The bird in the snow wrote 600 words.

On New Year's Day, the sky was gray and there was no wind. The earth seems to be sleeping. Unconsciously, an unexpected guest came.

Snowflakes fall quietly and fly all over the sky. I looked out of the window, lost in thought, and several birds woke me up. My eyes stayed on the bitter lotus tree, and I saw the bare branches of the bitter lotus and the heavy fruits hanging on the treetops. A dozen Chinese Pulsatilla stood in the snow and pecked at the fruit with their fingers. Snowflakes wet their feathers and continue to peck at the fruit with relish.

The snow is getting heavier and heavier, and the surrounding scenery is covered. The snow fell on the ground, on the balcony, on the roof ... the birds were still pecking at the fruit and didn't mean to leave at all. Some birds peck at the fruit, some stand motionless on the branches, some stand on the branches and look into the distance ... under the snow, on the feathers of the birds, on the treetops, the birds are simply one. I am very anxious at the moment, and I feel like an ant on hot bricks. ...

The whole town is covered with snow and surrounded by the world of snow. Birds are dying, and I'm scared. Fifteen minutes later, a large number of birds flew away in droves. They left with regret and frustration. At this time, there is only one bird left. Facing the cold, it kept pecking at the fruit. It stood and stood, and my heart suddenly lifted. I looked at Pulsatilla, and it didn't move. Twenty minutes later, Pulsatilla staggered away with food in her mouth. Leaving only snowflakes flying all over the sky, falling down. ...

The bird in the snow struggled tenaciously, braved hardships and dangers in the wind and rain, and worked tenaciously to write a beautiful chapter.