Composition: Please write a composition on the topic of "rain". It is required to write about rain scenes and express rain feelings in no less than 600 words. . . Deadline: September 16, 2010 24:00

1. The rain outside the window is thin and continuous. The drifting rain and mist blurred the entire wooden house, making it feel so cold and missing. The wet mood is like the gray sky, blurring the day and darkening everything. The mood also changes with the change of weather, becoming sentimental.

I always think of some people and things on rainy days, and I feel inexplicably melancholy, as if everything about tomorrow is in vain. People say that memories often come from dissatisfaction with reality. If you think about it carefully, yes or no, as long as you feel at ease.

I was originally a person who loved fantasy and romance. Until my black hair turned to white hair and wrinkles covered my forehead, I still felt like a young man, and occasionally I would be energetic.

Occasionally, I see my own soul, wandering around to find the books, and then the sentences lying there are picked up, and the words are awakened, so the passionate, sad, joyful, and angry , imaginary, and realistic shadows were arranged one by one and were deposited on the display screen. I thought it was pretty good, so I enjoyed it by myself when I had nothing to do.

Occasionally, I suddenly want to escape from real life, pack up my simple belongings, and go wandering alone.

Now that we have lost what we should not lose and have not obtained what we should get, why can't we indulge in our own daydreams? Just go your own way and let others tell you.

Occasionally I think about it, real life has long been beyond recognition, but I can only do nothing about it. There is no ideal kingdom now or forever.

I don’t know how many years have passed since the cool wind of the four seasons has blown away, taking away courage and pride, until everyone’s wrinkles have rolled up into waves, they hold their heads high, feel good about themselves, and no longer care about others. eyes.

In the end, the wind only left the rain behind, allowing me to think wildly on this rainy day, passing away the loneliness... passing the time.

2. "The soil is about to stir and the rains are frequent, and thousands of grasses, flowers and trees bloom." I always stubbornly believe that spring begins with the lingering spring rain.

Slowly, slowly, the arms of spring are gently held by the spring rain, accompanied by the lingering strands and the flowing wind, shyly and slightly drunk. With girlish steps, spring is slowly coming towards us. And the lingering must be cool, wrapped in the intoxicating fragrance of apricot blossoms; the wind must also be slanting, smoky, lively and sparkling with crystal eyes.

The lingering, greasy, moist, and quiet spring rain is elusive, and we can’t even see her tenderness with our eyes. Otherwise, how could there be "drizzle" What about the verse about "the clothes cannot be seen"? Therefore, the charm and tenderness of spring rain should be listened to quietly.

To listen to the spring rain, it’s best to listen to the spring rain at night, preferably in a quiet night. Don’t turn on the lights. A candle, a cup of light tea, and a cigarette. Let the candle light dimly and the tea has a faint fragrance. The ground spread out, the cigarette burned quietly, and I just sat quietly, thinking about nothing, just listening, listening.

At this time, you will definitely know that the spring rain is not "moistening things silently", nor is it "listening to the silent flowers". You clearly heard the charm of the begonia in the independent drizzle, and you also You hear the blooming of apricot, pear and peach blossoms. You also hear the misty mountain scenery and the lush river grass. You also hear the fish scurrying out of the water and the swallows flying sideways. In the emptiness, you unconsciously hear the willow threads soaked in the rain and the pine branches in the smoke cage. The green, soft grass seems to be there yet, carrying a reed flute and walking lively into your listening. That bamboo hat and coir raincoat wave a wine flag in your listening, oh , you are drunk in your own listening.

I don’t know whether you were drunk and listened to it, or whether listening made you drunk, or it was the spring rain that made the world drunk? Or are you drunk among the flowers, lying on a boat under the willow shade, lying down in a wine shop beside the official road in Weicheng, or leaning against the red railing of a small building?

You are drunk, drunk in the lingering spring rain. The drunkenness can be heard, comfortable and warm. With drunken eyes and hazy eyes, your eyes must be filled with green clouds and sluggish water. Isn't that the spring rain you heard?

"Listen to the spring rain in the small building all night, and sell apricot flowers in the deep alleys in the Ming Dynasty." With a crisp and tender cry, you heard the fragrance of apricot flowers again, heard a shy figure and an umbrella, With lingering feelings and tenderness.

Isn’t that the delicate hand holding the arm of spring? Tick-tock, tick-tock, walking slowly, step by step.

3. It’s raining, it’s raining, it’s been raining since yesterday morning until now, it’s been raining, unhurriedly, and slowly falling on the already wet ground. Looking up, there is a gray mist everywhere, as thick as honey that cannot be melted. The thin raindrops are strung together into a thin layer of mist, falling softly on the eyebrows and hair of passers-by, making them misty. It's like a dream. In this small city in the north, wind, dust, and scorching sun are commonplace every day, but this gentle drizzle is a rare visitor.

Today, because of the sudden and continuous drizzle, the small town in Jiangbei actually has the melancholy and romance of the misty rain in Jiangnan. What kind of beautiful and fragrant dreams should be composed of it? Because of this rain, it reminded me of Dai Wangshu's "Rain Alley". The girl with a lilac-like resentment holds an oil-paper umbrella in such a long and deep alley. If there is no rain, there will be no such thing. The unique romantic atmosphere will not make that lilac-like girl become the dream of men for a century... If there was no rain, there would be no story about Xu Xian meeting the White Snake by chance on the broken bridge by the West Lake. , maybe all romantic love is suitable for meeting and happening in the rain, otherwise, it would not be possible to perform that eternal song, that life-and-death love affair, which is still so popular and unforgettable to this day.

The rain keeps falling. Perhaps these gentle rains are the lovesickness that the clouds in the sky have accumulated for too long. In today's late spring and early summer season, they are all pouring out to her lover, the world. , maybe because it has been accumulated for too long, Yunduo still refuses to stop talking until now, just to tell us her loneliness and sadness, otherwise why would she keep telling us? Thinking of this, I suddenly had the idea of ??going for a walk. This kind of light rain may be the most suitable for holding your lover's hand and walking slowly on the path together, letting the slightest raindrops slowly fall between us. I can rest my head on his shoulder without holding an umbrella, and let the thin raindrops fall on my face, numbing it. It is a kind of charm and a feeling. Only at this time can I really feel that I am holding my hand. Live happiness and hold the truth. So I quietly went out and peeked at the hurried passers-by on the road. Those fresh and beautiful girls may have been imprisoned by winter for too long and were eager to show off their beautiful lines. During these two days when the temperature dropped sharply, they still did not beat back their love. The heart of beauty, short sleeves, short skirt, completely exposing her slender and beautiful legs to the humid air, carrying an elegant flower folding umbrella, curling gracefully, Ana was walking through the street in a colorful way, like a The elves walking in the city add a lot of beautiful reverie and color to this cold rainy city. I am reminded of a poem written by someone I don’t know: “My clothes are wet with the rain of apricot blossoms, and my face is not chilled by the willow wind…” The metaphor for the current scene couldn’t be more appropriate.

The rain continues to fall, stretching people's melancholy hard. On rainy days, it always makes people's bright mood feel a little bit emotional, with complaints and sadness. But change your mood to listen to the rain, watch the rain, let yourself settle in the rustling rain, sit by the window, put on music, listen to a song about rain, such as "The Rain Keeps Falling" by Zhang Yu, and then Read another short poem about rain and recall your memories of rain when you were a child. I think no matter who you are, you will be drunk in this moist softness. At this time, maybe you will be happy in your heart, because the rain brings our memories very close, and she brings our thoughts to our eyes. We are within reach, and when we touch it, our heart will feel soft and painful...

The rain is still telling, at this time, you can do nothing, think about nothing, the only thing you can do is to quietly Sit in your own space, make a cup of tea, or hold a book. Outside the window, the sound of rain rustles, and inside the window, Zhang Yu's song "The Rain Keeps Falling": "The rain keeps falling, and the atmosphere is not harmonious. , under the same roof, you gradually feel your heart changing..." The slightly sad melody softly spreads in every corner of the space.

Troubles and sadness gradually fade away in the clear and dripping rain with the gentle rain and music...