heavy rain.

It was a heavy rain in June. I took an umbrella to pick up my daughter who came home from school. I heard the little boy in Tonglian shouting, "No matter how hard it rains, I will be happy!" " "Naive children can't understand my heart. I urged my daughter to go home quickly, for fear that the rain would wet her clothes and that she would get sick. I still miss my days in bask in the quilt. If I get caught in the rain, I have to dry it for several days.

Since when am I afraid of heavy rain?

What impressed me the most was the heavy rain at the age of fifteen.

That day, the senior high school entrance examination was over, and I rode my bike home. The school is seven or eight miles away from my home. A strong wind suddenly blew, and the weather changed in June. The next moment the heavy rain hits, my worn-out bike always falls off the chain, and the heavy rain drenches me mercilessly. The muddy ground is a dirt road in the country. It is especially difficult for bicycles to travel in such mud. I rushed forward with all my strength, shouting in my heart, "Let the heavy rain come more violently, and I am not afraid of the heavy rain!" " Consider it a special birthday present from God. "Yes, on my birthday, I hurried home to eat my mother's sugar boiled eggs. That's my birthday present every year! That kind of heavy rain aroused my whole body's heroism, and the experience of riding a bike without fear in the rain was unforgettable.

More than 20 years have passed, and that heavy rain, like a black-and-white movie, will remain in my memory forever. /kloc-the pure enthusiasm of a girl aged 0/5!

Looking at the heavy rain, I was in a panic.

Whenever it rains heavily, I have to worry about my house, because on the first floor, the heavy rain washes the balcony, the drainage is not smooth, and the rain pours into my house, leaving a wet ground. And the community I live in is actually a famous garden community in China! God knows how many old houses can't stand the test of such a heavy rain. I can't help but think of Du Fu, who is full of melancholy: "An De Wan Lou, all the poor people in the world are happy, and the wind and rain are calm?"

This kind of rainstorm, some places have low terrain, poor drainage, and the road surface water is as high as 50 cm. I've seen people roll up their trouser legs in narrow alleys and paddle carefully. Cars float on the water and go on strike. There are long queues of vehicles. Isn't such a heavy rain a great test for municipal facilities?

The relentless rain reminds me of my worry: hasn't the rice just planted by my parents been capped yet? It is said that rice turns white after soaking for three or five days without capping. My parents didn't sleep well in the storm. Are Hunan, Guizhou, Xincheng County, Guangxi, Beigeng Township and northern Thailand flooded again?

Affectionate literati said:

Rain is tears.

Rain is a lover's tear.

Rain is a woman's tear.

Close the doors and windows and look out of the window on rainy days. I wish the rain would stop, stop!

Will it be sunny tomorrow?

The weather suddenly became gloomy at noon that day.

Sudden heavy rain

Sudden heavy rain

What is our little Bao classmate doing in this weather?

Sudden heavy rain

Ha ha. Fell asleep.

It rained for a while, and then it was dawn.

Sudden heavy rain

What is our little treasure doing at the moment?

Sudden heavy rain

Therefore, Bao Xiao didn't know it was raining!

I only know how to sit up straight and pose.

Sudden heavy rain

Bao Xiao's gloves ~

Sudden heavy rain

A bear that you can see with your eyes open ~

Sudden heavy rain

Bao Xiao smiled and said, Oh, Mom, this is really a happy day ~

Heavy Rain Essay 5 Sudden heavy rain, you are trapped under the eaves of the city. It rained heavily, mixed with lightning and thunder. In the crowd, you were scared by the deafening thunder, covered your ears with your hands and huddled in the corner, but everyone looked at you with a strange smile. At this moment, I suddenly found that no one can listen to you about the predicament at the moment, and no one can send you an umbrella in the rain. It turns out that this is really a person.

I knew that no one had sent an umbrella, so I had to run back in the rain. It turns out that the so-called growth is to taste the bitterness of reality and the faint pain in my heart again and again. Growth is painful, this sentence is melodramatic, but it is true. Only by experiencing pain, pulling open the surface layer covered with reality, engraved with flowers and full moon, and seeing the decay and ugliness inside, can we understand the truth of reality and the true meaning of life. No one is whose salvation. In reality, everyone is struggling. You can only see yourself. You can only experience your own. Others can't help you. Everyone is lonely.

I am grateful that at some point, I still have relatives and friends. Thank those true feelings.

It suddenly rained heavily and it was dark. Although it was a traffic jam, I was only 20 minutes late.

I don't want to do a lot of work. Thoughts are still floating in Provence, and June is the season when lavender is in full bloom.

The sky outside the window is darker, like the deepest and heaviest night. Such a day, such a rain, the weather forecast says it is small to moderate rain? ! I think, driving must flash rain to be called heavy rain?

The three-day Dragon Boat Festival is far from wonderful as expected, and there are too many objective factors, so we can only postpone the plan.

Looking forward to the next rainy day and the next trip!

At noon one day in midsummer, the sun is like a fireball with infinite energy, burning the earth crazily. The short willows on both sides of the river bank drooped their heads listlessly, unable to bear the heat of cicada singing, and were forced to hide in the treetops and moan hysterically.

Suddenly, a dark cloud came down from the west, and then, they kept spreading rapidly around. The sky was immediately enveloped by a huge monster, and suddenly it became dark, as if time suddenly accelerated and went straight to the evening, and it was once darker. The wind blew out of the corner of the mountain, and it grew louder and louder. After sporadic light rain, it began to rain.

Thin rain, a little bit, a drop, a string, formed a milky white ethereal curtain, interwoven into a gentle gauze curtain, slowly rushed to the earth. At the moment, I am weeding the corn in the field and saying to myself, "Hurry up, the rain is coming!" " "

In an instant, lightning is like a golden whip, one here and the other there. Then, the thunder rumbled like a big bang. This scene reminds me of the big battlefield of gunfire in the movie. Heavy rain is really coming!

The heavy rain poured down like a huge waterfall, and people working around were busy spreading umbrellas and raincoats to avoid the rain. I also quickly put down my hoe, took out my hat and hemp fiber, put it on in a panic, and stood on the edge of the ridge to shelter from the rain.

The mountains in the distance, like a thin layer of window screening, are vague, if there is nothing. The crops in the field trembled with fear, trying to unload the raindrops, and the pit under the corn next to them began to accumulate water. There is a "scratching" sound of heavy rain hitting the hat and hemp fiber in my ears, as if I were in a cowhide drum and the drumstick was beating constantly and quickly. Thunder rumbled in the middle of the low clouds, and a strong wind brought more urgent and fierce rain.

It's raining harder and harder, as if the old dragon king in the sky had gone crazy. Rain lines, like steel needles, are densely inserted into the depths of the earth.

The mountains covered with fine gauze in the distance seem to be blurred by a thick layer of ground glass. Several ginkgo trees in front of the mountain shook violently, as if in a fierce personal scuffle with the wind. The corn in the field also swayed violently from left to right, as if scrambling to look at some mysterious treasure in one direction. You pushed me and pushed it down. The pits under the cornfield are all filled with water, and the area is expanding rapidly, constantly overflowing around. The heavy rain fell on the surface of the pit, causing beautiful ripples. Many blisters keep blinking, admiring or jealous, I guess. The appearance of the heavy rain point just touching the water, like a delicate bottle mouth, is beautiful. The muddy water in the small ditch next to the ridge has inadvertently risen to the level of the ditch and steep slope, stirring up waves and rushing to the lower ridge ahead.

I found that the hat on my head didn't seem to work. It's raining heavily outside the hat, and water is dripping inside the hat, especially the top of the hat, which makes my hair wet. The raindrops on the top of the hat also hit harder, just like someone set off firecrackers on my head one after another. The wind blew the diagonal line connecting the rain channel and kept rushing towards my pants and shoes. My shoes are soaked to the skin. "Ah, I'm half wet!" I quickly squatted down. Something's wrong. There is a chill on my back. Touch your hand, and your underwear is wet. It turned out that I was too big to cover my back with a hat and hemp fiber when I squatted down, so I stood up angrily and rolled up my soaked pants.

At this time, my head, my back, my pants and shoes are all wet. I am like a sponge soaked in water. I can ooze water with a light touch. In the mountains, the rain in summer is also a little cold. My feet seem to have been stuffed into the refrigerator, and they are freezing cold. A gust of mountain wind struck, and I couldn't help shivering with cold.

"Alas, this damn weather!" I cursed in my heart, silently praying that the rain would stop soon!

Gradually, the wind stopped and the rain stopped. After more than an hour of rough summer rain, I seem to be exhausted. Raindrops become as small as a dime a dozen, gently moistening the earth, with a charm of "sneaking into the night with the wind, moistening things silently" The ditch water on the edge of the ridge gradually becomes thinner, and you can see pieces of bluestone exposed by the washed away soil. The corn in the field is lying on its side piece by piece, as if struggling to straighten up. At this time, almost all the people who worked in the field left, because there was no soil to sink their feet in.

With the helplessness of not weeding, I set foot on the road home in disappointment. At the entrance to the village, the dark clouds dispersed, the light rain stopped, and the burning sun shone on the earth again. I am very happy, and I can go weeding again tomorrow.

As soon as I entered the door, my mother said with concern, "Look at your clothes, they are all wet. Go upstairs and change them! " "

Yes! This wet dress needs changing!