Find an 800-word composition entitled "Beauty on the Road".

This is a path of more than 200 meters. Grandpa turned white as soon as he left.

-inscription

My childhood was spent in mountains and rivers, on the bumpy road hundreds of meters from home to school. At that time, I flew around like a happy bird, and my grandfather accompanied me every day, walking through countless hundred meters, rain or shine.

Remember, I finished all my primary school courses on grandpa's bike. I was sitting on the front beam of my grandfather's bicycle, and he told me that eight times nine equals seventy-two, and nine times eight equals seventy-two. At that time, I thought grandpa was great and knew a lot. Sometimes I also tell my grandpa interesting things that happened at school. My grandfather always listened patiently and told me with a smile, and there were many things that I found extremely interesting when I was a child.

Grandpa will accompany me when I am older. I remember a heavy snow that fell below my knees. I'm really scared. Grandpa pulled my collar and left home without saying anything. The cold wind blows on my face, like a knife, and my eyes are almost closed. However, there is a figure moving forward in the blur, holding my hand step by step. In the early morning snow, two pairs of footprints extend far away. ...

At the age when I thought I had grown up, my grandfather was still with me, but I didn't know that time had dyed his sideburns white, time had bent his back, and the wind and frost had carved wrinkles on his face. Growing up in the years, I have already walked as fast as a fly. I used to walk for fifteen minutes and run and jump for less than ten minutes. I began to feel that grandpa walked slowly and didn't like to let my friends see his old figure. I walked faster and faster, and gradually, I left my grandfather behind. When one day, I found that there was no shadow of my grandfather behind me, I was glad that I ran and jumped across a road and ran all the way to school.

I watched blood gush from my leg, and my grandfather began to tell me the story of how steel was tempered. I hadn't finished it the other day. Talk about how Paul insisted on writing before he died. So I endured the pain, listened to the story and walked into the school gate again. Afterwards, I learned that grandpa knew my mind, but he couldn't worry about me, so he followed me far away every day.

On the road, there are laughter and laughter of my childhood; On the road, there are years to bring grandpa old; On the way, I grew up gradually; On the way, there is grandpa's love. Love, on the road; Love, in my heart

(Original) The ultimate beauty is on the road.

Life is a long journey. Love life, discover and collect bits and pieces of the journey, and fill and enrich your mind with beautiful moments, so that you won't feel wasted.

I like to travel around the motherland, study in thousands of books and take Wan Li Road. On the way, I left my footprints; Discover the ultimate beauty and never forget it; On the road, pursue happiness and health with your heart and stimulate your dreams.

I was lucky enough to walk to the plateau from the place where the Yellow River entered the sea, and saw the high blue sky and white clouds rolling freely, as if within reach; Walking into Jiuzhaigou's colorful fairy tales, you can have a panoramic view of colorful Haizi, exotic flowers and herbs, and towering Nuorilang Waterfall. Visit the legendary Shangri-La with the disappearing horizon, which is holy and pure, and the harmony between man and nature; Feel the majestic beauty of Erhai Lake in Nacang Mountain, Dali, Yunnan. People are wandering on cruise ships, and the clouds and mountains in the sky are fascinated by Tibet. Charming legends interpret the beauty of this plateau lake in the mountains.

I am fortunate to sail the Lijiang River and the Baili Gallery, which is like a poem and a dream, and I can't bear to leave. Watching the Changbai Mountain volcano surge quietly under the snow and ice, Tianchi is like a jasper, attracting tourists to stop; Go to Wulingyuan, witness the "naturally carved" Zhangjiajie bonsai, visit the Xanadu described by Tao Yuanming, and be a native there.

I was in Dai Yu Beach, playing rough waves and stepping barefoot on the beach. I used to wander around the lake in Qinghai, sitting on the rape flowers in Huang Cancan, with green land and living carpets spread out in front of the lake.

I was lucky enough to climb Mount Tai and see the bursting sunrise in the vast sea of clouds. I stood on the Jade Emperor's top, surrounded by clouds and mountains. The wind was mighty, comfortable and cool, and I spread my arms as if I were about to fly away. I only experienced the cool Wutai Mountain and Zhejiang Putuo Mountain, and the shadow of Foguang Mountain led people into a pure land of mind and a clear sky. Appreciate the soft Wuyi Mountain, feel Huashan Mountain, and feel health and happiness by yourself.

If you feel hot, go to chengde mountain resort and share a room with the Qing royal family. When it's cold, go to Hainan Island to avoid the cold. Sunshine, beaches and coconut groves are swaying, and the southern style of water and sky will definitely make people linger; If you want to listen to piano music, you can go to Gulangyu and have a rest on the waves. From time to time, romantic piano sounds come and you are intoxicated. If you want to get rich, go to Shanxi, study Qiao Zhiyong in the Qiao Family Courtyard, and see how those Shanxi businessmen get rich.

On the way, you must do as the Romans do. Let Mongolian milk tea, Tibetan butter tea and highland barley wine stimulate your taste buds; Carefully taste the special flavor of sweet in the south, salty in the north, spicy in the east and sour in the west; Delicacies, delicacies and famous specialties from all over the country can also be taken home to enjoy and taste slowly; The local customs and strange clothes of all ethnic groups always make people feel novel.

When you have lived in a small town for a long time and are physically and mentally exhausted, don't forget to take simple luggage and walk on the road to feel the beauty and magic of nature; Mountains and rivers, rivers and lakes, beaches, Gobi, deserts and relics, discovering the ultimate beauty will definitely enlighten our minds; On the way, I gradually realized that compared with the magnificent and beautiful mountains and rivers, human beings are small, and nature, heaven and earth and laws are great and magical.

When I was very young, my mother held my hand and taught me to walk. From then on, my mother took my hand, walked across the dirt bridge, walked across the stone road and walked through the years.

In a blink of an eye, I was 7 years old, and my mother took me by the hand and sent me to school. I remember my mother's hands were so white and soft. I feel happy when her strong hand holds my little hand. It is in this hand-in-hand that my mother injected selfless and holy maternal love into my life. So I can always find various reasons for my mother to hold my hand, even though I have learned to walk. But then something happened that made me feel guilty and didn't let my mother hold my hand again.

What a beautiful autumn day it is! When my mother dragged me across the small bridge at the head of the village, I had a whim and asked my mother to take my hand and fly forward. Who knows, just as I was intoxicated with the ecstasy of running, my mother accidentally dislocated her wrist! Looking at the painful expression of my mother when the doctor treated her, I seemed to feel that I was in pain when I was a child, and I made up my mind from then on: I will never let my mother hold my hand again!

The wheels of years flew by, and I grew up unconsciously. I really never walked hand in hand with my mother again.

Studying in a different place will occasionally remind me of my mother, my childhood, but not the years when my mother held my hand. Until one day, when I saw a young mother holding a toddler girl, my heart suddenly trembled and I had an impulse to go home and let my mother hold hands again. Finally home. My mother and I looked at each other for a long time. My mother said happily that I had grown taller, but I found my mother much older. "The debt of white-haired children is deeply branded with years." The mother takes her aging as the price of her daughter's growth! I put down my luggage, took my mother's hand and whispered, "Mom, let's go out for a walk." Mom looked a little surprised, and then happily walked out of the house with me. It is still the small bridge at the head of the village, or the mother and daughter of that year. My mother's hands are still warm and powerful that year, but they are no longer white and soft. Her hands are black and rough, with cracks in some places and thick cocoons on her palms. Holding my mother's bony hand, I don't think I touched her hand, but her vicissitudes of life for most of her life. That afternoon, my mother was very happy and told some trivial things about daily necessities. I also listened patiently. When I was a child, I made up my mind not to let my mother hold my hand again. Now, I want to say: "Mom, hold my daughter's hand through the wind and rain and the four seasons!" "

Life is like a journey, you don't have to care about the destination; What you should care about is the scenery along the way and the mood of watching the scenery. Let's take a piece of paper with us, whether it is yellow or new. Look at the clouds, the flowers bloom and the flowers fall. Recording the bits and pieces of the journey, as well as those who have warmed us and touched us, will become indelible beautiful scenery in life.

We are not alone, there are always people along the way. I miss those innocent years, those days when I climbed over the fence and sneaked into school, those days when I shook the bell and hummed nursery rhymes, and those days when I hid in the quilt during my lunch break. In those days, we often walked hand in hand.

I remember those midsummer days, when we stood in the shade and drank iced soda. The water is sweet and cold, and it keeps flowing into my heart. As a result of sweating, strands of hair stuck to our foreheads. We touched the bottle and smiled happily, even the cicada's voice was forgotten. What a simple happiness.

Because the school gate was closed, we climbed over the low wall next to it and accidentally cut our hands, and the deep red blood suddenly oozed out. Even so, I gritted my teeth and said it didn't hurt at all. You must have laughed at me then. Obviously, you have to pretend to be a grinning man. Then he said he would drag me to the infirmary to get my medicine.

Afternoon is the happiest and shortest time. We set the clothes as the goal and started running all over the field. On the small court, our laughter echoed.

A short line rushed across the sky, followed by the second and third lines. Then I heard a bang and the sound of raindrops hitting the leaves. Boring, I just think it's raining. You took my hand and ran away, the next second. I almost fell down several times, but I still held your hand tightly. Finally, we running all the way came under the eaves, looked at each other already soaked, and smiled happily.

Although I have drifted away these days, I inadvertently look back and the scenery remains the same. None of you have left. Thank you for walking me that way. You have given me strength, so that no matter how steep mountains, muddy and rugged roads and swift rivers I encounter in the future, I will never hesitate again!

I will carefully collect all the warmth in the softest corner of my heart. Maybe one day, when I meet the winter of my life, I will wake them up, let the once-touched heart ripple again and melt the frost of this season.

Pack your bags and wave goodbye to the clouds. I'm going on my way again. Life flies, I will cherish every minute on the road, and I will miss the beautiful scenery on the journey.

What's my next stop?

To write a good article, we must first learn to cultivate our ability to capture the moments that touch our lives. It should be noted that the author of this paper is good at understanding the little things in life through memories, and then conceives such an elegant work full of warmth and affection. Good friendship pervades the article, and cherish the friendship that jumps under the pen tip. Our readers seem to trace back to that eternal era. The beautiful display of writing style, the hearty expression of emotions, especially the use of some classic poetic languages, such as "Waving Farewell to Clouds All over the Sky" and "Clouds Rolling and Clouds Blooming and Flowers Falling", all show the author's cultural accumulation well.