Prose about winter in my hometown

Article 1: "Essay about Winter in Hometown"

Speaking of winter, people often think of such a scene: covered with ice and snow and howling in the north wind. This cold and shivering season is often used by poets and writers to express desolate feelings, and the cold north wind itself becomes even more biting. In fact, if you think about it carefully, whether it is the ice flowers on the glass window, the steaming stove, the dining table where the family is not sitting together, or the rosy cheeks of the children, they are all warm, cozy and comfortable. This is the warm winter, the winter that warms the heart...

In the early morning, when I open the door, it is snowy white outside, and thousands of pear blossoms are blooming on the branches. Such pure colors and such sincere feelings. It makes me, a person who loves winter, even more intoxicated. The whole world stopped being noisy, people gave up driving and started walking. The adults wrapped the children tightly, and their little cheeks, which were red from the cold, were filled with joyful affection. A heavy snowfall makes the whole northern country tender. The rising sun gradually rises from the east, and dazzling rays of light shine down on the clean snow. The sky and the earth seem to merge into one. Such a beautiful scene may only make people so nostalgic and fascinated in winter. I love winter not only for its pure white snow, but also for its quiet and peaceful atmosphere, as well as the tranquility of saying goodbye to the busy traffic for a while. The red leaves in late autumn, although no longer hot in winter, are still so dazzling against the backdrop of white snow. In this season, the fruits are no longer fragrant, but they are still sweet and delicious. The green land is no longer shiny, but it is still green and cheerful. Hold a cup of hot tea, sit alone by the warm stove, and feel the vastness and majesty of this northern garden. The wind is beautiful and the sun is beautiful, and it is especially refreshing!

In the afternoon, after lunch, I lay quietly on the bed and felt the warmest and most peaceful sunshine of the day, such tender years, such warm feelings. Unlike the blazing heat in summer, the sun in winter doesn't want people to escape. It seems that the only way to get closer is to get warmer. Unlike the dryness and cracking in spring, the sunshine in winter will not be so impatient. It seems that the growing season has passed, and all that is left is to wait quietly. Different from the desolation of autumn, when we appreciate the winter sunshine, we will not feel reluctant or regretful. We are more willing to stay close to the sunshine, feel the warmth of winter, calmly look forward to it, and talk about our hearts. Winter is no longer cold. Looking at the people jogging in the park in the morning, you can feel the unique activity of winter. Winter is no longer lonely. Looking at those people who go for winter swimming early in the morning, you can feel it better. This unique vitality in winter. Winter is a warm season. A ray of sunshine, a bit of warmth, and a little bit of hope make us generous and full of expectations in this winter atmosphere.

In the evening, feel the majesty of the sunset. The setting sun is like blood, and the vast sea is like a painting. The wintersweet blooming in the courtyard has lost the tenderness of spring and summer flowers, and has become more stable and mature. In the calm autumn, it blooms quietly, and the fragrance slowly spreads, becoming more and more beautiful. It's intoxicating. Hold a plum blossom, put it on the tip of your nose, walk slowly in the setting sun, look at the flaming sunset, and appreciate the beautiful scene before it passes away. Who, in this autumn scene, sings the sorrow forever... Who, in this lonely dusk, turns the stability into condensation... The clouds reflect the sun and the sky is red. Put on a thick layer of clothing, carry a shawl of long hair, and go out for a walk. Forget about the sad yellowness that is gradually appearing, and stop daydreaming about the face that is becoming more and more vicissitudes of life. Instead, pick up the enthusiastic heart and carry with it the traces of selected prose from last winter.

Light dreams. What life has flown in the sky, walked on the ground, or been in the river? Which life is not hot enough? Which individual is not vivid enough? Yes, it's cold, so what...

Aftertaste, the unique cleanliness and warmth in this winter, feel the peace and richness. Small bridges and flowing water are a kind of fairyland. The warm sunshine in winter shows elegance. There are rough mountains in the north, even though they have been soaked in desolation, but the vigorous vitality has not gone far, and the greenery of the coming year is still full of desire; in the south, there are elegant small bridges and flowing water, even in the howling cold wind, there are already some It has dried up, but the nourishment of the spring water is still there, and the call of the spring girl is still loud and clear. No matter how the slanting sunset takes away the late autumn time, the calm heart is still full and rich.

In this warm winter season, bring your family and friends to feel the last warmth and heaviness before winter comes, appreciate the true feelings while talking and laughing, manage our lives with heart, and enjoy the coolness of winter under the steaming stove. The edges will also look full and happy...

In winter, the snow is white, the breeze is comfortable, and the boundless greenery is gone, but the pure white tranquility will last longer.

On a winter night, the moon is shining brightly, it is quiet and peaceful. Although the splendor of midsummer is gone, peace and elegance can still interpret the most beautiful years. I love this warm winter scene in **, and I love this peaceful winter even more.

The second article: "Cao Hanqing's Prose "Winter Sunshine"" Selected Winter Prose.

The afternoon sun shines through the thin clouds in the courtyard, making people feel warm. The domestic cat lay beside the wooden bench and squinted its eyes lazily. After lunch, I went next door to play with my cousin. He was sitting in the sun, looking depressed. I asked him to play table tennis with me, but he refused outright, saying he wanted to take a walk in the sunshine. So, I followed him and started walking aimlessly.

We crossed the wide and straight asphalt road at the end of the village and came to the vast wheat field, walking slowly along the dirt road in the field. He was silent along the way, sometimes looking up at the sun, which shone on his bronze face. When I spoke, he just responded with his eyes or nodded slightly, as if he agreed with everything I said. In fact, I know he is just perfunctory with me. His nonchalance was uncharacteristic of him.

The wheat fields in winter are empty and sparse, the wheat seedlings are sparse, the trees look emaciated, the ditches are filled with dead grass and dead leaves, and the faint sunshine spreads on the field roads. This kind of scenery is rich and simple, like a sketch drawn by an artist with charcoal. My cousin and I walked through wheat fields, passed a cemetery, and walked through depressed trees, and then climbed to a high sand hill. At this time, the sun is right above our heads, so close to us that we can touch it if we reach out. Thousands of golden lights are like slender and translucent palms stretched out by the sun, gently touching us, making people feel soft and warm, and feeling that a majestic and unrestrained power has been injected into the body. My cousin and I sat quietly under the sun, overlooking the villages, fields, and rivers. The familiar soil, stones, plants, and trees seemed to be dyed with strange colors by the sunlight, and they looked so magnificent. Selected Winter Prose .

"The sunshine in winter is the warmest and the brightest." My cousin couldn't help but said, raising his face towards the sun as he spoke. Golden sunlight shone on his face.

Soon, my cousin went to work in other provinces. He came back the next winter. He looked haggard, more steady and taciturn than before. The aunt said that he had lost weight and must be very tired from working outside. He must have suffered a lot. One afternoon my cousin asked me to go for a walk with him. We still followed the previous route and enjoyed the winter sunshine. He also came back before the Spring Festival of the third year and stayed at home for only three days. One afternoon we went to the sand hill to bask in the sun.

The sun and the moon are constantly rotating like flying wheels, and spring, summer, autumn and winter are changing unstoppably. Every winter, my cousin and I always take an afternoon to walk to the sand hill to get closer to the sunshine. This gradually became a ritual in our lives. I also believe what my cousin said is right. The sun in winter is the warmest and the brightest. It can illuminate the darkness of our lives, dry our damp minds, and warm our cold hearts.

The third article: "(The Essence of Prose Favored by Students) True Feelings Everywhere_Winter Comes to the Village"

It seems that only when the snow falls can people feel the poetry of winter? And The days of falling snow will eventually end when the sun shines; it is still a cold and dry season, but some backlit old tile-roofed houses and ditch slopes have to embrace the remaining snow for a while to recall the past of falling snow, while the frozen weeds have already Thinking about another world.

Some things in winter are very dry, like the cracked lips of the villagers. They have to be moisturized and smeared with some oily things so that they will no longer make people feel heartache; some fantasies in winter are very thin and seem to require some old man Only by boiling hot mutton and cabbage soup can we fatten up, and fantasize about having spring love warmly; love in winter is very fragile, and it seems that only by wrapping it tightly with the red package of the blind date between the boys and girls in the village can the love not be broken easily? Men know , the sunshine in winter is very precious and short-lived, even though they have hot quilts with their wives' legs stretched out (of course, the bachelors only have thermos bottles stuffed under their quilts), even though they often light a pot of old tree roots in the old tile-roofed house. , they still yearn for sunshine. On countless cold mornings, they always brought breakfast, basked in the sun in small groups, drank porridge, and talked about some disgusting words and anecdotes passed down by word of mouth. The women also longed for the sunshine and stood aside smiling as usual, holding their rice bowls. A meal lasts for more than an hour, and only the water in the frozen pond boils and freezes, and guests from other villages come to visit, so rural rice, especially rural rice in winter, has The saying of "ten miles of rice". The winter in the countryside passes day by day while men and women suck and drink porridge; the sun in the countryside rolls by while men and women chew hot buns and eat radish and cabbage; the winter nights in the countryside pass by while men and women eat rice porridge. The women slipped quietly under the hot quilts with their legs open; the moon in the countryside was awakened by the coughs of the men at watch, and it also set in the west due to the tiptoeing of the sneaky villains.

Winter in the countryside is a time for matchmakers to run around. They are always very enthusiastic about the girls and boys being married by the media. They often rush for three or two hundred yuan in gift money. They often try to make excuses for the beardless and eye-catching parents of both men and women. After hard work, they finally get a couple married. . Until a certain auspicious day, the girl finally got into the wedding car, became the wife of a country boy with great glory, and lived a simple life in the country like her parents. At this moment, the matchmaker had a drunken and wrinkled face. He showed a bit of exhaustion and helplessness. The dry gift note from the matchmaker is not delicious.

Severe winter is a day that old people fear. At this time, the old people always say the hard truth that they are not afraid of death, but they always think about the days of eating round buns with a guilty conscience. They know from old experience that once they have survived the unbearable weather in Jiaojiu, they will have passed through the "Gate of Hell" after spring. After eating steamed buns and the laughter of their children and grandchildren celebrating their birthdays, they will have the confidence to continue their work. Welcome to the next harsh winter. However, the cold demon will eventually take away an old man's old age. The ideal round buns can only be placed by the children and grandchildren on the land where they slept. As a result, winter events in the countryside are often enriched by an old man's sudden sleep. The men in the village sent someone to each household to collect two yuan, and together they bought a few cartons of low-quality cigarettes, a few cannons, and a few bundles of fire paper, and then they went in groups to set off cannons for the families holding funerals as a sign of condolence. . Then they talked about the shortness of life and the hardships of the harsh winter, reminding each other of the life that we don’t know whether we will live or die, and we just have to eat and drink, as if we have seen through the world of mortals. A few days later, they were all busy again, and the busy days unknowingly eroded their lives, and the cold winter froze their kind and strong bodies in the village.

The harsh winter can only create some ordinary stories and topics in the village. This kind of stories and topics came out of a certain villager's sneezing and coughing from the small courtyard. They came out of it when the villagers chewed wheat. They came out when women came to visit and leaned against the door frame. They came out from the old cow. When the gangsters squatted together to watch the cows foaming, they chanted yellow from the drought smoke - how many sifters of grass your cow has eaten, and how many months my donkey has been pregnant with the foal. They are used to seeing the greedy way their cows eat grass and chewing food, and are used to hearing the crunching sound of donkeys chewing grass. They are also used to smoking the strong tobacco leaves that they have smoked for half their lives. over the severe cold in winter. Got used to the chaff fires they lit in the cattle houses. When the snow falls again, they will definitely pick up piles of stray dry soil from the fields, put mats on them for their beloved livestock, and then boil hot water so that the livestock can survive the falling snow. The days are warmer. And they often only cover themselves with a very old and shabby quilt - the filial daughters-in-law give them a new quilt, but they dare not cover themselves with it, because they are afraid that they will get dirty. New quilt. Some cattle owners who have wives cannot enjoy the feeling of their wives stretching their legs to warm their feet. They are afraid that their daughters-in-law will laugh at them, and they are afraid that the villagers will say that they are "silent".

Therefore, a certain old boss among them may have been quietly taken away by the cold wave on a cold winter night. At that time, there were cowbells tinkling and playing a rhymeless song for him? When another winter comes, for a village, missing an old cowboy is like missing a villager. Like an old bent tree, no one cares. Only Lao Niuban’s wife was in a corner on a winter night, remembering the past as strong as the roots of an old tree. This past will sprout. When a warm spring comes, it will sprout like the roots of an old tree?