Rural life prose

Introduction: Prose is a narrative literary genre, which expresses the author's true feelings and has a flexible writing style. The following is a model essay on rural life that I compiled for you, hoping to help you!

Rural Life Prose (1) When I am free, I always feel that I should do something, make a cup of tea, or light a cigarette without smoking, so that my thoughts can fly: What is life for?

From Monday to Friday, I remember that the weekend is not a working day for a long time, and it is very safe to go back to a place more than 100 kilometers every weekend. The weekend is simple! Life always thinks that every day is a weekend. What is valuable is constant persistence. Weekends are like manna for people who are far away from home, because this kind of life seems to be really inadequate.

Can this make up for the missing? One week after another, week after week, year after year, two years have passed here, and such days are in a daze day by day. Then, I thought, what is life for? Students, study hard, and then step into officialdom and become famous? The vast sea of business, driving fame and profit, famous luxury cars? Push a cup for a change, feasting and hugging beautiful women around you? The ancients said: money is a thing apart from me, and I must have a reason!

Do you (friends, classmates, colleagues and peers) have the following feelings?

I can't wake up every morning, even if I let you sleep for another hour or two, you will feel groggy; Get up every morning with backache, even if it is a soft mattress; Even if you live a comfortable life, you will be tired; Even if you like drinking very much, you will occasionally feel that drinking is really boring; Even if you are lonely again, you will hate colorful life one day. What the hell is going on here?

So, I began to observe myself: my appetite is decreasing day by day; I feel strongly that drinking is boring (I was ecstatic when I thought I could drink it before); Playing table tennis always likes the feeling of wanting to kill the ball or being killed; As soon as I get to the office or home, I want to go out for a walk or just sit there; I want to scold our party and army as soon as I repay the loan; When it's time to pay taxes, I will scold the harmonious society for cheating. ...

I started looking for answers. I am puzzled: I came from the countryside and worked hard after graduating from college. Now I have my own home. What is wrong with me? A person sitting in front of the computer under the lamp began to feel that he had found the answer!

We have lost a lot in the pursuit of mainstream values! At midnight, many friends don't want to put down their glasses. They think they should drink something to keep warm this winter. When they walked out of the pub, they could still feel the coolness of the night wind. I won't be lonely at night, but I still have to come and go, and my thoughts are pulled back to my childhood ... I think I miss my past life!

Everything is so primitive, without the coldness of reinforced concrete and the radiation of modern electrical equipment, but everything is so healthy and unforgettable!

When you get up in the morning, the sky is blue. You can feel the fresh air as soon as you get up, and you don't even need to set an alarm clock, because in the original ecological lifestyle, you don't need an alarm clock, and the early bird will wake you up! Then stretch in the field in front of the house and brush your teeth and wash your face with the water drawn from the hole. You can even drink this water when washing your face, because it is sweet, and you can be refreshed all day after washing your face with this water.

I still pick tea in that tea garden. I like that tea garden very much. When I was a child, I would pick tea in this tea garden every time I came home from school. Although it is hard, it is this tea garden. My brother and I finished college. There is also a vegetable garden at home. My parents work hard season after season. With part of the cost of my brother and I going to school, we can still eat the vegetables in that garden when we go back. Very natural.

I remember planting rice for my family several times. In fact, at that time I was just learning to be an adult, pulling out seedlings and transplanting them in the fields. At least I'm happy at work.

Maybe I missed a lot of things, so it's hard to pour out all my feelings at once. Now I have grown up gradually, but now I have lost the comfort and freedom of rural life. Facing the hustle and bustle of real life and the city, I feel that houses and cars are waiting day by day, waiting for the work to be finished, and then repaying the loan with wages. I don't know what it is: standing at the bottom of society, shouting that no one can ever hear it, and the voice below the eighteenth floor of hell can't even reach the eighteenth floor of hell, breathing the turbid air in the reinforced concrete building, so the life I deeply miss is just a dream!

A friend lives in an island village, a natural village facing the sea and backed by mountains. A place where you can enjoy the sunrise in the morning and the beautiful sunset at night. At the end of the summer vacation, my friend got a driver's license and asked our little sister to go to her house.

Choose to go out in the evening when the sun is not strong, and drive a motorcycle along the island road to a friend's house. The summer heat is fading, and friends have prepared meals. Moving the dining table to the courtyard at the door is the most enjoyable way for rural residents of the island on summer nights. Several old ladies in the neighborhood helped to set the dishes and chopsticks, and a table of rich dishes was immediately presented to everyone.

Eating rich seafood, women chattered together. They discussed today's record on the mahjong table. Who always forgot to touch the cards, but the three gods of wealth didn't get along. Many of these rural daughter-in-law are from other provinces. After staying in one place for a long time, they also learned to do as the Romans do. Most families have built new houses, children are studying, husbands are trying to make money, and women occasionally do some work to supplement their families and spend more time on themselves. At three or five o'clock, several sisters get together, sometimes at whose house, or collectively drive to the city for a chic time. They have little education and low academic qualifications, but they are simple, enthusiastic and stuffy. I think their life happiness index is much higher than that of white-collar workers who work from nine to five in cities and are prepared for danger in times of peace every day.

My friend's house is next to the village square. When the light is on, a singing class begins to sing. On a small table tennis table made of red cloth, a man and a woman pose and sing the old Wenzhou saying. The man is in his seventies, his voice is hoarse, and the woman is a little young, with a pipa in her hand. After a melodious dulcimer and sandalwood prelude, the two have already sung in duet on the stage. In the huge square, many aunts and grandfathers have moved bamboo chairs with backrests and sat on the ground waiting for the performance to begin. Some of them catch mosquitoes and moths with cattail fans and listen carefully to the actors singing. Some people take out fishing nets, weave them skillfully, and listen to the old saying at the same time, which is true.

I heard from my friend's husband that these people will sell goods in the middle of the performance. "If they dare to fool these simple people and shoddy them, I will spare them." My friend's husband is a little wronged.

Sure enough, in the most wonderful aria, the actor said to have a rest, and then promoted the non-boiling pot under the billiard table. This pot is made of stainless steel. Double insulation, cooking and cooking soup are very practical, and the price is not cheap, more than 200 pieces. The old man who sang the lyrics also demonstrated the practice of cooking and soup on the spot, saying that please try it in the future. Then there is the promotion of drugs such as "Baiyang Ointment". It turns out that this free lyric performance is just a gimmick. Sure enough, soon someone went to buy drugs and carry pots. The friend said, "wait, there will be gifts distributed later." Everyone has it. As long as you are on the scene, there will be them. " . We want one, too, not for nothing. "

Come and join in the fun, and we will stand by and watch. Really, two young people came to share gifts with each other, one was Haima Fenggao and the other was a bracelet. Although things are not very valuable, it will cost a lot of money to distribute more than 100 copies.

A friend said that the lyrics performance and commodity promotion will be held for three consecutive days, bringing rich entertainment to rural people. This kind of activity is held several times a year, with convenient transportation, and more and more people come to the island village to seek gold. Yes, the gap between urban and rural areas is getting smaller and smaller, and one side of the water and soil can support one side. Who says not?

The night is getting deeper and deeper, and the lyrics performance is coming to an end. People have picked up chairs and gone home, ending the noise of the day and restoring the peace of the square. The mountain village is bathed in moonlight, and the waves are sparkling on the sea. You can hear the sound of the waves beating on the beach. The country sleeps peacefully in the silence of the night.

Essays on Country Life (3) In the early morning, the rooster put on his trousers early and fluttered with his companions, driving away the arrival of the sun. Wow, crows move around the village like gongs. The first thing that was driven away was really not the luster of the sun, but the smoke flying over the village. In the village, the earliest people who get up are still hardworking and simple villagers. Their hands are pulling the intimate silk thread, holding the family's hand, holding the hospitable arm and pushing the happy sleeve. This is the most magnificent, complicated and warm scenery. The smoke in the kitchen is their suspicion.

Cooking smoke is also a group of obscene. After all, they are raised by every family. But in mid-air, they are intertwined and can't tell which is yours and which is mine. Then, they are like mountain kids raised with corn, potatoes and white straws in the mountainous areas of western Hubei, playing hide and seek, playing house, escaping, shouting and frolicking with the enthusiasm of lambs and the wildness of calves. The shoes ran away, the braids were scattered, and the buttons were torn, but they still laughed, shouted, escaped and made noise as before. Paint the future of the village as a blue sky.

Kitchen smoke is also a group of dancers. Indulge in the tenderness of the wind, yearn for an open stage, and have the same popular connection as glue. In the pure and filtered sky, with the worst beautiful body and the worst beautiful dance, dance out all kinds of customs and jump out of the unyielding soul. Those bright eyes and tenacious will will go up and down forever, until the blue sky and Bai Yunfei, forever.

Smoke is the music of life. It is about the rich food on the plate and the poor harvest. As long as the cigarettes gather together, women's single hand becomes a pair of dancing butterflies, picking vegetables in the fields, scooping rice in jars, cutting meat on the kang, washing and panning. Or steaming, or boiling, or frying, or stewing, or frying and baking. That cabbage, radish, pepper, eggplant, pumpkin, tofu, bacon, etc., opened their colorful mouths and began to sing collectively. The basin, bowl, shovel, ladle and spoon lit up a clear throat and began to play endlessly. Idle to a table of dishes, it is sparkling affection, love, enthusiasm and happiness. What you chew in your mouth and drink in your mouth is bright, thin, delicious and bitter. The hand that sticks to the heart is an inexhaustible waterwheel, which moves endlessly and caresses the villages of the four seasons. The scattered pigs in the pen, the chickens raised in the pen, the ducks swimming in the river, the fish enjoying themselves in the pond, the sheep grazing on the slope, and the unpacked food in the barn have all become the sticks of life, and the songs in the village are not old, ensuring the continuous cooking. As long as there is no shortage of water for cooking, life will never stop and the heart will never stop rolling.

Cooking smoke is a group of boneless animals, good at expressing happiness, warmth, enthusiasm, pleasure and other passions. They are as popular as Qinshui, bubbling out from the cracks in tiles, cracks in doors, cracks in windows and chimneys. No one can stop them, they are full of excitement. Entering the sky is like cattle and sheep entering the open grassland and galloping casually. It is also like running water rushing into the vast ocean, rushing along with it. They preach, run and dance in the sky. Tear happiness into pieces of flags, twist warmth into strands of ropes, fly enthusiasm into kites, and twist pleasure into dance, which is lively, inferior and luxurious. My hometown, Ziniang Garden in western Hubei, experienced the worst famine. The famine was a ruthless sword that cut off the smoke in the village. The village filled with smoke is lifeless and silent as a rock, and all the valleys are full of desolation and depression. Only when the smoke is alive can the village be a lively picture.