Prose describing summer

Speaking of summer nights, people will definitely think of the starry night sky and the white Milky Way ... what a beautiful artistic conception. When the night comes, you may wish to look up and savor the feeling of bathing under the stars, and you can also find a different style of summer! The following contents are carefully arranged by me for you. Welcome to refer to them!

The hot summer is coming, and the sun is like a freshly baked sweet potato, burning the earth red and hot, even letting go of all kinds of small creatures: people sweat like rain, dogs spit out their tongues all day to dissipate heat, making a haha sound, and flowers are like firewood. Everyone is wearing short-sleeved shorts and holding fans, but they can't resist the power of the sun.

The trees changed from bare to thick. In the eyeful of green, adults sit under its armpits and play chess and chat, while children bounce around it. Cicada in the tree is also busy singing contest. The whole park is full of sweet insects. "gee! Hey! " "ah! At first, it was the sound of this tree. After a while, the insects on the tree began to sing, forming the sound of nature in the summer afternoon.

When you come to the seaside and look around, the waves are like the magnificent spectacle when Xianglong appears. Some people are playing volleyball on the beach, some are building sand castles and some are sunbathing. The whole coast presents a harmonious scene. When you are tired of playing, you can soak in the cold and cool sea water. Feel comfortable. This is really a great enjoyment of life!

Speaking of summer nights, people will definitely think of the starry night sky and the white Milky Way ... what a beautiful artistic conception. When the night comes, you may wish to look up and savor the feeling of bathing under the stars, and you can also find a different style of summer!

In hot summer, besides enjoying the cool, playing with water and watching the stars, it is also a good choice to do what you want while blowing air conditioning indoors. Summer is a hot and terrible season, with frightening typhoons and thunderous thunderstorms, but it also has a good side after all. It makes everything in the world full of the breath of life, makes trees grow more luxuriantly, and the day is longer than the night, which is the embodiment of light. In a word, summer is a sunny and changeable season.

The summer prose describing the second spring is like a huge parallel prose; Summer is like a sonnet.

For a long time, I don't care about cicadas anymore. My ears are busy listening to the sound of cars, the knock on the door of variety shows, the impatient voice of the conductor, and the whispers of friends attached to my ears ... I should find a clear and clean river to wash my ears, because I can't hear cicadas.

So, I don't know when summer crossed the threshold. Until that day, I was taking a class in the history of literature. Suddenly, all the cicadas cried at the same time, which startled me. My pen gesture is stuck in the air, and I can't comment on the invisible and intangible voices in front of me! What a surprise! It attracted my whole thought, just like iron sand rushing to a magnet. But when I held my breath and listened attentively, suddenly, I stopped talking. This cicada scared me again! Cicada tied my heart tightly like a rope, and suddenly it was released without warning, so my heart spread out defenseless, such as struggling to jump into the sky and accidentally falling on the beach!

I don't know when I crossed the threshold in summer!

This is a window with leaves. The round and flat leaves are like flower-and-bird paintings on the door curtain, and of course they are more lively. As soon as the wind blows, they swing with brushes. I seem to hear laughter, much like a group of little urchins swinging in the game! The wind is a behind-the-scenes worker, responsible for pushing them into the sky, and cicadas are cheerleaders, trying to make a sound on the branches. There is no referee.

I can't help thinking of my childhood, my childhood. Because these sweet notes are too like a tape, let me pick up the sounds of my childhood one by one.

The first thing I picked up was cicada.

At that time, the most exciting thing was not listening to cicadas but catching them. Children always like to enjoy everything that makes them curious, and I am no exception. In primary school, there are afternoon classes, which is the privilege of children in grade one and grade two. So I was still young. There are four roads to school. One is along the river. The trees on the shore are tall and the shade is dense, which often covers half the sky. Although there are also rural farmhouses nearby, they are inaccessible. For us, it is really far and deep, which makes people feel scared. However, there are always many trips a week, especially in summer. In the afternoon shift, we always go that way together when we call our friends, with no other purpose, just to catch cicadas.

You can catch cicadas, but you can't catch cicadas.

Summer is the season of sound, with rain, thunder, frogs, birds and cicadas. Cicada singing is enough to represent summer, so summer is like a quatrain.

Recite quatrains, or add a few words to sing. Cicada is the chorus of nature; Beautiful timbre, clear rhythm, recited a quatrain. This quatrain is not found in Selected Poems of Tang Poetry and Song Poetry, nor does Wang Wei, nor does Li Bai. It's a lyric poem because cicadas feel the same about seasons and midsummer. Poetry has its own flavor of life, a little simple and almost natural, and a little broad and elegant. More often, especially when they all stop their voices, I feel as if there are many heroic and tragic stories to tell in their minds. Perhaps, it is a lyric frontier poem.

Listen to cicadas in the morning and think of their nobleness. Cicada should be a hermit among winged people! Live high in the treetops, eat wind and drink dew, and don't eat fireworks. The cicada's singing is particularly light in the dim morning light, and it seems that there is nothing at a distance. After a cicada singing, my heart became transparent and clear, and I had an understanding of "where to make dust". Cicadas are Zen.

There was cicada singing in the afternoon, but it was a little noisy. Like a group of minstrels, they met unexpectedly in the shade and rested leisurely. Lala miscellaneous, they chat and inquire about the four seasons, but no one wants to write poetry, so there is no rhythm and rhythm. They exchange the direction of wandering, but they are not enthusiastic, because "wandering" actually has no direction.

At dusk, I like to listen to cicadas while walking. Walking into the world of cicadas is like enjoying a concert, if you know how to listen. Sometimes we complain that the world is getting ugly and there is too much noise in modern civilization. In fact, in a pool of turbid water, isn't there a pool of clear water? There are also so-called "sounds of nature" interwoven with machine sounds in the sound screen. We are just so busy that we miss the good things and don't know it. I am too focused on myself, and the lens of life only captures the big close-ups of my emotions, and everything else is the same background. If we can take a step back and look around, we may find that the whole pattern has changed. What has changed is not the pattern itself, but our vision. So, once in a while, slow down and let your eyes browse the world at will with the greatest possibility, and we will suddenly realize; The world is still dressing itself up. What can be more refreshing than listening to cicadas while walking? According to friends and relatives, this is our common experience. It's not difficult for us to listen to anything, is it?

Listening is also an art, and the vastness of nature is the best audio equipment. Imagine teams of male cicadas folding their wings and standing on different treetops, just like members of a symphony orchestra standing on the stage. As long as the cicada makes a sound, the sound will come out of the cage. They dedicate the most beautiful timbre to you, every word is true, and every sentence comes from Tian Dan. They have a distinct sense of rhythm, and different rhythms express different moods. Sometimes it is a chorus, sometimes it is a chorus, and there are also solos, including chords, which are clear from high to low. They don't need conductor or music. They are born singers. Singing is like flowing water, which makes people feel worried and swim in it. Another example is Peng Tao, and another example is the stormy waves, beating the emotions that have settled in your heart. In an instant, you feel that cicadas are like wild waves, robbing you of the faint sadness that you hold tightly in your hand. When cicadas have a sweet and gentle language like night, it should be a love song! Always three sentences, just like that endless lingering. However, the urgency of cicada singing suddenly came to an abrupt end at the highest tone, more like a splendid article was suddenly torn, and the sonorous words scattered all over the floor were thrown to the ground like gold, and then the silence became fragmented, leaving people with some disappointment and some sadness. Isn't it a song of life? Cicada.

And the cicada sound is still the same year after year, still like a quatrain, plain and even.