Are there any beautiful sentences describing winter rain?

In the early winter morning, the sky is gray, and the cold and dense Sha Qi covers the whole world. The sun hasn't come out yet, and everything in winter is naked, with a cold breath. Cold, a clear sign that winter is coming. Watching the bleak autumn end its tenacious mission, I was overwhelmed by the irresistible domineering of winter in the falling leaves sky, only to find that the whole world has become the territory of cold air.

Winter rain, falling from the sky, mixed with ice drops like snow but not snow, hurts like a knife cut on the face. It's just that this winter rain scares you and chills you.

I often lament the magic of nature, rain and snow come to earth hand in hand! Rain and snow are sometimes annoying, but they are said to clean up the world.

Winter rain, although there has never been a beautiful praise of spring rain, has no complaints, silently telling people, predicting: my disappearance, white snowy days are just around the corner.

The winter rain, the last trace left by the warm atmosphere, has lost the pride of the summer storm and the gentleness of the autumn rain, and is just doing its bit to create a better world.

I put on my cotton-padded clothes and tried to experience the smell of winter rain. Before I came to my senses, my whole body was covered with its affection. It told me gently, don't say I am heartless. Although I am in the wrong season, we are also sons of nature and friends who walk with you in this world.

The world is quiet and innocent because of rain. The quietly falling winter rain has added a bit of harmony and beauty to this ordinary world, and dedicated everything to the freshness of this world, with no regrets.

2. The rain outside the window is falling and beating, dripping on the sleeping earth, sleeping house and sleeping heart. The reality of light rain, the lingering of light rain, aroused me from my dream, and my thinking could not withstand the provocation of winter rain, tossing and turning, and I could no longer be quiet with the earth and the night. The curtains are overturned, and the outside world is dark and dignified; It's rare to listen attentively, enjoy myself, and travel through the misty time and space, as if my thoughts are flying and lingering. I've seen the blue sky and white clouds thousands of times in ................................................................................................................................, dragged far away by the winter rain, but I dare not really look at myself. My heart is always trembling and shouting: Why does the real existence become hypocritical in the world? Why should people put on a nonchalant or even resolute face to cover up a fragile heart? Why do they want to suppress it to the maximum extent to escape their search and find out the answer! The earth is still asleep; It's still raining. The season is near the middle of winter, and God should have given us a magnificent scene of water, light and snow, but it is so irresistible to be disturbed by the untimely summer rain and autumn. People should learn to forget, since there is no, it means losing, and there is no need to live in the gap between pain and anxiety. Oh! Miss the winter rain, five flavors of life! The rain is still falling, which is the first rain since winter. I sat by the window and stared at the winter rain, feeling that it was so heartless and depressing.

Winter rain is ruthless. The rain quickly wet the earth, and the water in the depression blew bubbles, as if the earth were crying. The buttonwood trees on the roadside looked so helpless. The howling north wind, with rain, slaps the few remaining yellow leaves, yellow grass and unadjusted flowers with crystal tears, as if telling the misfortune of fate.

The rain in winter is even more depressing. Pedestrians on the road are holding umbrellas, tightening their necks and marching faster. The original plan to play ball with their classmates was also ruined, and the mood was even lower. With the thickening of clothes, we have lost our flexibility in the past, and it is estimated that it won't be long before the damn frostbite will climb on my fingers. Thinking about the sunshine in spring, the comfort in summer and the coolness in autumn, I'm staying at home now.

Four seasons of rain, I hate winter rain! The winter rain is not poetic, but cold and withered. The first rain in winter woke up in the morning and found that the winter rain was falling under the sand, sand. Sometimes it is mixed with some gentle snowflakes, which adds a bit of chill to the already cold weather. I don't know when it began to rain in winter in this northern country. In the world of rain, I like light rain, and I like light rain as fine as silk thread, especially in winter, which moistens things silently. In the cold winter, although the rain gives people a chill, it keeps people awake. After the first rain this winter, I typed this text about winter rain in front of the computer.

In the dead of night, sitting in front of the computer, although the double window is closed, it can't rule out the sound of rain. I wanted to describe this winter rain with a favorite poem, but I was surprised to find that almost all the poems I remember and know about rain were written by spring rain, summer rain or autumn rain, while lonely winter rain was rarely described by poets. In my memory, only Lu You's two sentences, "Sleeping in the middle of the night listening to the wind and rain, iron horse glacier dream", are written about the winter rain in the north. In my memory, there are few poems describing winter rain, but there are many poems describing winter rain in modern pop songs. I like Chyi Chin's Winter Rain very much. My favorite is Mai's Winter Rain, Don't cry in a foreign land.

Rain is sacred to nature. So I like the rain in four seasons. Exquisite spring rain, such as the first love girl, is shy and secretive; Rough summer rain, like an affectionate man, unrestrained and willful; Affectionate autumn rain, like lovers in love, lingering; Calm winter rain, like a woman in bad karma, is ruthless and often rains and snows to vent her grievances. Because I like rain, I like walking in the drizzle. No matter what season, there is no rain gear, I let the glittering and translucent rain beads beat my thick shawl hair at will, and let the gentle and cold rain caress my long eyelashes. After walking in the rain for a long time, I realized the delicacy of spring rain, the fullness of summer rain, the dignity of autumn rain and the naturalness of winter rain.

Winter rain, weaving winter love, is showering on the world, falling from the sky and drifting alone in the swaying window, and a long-lost loneliness emerges inadvertently at this time. In the past years, distant people and things waved to me in the vague light and shadow. Distant thoughts, tied feet, entangled into an untied knot, tied in my heart. There are different rain changes in the four seasons, and there are countless people with different stories in the world. In the eyes of these people with different stories, rain is naturally very different. On the frustrated people, the rain adds to the melancholy; Rain has a special taste for proud people. These differences are caused by people's mood. The so-called "everything I see is my color" is the truth.

The rain in winter is dancing, the cold wind is dancing, and the cold wind and cold rain at night are shaking and young. Winter rain floats in the cold sky and falls gently on the earth. The rain doesn't seem to be too heavy, but some raindrops hit the awning of the window, beating clearly and spreading far in the silent night. Listening to the dripping rain on the window lattice, the wind whistling through the thin treetops, just like the sound of nature, is the most beautiful note in the world. That wonderful note brought me to Chopin's Raindrops and the story behind it. Chopin and George? Sang lives in seclusion in a small town. One day, George? Sang and her daughter were caught in a heavy rain when they went out. They didn't go home until dusk. As soon as they entered the door, they saw Chopin playing a beautiful and sad tune there alone, crying while playing. Chopin saw them crying and said, "I thought you were all dead!" " "That song is raindrops. This song "Raindrops" is an impromptu fantasy that he thought his beloved had passed away on a stormy night. I never understood why Chopin had such a strange idea that the person he loved was dead. For an ordinary man, when his woman goes out in a storm, he should go out with an umbrella to pick her up, but Chopin didn't, so he is not an ordinary man. Perhaps it is because Chopin is not an ordinary person that he had a strange idea and created this meaningful "Raindrop"?

In the sound of "raindrops", everything seems so quiet. The rain outside the window came in through the window and reminded me of the existence of winter rain at the moment. Looking out of the window in a trance, it has been raining. There are no more stars and no more bright moon in the sky. In that bustling night scene, the colorful lights seem a little dim. Unexpected winter rain mixed with flowing snowflakes made me really feel the existence of winter. The night is getting deeper and deeper, and the winter rain seems to be getting bigger and bigger with the night. It is not delicious in spring, arrogant in summer, romantic in autumn, only cool and refreshing. On rainy nights, especially in winter, a quiet heart flies to the distance, for love, for missing, for hope. ...

It should be the season of snowflakes flying, but winter rain has occupied this long night. At midnight, in a warm room, I opened the transom that had been closed, and put my hand out of the window, so that the drizzle in early winter fell on my tired hand when I was typing on the keyboard, and I felt a fresh and cold feeling. The weight of the winter rain seems to be absent, dripping on my flexible fingers and touching my warm hands, which is very comfortable. It seems that the freezing rain in winter has gradually flowed into the heart that always contains my thoughts from my numb limbs through the infiltration in my warm palm. Listening to the music outside the window, accompanied by the light songs and dances of ice and rain, my mind is like water, melting into beautiful music with the winter rain in nature. My thoughts once again merged into the fantasy space, and together with the music of winter rain, drifted to the distant place where I was concerned.

Winter rain is an elegant poem and a lingering song. Come naturally, come without haste, impatience or anger. Walk quietly, walk carefree. It is neither as gentle as spring rain, nor as noisy as summer rain, nor as silent as autumn rain. Winter rain makes everything understand: don't miss the beauty of spring flowers, don't give up the passion of summer, don't indulge in the richness of autumn, and don't refuse the vitality of winter. It always treats everyone with a dull attitude, tolerance and loving eyes. You closed the window and closed the door, but it still lingers in your mind; Do you open the doors and windows or dribs and drabs? ...

The first rain this winter fell like this, for a day and a night. Still waving this morning. Under the cover of the cold rain in early winter, all the noise in the past was silent. The distant mountains and the nearby buildings are all thinking solemnly in the rain, and the tall and short trees on the roadside are silently accepting the gift of winter rain. On the street in the early morning, the vehicles lined up silently and drove slowly, and the people who traveled obviously thickened their clothes. They didn't complain too much, but just stepped up their walk. In this hurried walk, I saw that winter rain is a constant theme-cold, which proves to the world that winter here is not only a concept in the sense of solar terms, but also shows to the world that you can't see the splendor of the rainbow without experiencing wind and rain; Without the clouds of rainy days, there would be no bright sunshine!