The story details in the photo describe the composition.

1. The story composition of an old photo should have touching details, which is such an ordinary and extraordinary photo.

In the process of chatting, the story in the photo is a photo, "How can others laugh at you? Although grandma is old? " "Because my cousin is the oldest of your three children, and you and my cousin are grandparents' grandchildren, of course, next to grandparents. After drying the photos, my grandmother is grateful. You'd better eat! Then my father shouted, "Everybody look at me. "

Dad replied that my cousins and I just realized our mistakes. If others see me sitting next to my grandmother in the photo and record a story, they will think that I am a filial elder: "Grandma is old and my teeth are useless, so I will make them into plastic and keep them in an album;" A photo tells an experience; A photo, taken in the living room on the third floor of the new home.

I can see it clearly in the photo. On the fourth floor, my father asked me what I wanted to do. It taught me to respect and love my elders. On the first day of January, 200 1, my cousins and grandchildren took a group photo as a souvenir.

Know where you are sitting, and make excuses quickly! I happily went back to the living room on the third floor and walked briskly to the position where I took pictures. Will others laugh at me when they see me? ""You are wrong to think like this, "my father went on to teach me earnestly, which reminded me of a good boy with memories and love. A photo, full of emotion. It is such a small and meaningful photo, an ordinary and unusual photo, and this beautiful moment will remain in the camera forever.

I said to myself, "Why don't I sit in the middle?" My favorite photo, I still have a big apple on the plate on the table in front of me.

Every time I dig out this photo from the album, I still remember the story behind it. It was the first day of the first month when I was two years old. My grandparents are sitting on the sofa with their cousins and grandparents. Without my father, there would be no you! "I suddenly realized that not only will I not make fun of me!" I took the apple my grandmother left me and stared at the camera.

There was only a click. "But grandma is so old.

Grandma smiled and handed me back the apple. She said kindly and respectfully handed her a big apple, which made my thoughts fly back to ten years ago. My aunt came to my house to collect it. However, the happiness of our family today is the result of her decades of hard work. As the younger generation, we should respect and love her.

No grandmothers, cousins or uncles. There is a photo of such a story; A photo, my father asked me and my grandparents; A photo, give me a love education, let my father go to the fourth floor with me first, and there will be no father.

2. Story composition In the photo, the sun has already exposed its eyes, which are magical eyes. Ships in the harbor are floating on the water. The hills far and near are covered with orange and transparent colors. The sky has turned light blue, the clouds are illuminated by the glow, turned into light red, and gradually turned into light red and pink, and the orange velvet hat pokes its head out of the hiding place. Oh, that's the sun rising in the clouds, rising gradually, and the sun's rays begin to shine. It's almost dawn.

The sun came out completely, changing from dark red to light red. Wherever you look, you will see a golden sunrise.

At the top of the mountain, it was still dark, but the sky in the east was slightly fish-belly white, and several indomitable morning stars blinked in the sky. We looked down the hill, and in a hazy mist, the lights of Huang Chengcheng were vaguely left behind, like naughty children. oh Suddenly, the sunny scenery between heaven and earth has a panoramic view, and strange changes have taken place. What color is the fish-belly white? In the faint glow, I can't wait to see the panoramic view of the rising sun at once. But this is the law of nature. At this time, the blood ... the sun appeared, and the sunlight was not so strong. With the dawn of the sky, the surrounding clouds show a maple leaf-like red light, and the surrounding clouds are also red. I am very anxious and gradually fade away.

After a while, the thunder moon gate is close to the sky at the top of the mountain. The surrounding clouds are rosy, gather into a string of clouds, and finally become silver, radiant and flawless. It's a pink cloud, spreading slowly. What is that?

At this time, there is only one mouth left in the sun, which shines brilliantly, and I have no ability to change it.

I watched the sun come out bit by bit.

What is that? Like a gorgeous red scarf fluttering gently between the boundless heaven and earth, the shadows of people and trees slanted on the ground, breaking through the light gray dusk at once.

3. The story composition in a photo is 700 words. In my hazy mind, grandma will always be a silver line, and it is charming to smile with two curved lines. Father said grandma was beautiful when she was young. I believe my aunt is very beautiful. It is said that she is a copy of grandma. I don't have much emotional knowledge about my grandmother. There is only one old photo in my memory, and I can still capture her affectionate figure.

According to my parents, my grandmother is from Beijing. After she married her grandfather, she has been with him and has never left Beijing. Unexpectedly, grandpa died prematurely, leaving grandma alone.

In order to take care of my grandmother, my father went to Beijing several times and asked her to live with me. She refused to say anything. She can't let go of her home, a place full of feelings and tears.

It was not until I was born that my grandmother reluctantly left home and came to my parents to help my mother take care of the baby. According to my father, at that time, whenever I was free, my grandmother would stare at the north in a daze. My father knows that my grandmother is homesick, the old house that haunts her.

My father has been looking for an opportunity to take her back to my old house, but it backfired. When I was still learning English, my grandmother left this world with endless regrets. Whenever I mention it, my father's heart aches.

I remember when I was in fifth grade, I once talked about my grandmother. My father took out a photo. This is a photo of my parents and my grandmother, which is the only souvenir left by my grandmother.

In this four-inch black-and-white photo, grandma has silver hair and a beige coat, which may be the visual effect of the photo. There is no wrinkle on her white face, and her eyes seem to be smiling. Father said that grandma usually gives people the feeling that she is always smiling.

In the photo, grandma is sitting in front with a baby just born more than 100 days in her arms. My parents said it was me, "ah! How can it be so ugly? " At first glance, I carefully looked at the doll in the photo. Although as white as grandma, I can hardly find any other advantages: the spoon at the front door is sewn with small eyes. I didn't know it was closed. My parents just said it was open. At that time, I quickly looked at myself in the mirror: although my nose is not straight and my eyes are not big, basically my nose is my nose and my eyes are my eyes. Open is never closed! I turned my face, looked at my mother and pointed to the photo: "Is that me in the photo? Are you kidding? " Mother was angry and happy: "you child, you were fat at that time!" " You see, that arm, segment by segment, is like a lotus root segment by segment. In addition to meat on the face, it is meat. There is no room for five senses. It's good to have seams. That means grandma raised you well! "

Well raised? I am a pie lip, so ugly!

But grandma held my ugly child with a loving face. At this time, I found a new problem: the people in the photo are sitting or not sitting, standing or not standing, grandma leans back, dad leans forward, and mom stands upright beside dad, but her hands are dragging the chair and there is no posture. Take a closer look, only I have the most feeling of taking pictures. You see, although I seem to be asleep, I am leisurely leaning in my grandmother's arms, exquisite and very angelic.

I studied the photos carefully, trying to find the answer from the details: how strange! As a father, he should not stand like this. My father is a man who pays great attention to details. He usually works methodically, carefully and never hesitates. Especially your manners and clothes. No matter what material it is, as long as it is worn on dad, it must be clean, lilisuosuo. I have seen many personal photos of my father when he was young. They are all dressed in handsome pens.

Suddenly, I suddenly understood and said to my parents with regret, "The photo studio is so irresponsible. Everyone took pictures before posing. Why don't they ask for a new photo? "

Mom smiled after listening: "I don't blame the photo studio, it's all to make you feel better." At that time, you were very fat, wrapped in a thick mattress in winter, and very bloated. Your grandmother was small and had short arms. She didn't dare to hug you hard, saying it would hurt you, but she was afraid of falling. "When my mother said this, I was deeply moved: I accepted such a high salary and still don't know anything! I really found the happiness of "I'm afraid to put it in my mouth, but I'm afraid to drop it in my hand". What a pity! At that time, I was still young and didn't know what care was. Suddenly, I envy this ugly child for no reason.

Mother continued to tell the scene as if it happened right in front of her eyes: "When taking pictures, in order to avoid" hugging "you, grandma dared not hug you again, but tried to make her arm ring bigger, so that her whole body became a reclining posture, with her back and back in a triangle and her center of gravity on the back of the chair. In order to keep the chair stable, your father had to press the chair hard with both hands to prevent the stool from tipping over. As a result, various postures appeared in the photo. ...

The story of the photo is over, and my words are over. But I tell you, it's strange that since I saw grandma's photo, grandma in my mind is no longer a title or a symbol. She filled my mind and became beautiful and familiar.

Author: Mu Hui Yu Fei

4. Compose the story in the photo. Then there is the composition contest. I wrote the story in the photo.

Hebei province fengningmanzu autonomous county 3 rd primary school

Aosizhe, Class 5, Grade 6

In my photo album, there is a photo of Zhang Zhengui. That was a photo taken when I was 5 years old and my family went to Baiyun Ancient Cave for the first time. My family and I are standing on the high mountain. The background of this photo is blue sky and wild flowers. We are looking at beautiful scenery. ...

My mother was still very young at that time, only in her thirties, with no wrinkles on her face. She was dressed simply, with a 90' s black dress on her upper body and a blue apron on her lower body, which was the best according to the economic level of my family at that time. Standing next to my mother is me in a red jacket. Because I am the youngest, I am very attached to my mother. I have a bottle of water in my right hand, and my mother holds my left hand. There are a few tears on his face, pouting, and no joy on his face. That's because my mother didn't agree to buy a toy plane when I went up the mountain. Next to me is my sister, who is in the first grade and doesn't look very mature either. She was wearing a yellow jacket and blue jeans, her hands were "yeah" and she was grinning. Next to my sister was my father, who was just thirty years old. He is wearing a gray Chinese tunic suit and a pair of short-sighted glasses, which makes him look particularly energetic. Dad smiled and touched his sister's head. This is the first time for our family to travel abroad. Due to the limited economic level, we didn't buy any souvenirs, just in the scenic spot of our hometown. But the whole family seems to be happy. This trip left a deep impression on me, which I will never forget. ...

With my father's "dinner", my thoughts came back to reality.

I looked at the photo again, and a smile appeared on my lips. How great changes have taken place in my family in just a few years! My family lived in a tall building and my living standard improved. My parents dress in fashion, too. My sister has been admitted to the university. Now, I have grown up and will soon be promoted to junior high school. I will study hard and try to get into an ideal university.

I believe the society will be better in the near future!

I wrote it myself. It's best not to copy, but to write.

thank

5. The excellent composition time of "The Story in the Photo" of 500 ~700 words is like running water, which flows quietly day and night. I also grew from a little girl who loves to cry to a little girl who knows how to write tears in a notebook. Put down the dusty photo album for a long time, and my thoughts began to roll. I touch every photo, and every photo tells a story about me and my childhood. My eyes suddenly stopped at a photo with some yellow edges, and I smiled happily.

In this photo. There is a little girl wearing a skirt with croissants. She was crying in the sky. This is me. There is also a big boy who eats lollipops and laughs badly, and that is my brother.

I remember it was an autumn, and my mother bought me a big and beautiful lollipop from the store. My brother wants to eat it, too. If I don't give it to him, he will give me bad brains.

He lied to me that he could find a bigger and more beautiful lollipop in my mother's car basket, and whoever got it got it. I really want it, so I have to get it At that time, I was too short to reach the basket, so I asked my brother to hold the lollipop for me, and I moved the stool to turn over my mother's basket.

I didn't find a lollipop in the basket. I was just about to ask my brother. Looking back, he was eating my lollipop! I thought he wanted it, but he never gave it to me, so I just sat on the ground and cried. It happened to be photographed by my aunt who just bought a camera.

It's been seven or eight years since this happened. Now think about it. I was really cute at that time. This is the story that happened in my photo.

6. The story in the photo was written in 500 words.

A photo, recording a story; A photo tells an experience; A photo evokes a memory; A photo, full of emotion. It is such a small and meaningful photo, an ordinary and extraordinary photo, which is worth collecting.

My favorite photo was taken on the first day of 200 1 year 1 month in the living room on the third floor of my new home. The photo clearly shows me sitting on the sofa with my cousin, grandparents and grandparents. I still have a big apple on the plate on the table in front of me. Every time I dig out this photo from the album, I still remember the story behind it.

It was the first day of the first month when I was two years old. My grandparents and my cousins, uncles and aunts came to my home. During the chat, my father asked me to take photos with my grandparents and cousins. Knowing where I was sitting, I hurried to find a reason for my father to accompany me to the fourth floor first.

Up to the fourth floor, my father asked me what I was going to do. I said to myself, "Why don't I sit in the middle?" "Because my cousin is the oldest of you three children, and you and my cousin are the grandchildren of grandparents, of course you should be next to them." Dad replied. "But grandma is so old. If others see her, will she laugh at me? " "You are wrong to think so," my father went on to educate me earnestly. "How can others laugh at you? Although grandma is old, she has gone through decades of hardships for the happiness of our family today. As the younger generation, we should respect and love her. No grandma, no dad, no dad, no you! " I suddenly realized that I had just made a mistake. If others see me sitting next to my grandmother in the photo, they will not make fun of me, but will think that I am a good boy who respects my elders and is full of love!

I happily returned to the living room on the third floor, walked briskly to the position where I took pictures, and handed a big apple to my grandmother with full respect. Grandma smiled and handed me back the apple. She said kindly, "Grandma is old and her teeth are useless. My dear grandson is grateful. You still eat! " Then my father shouted, "Look at me!" I took the apple my grandmother left me and stared at the camera. There was only a click, and this wonderful moment remained in the camera forever. After drying the photos, I took them into plastic and collected them in an album.

There is a photo of such a story; A photo makes my thoughts fly back to ten years ago; A photo, give me a love education. It is such an ordinary and extraordinary photo that taught me to respect and care for my elders. Only in this way can we make our life better, our family happier and our society more harmonious.

7. Composition: The story in the photo is 400 words in a hurry. In a blink of an eye, I changed from a little girl who loves to cry to a girl who has ideals and knows how to hide crystal tears in the depths. Is it just time that passes in the process of growing up?

Open the dusty photo album and let your thoughts flow inside. I finally understand that the most lost time is the song-like years of childhood.

Inadvertently, my eyes came into contact with this photo. For me, this is an extremely outstanding and precious old photo. In the photo, my sister and I reached out to the blue sky to meet the dazzling sliding fireworks.

Yes, it was the Spring Festival. Because of the need of dad's work, we have to leave our hometown and grandparents. When I was a child, I was very headstrong. At the thought of parting from my friends, I hid in the hut and cried. Even during the Spring Festival, I am not happy. Grandparents know that this will be their last Spring Festival in their hometown. In order to enliven the family atmosphere, they encouraged their father to buy fireworks. Grandpa sang a Beijing opera that he hadn't sung for years.

I don't understand why the parting time is so lively.

My grandparents told me that my sister and I should strive to win honor for our family and give each of us a little poem.

Dad set off fireworks and watched the charming sparks rippling in the air. My sister and I reached into the sky excitedly. At that moment, the camera left this eternal beautiful moment.

Just as we turned around, I was shocked. The whole family stood looking at us, just watching, and the silent air could not help but turn into snowflakes.

From the eyes of my family, I seem to see the warm current of love; That long ribbon of love; That rock-solid hope.

It is true that the years have passed like a song, but the true feelings and hopes buried since childhood still exist; Even if the seas run dry and the rocks crumble, the affectionate eyes will always be my motivation.

This hopeful photo not only records my smiling face when I was a child, but also records the brilliant night sky in my hometown.

8. How to write the story (composition) in the photo? When a photo falls, the story of the photo is written.

Oh, that's it, that's the old photo treasured in the depths of memory. It was that unforgettable trip that made me understand the meaning of courage and realize masculinity.

When I was ten years old, my father and I went to Du Jiang, Yu Zui. On the morning when I got drunk in Dujiang, it was gray. After a while, it really rained.

It was the rain that hindered our trip. It was not until noon that my father and I arrived at the scenic spot. After getting off the bus, I saw an iron cable bridge about 200 meters long.

We have just learned the text "Flying over Luding Bridge". The cable bridge in front of us is a little better than the iron cable bridge in this paper. It is covered with wooden boards with a spacing of about five centimeters. Dad said we should cross the bridge.

I panicked: Dad, I'm scared! What if I fall? It doesn't matter, my son is a man and the bravest. Dad said with a smile.

Encouraged by my father, I stepped on the board with trembling hands. I don't know. As soon as I stepped on it, the board shook. I was scared and panicked. The board wet by the rain slipped from my feet and fell to the ground on all fours.

Dad looked at me trembling and dared me: whoever doesn't walk by himself is a little mouse! I was competitive and fell into my father's trap, shouting: Throwing caution to the wind, who is afraid of who! So clap * * * hit the road again. One step, two steps, three steps … I move forward slowly like a snail.

Dad, the bridge is moving! I'm scared! I stood there clutching the chains on both sides, afraid to move. Is the bridge going to break? Jingjing, run! Dad's voice came from behind.

I listened, my heart racing, afraid to look back at my father. Just then, with a whoosh, a little boy about my age ran past me.

I was surprised and admired that he walked so lightly and steadily. He can go, but I can't, okay? An inexplicable force rises from my heart, and I want to be fearless and go forward like him! So I rushed to chase him.

Strange to say, at this time, the bridge stopped shaking and the boards at the foot stopped slipping. Walking on the ground in peacetime makes no difference. On the other side, after a while, father arrived.

Far away, he gave me a thumbs-up and took a photo with me, saying that he would commemorate the birth of a brave little boy. After taking the photo, he proudly said that he shook the chain behind him, put me in danger and ran away. This was a great move.

How did he know that it was not his tactics that worked, but a brave little boy who gave me courage?

9. The story in the photo was written in 700 words in the first day of junior high school.

Opening the old photo album at home, I saw the yellow photos.

That's a photo taken by my mother and uncle when they were children. The mother in the photo is about seven or eight years old, wearing a small cloth jacket with a square collar, a pair of trousers, holding the trunk and smiling brightly. It seems that she is going to climb the tree. And my uncle, carrying a big bamboo pole more than three meters long, doesn't know what to do. I don't know until I ask my mother that they will know enough shells. In those days, cicada slough was a good Chinese herbal medicine. Every summer vacation, the children of every family will get up early and go to the Woods in the village to find cicada shells with small baskets and long bamboo poles. My brothers and sisters climbed the tree to find the cicada's shell, while my brothers and sisters helped to pass the bamboo pole and pick up the cicada's shell, which was very tacit. Children often start early in the morning with dry food and don't go home until dark. At this time, their small basket is full of cicada shells, while the small basket with cover is full of cicadas that have not yet returned their shells.

After returning home, they washed and dried cicada shells every few days and sent them to the pharmacy in the town, so that the tuition fee for one year would be settled. When the harvest is good, the extra money can also buy some school supplies! Cicada, which is not fully hatched in a small basket, is another rare food for people. Every night when cicadas are hatched, children can't wait to wash the tender cicadas, clamoring for adults to put them in the pot and fry them, and then sprinkle some salt to eat delicious. There are even greedy children like cats. On the way to the pharmacy to sell cicadas, they secretly hide a few cicadas, fry them in the oil pan when adults are not paying attention to cooking, and then put them in their mouths to eat them with relish. Do you know what delicious food was for children at that time?

This yellowed black-and-white photo seems to have brought me into my mother's childhood, and let me share that wonderful and happy time with my mother!

10. The story in the photo of the fifth grade composition "Story in the photo"

In my photo album, there is a photo, and every time I see this photo, I always blush. At that time, I was six. Naively, I held a mop. You may ask, why do I blush when I see this photo? I will tell you slowly ...

When you were young, your mother would weigh you and measure your height every few months. I remember one day when I was six years old, I heard my mother say excitedly, "Ah, Tingting has grown two centimeters in three months!" " Grandma, who was mopping the floor, quickly put down the mop, picked me up and said happily, "Hey, the baby has grown taller. In the future, we should eat more rice and eat more nutritious and delicious food, so that we can grow faster. "

At this time, praised by my grandmother, I was looking at the mirror happily. Suddenly, I saw the mop next to the mirror. I look around. Gee, I accidentally found the mop as high as my height. "Ah, I know how old the mop is!" I shouted in surprise, as if I had discovered a new continent. My mother and grandmother looked at each other in surprise and asked inexplicably, "Does the mop have an age?" I said solemnly, "can't you use your head?" Six years old, of course! " Mother asked doubtfully, "Why?" "Because the mop is as tall as me!" I'm proud to say. Suddenly, the whole family laughed their heads off. Mother stifled her laughter and said, "Alas, silly child, mops have no height, only a useful life!" " ""no! "I said coquetry." Oh, let's listen to Tingting! "Grandma comforted me. Mother said solemnly, "well, in memory of Tingting and the mop being as tall as today, I'll take a picture of you two." So "click", leaving this special photo.

Now it has grown a lot, and the mop only reaches the armpit. Because of that special friendship, I still don't want to lose it!