Beautiful hibiscus prose

Before the morning fog subsided and the sun broke away from the thick clouds, we drove to our school along the new 320 National Road. The road is good, the car is speeding, and my eyes can't help but look at the pastoral scenery that flashed outside the window. When crossing a long slope, I accidentally caught a glimpse of some brilliant red in the green isolation belt. In the dull dark green, I suddenly added a strong vitality, suddenly lit up the foggy morning, making our short trip a little more lively.

What kind of flower is this? When I take a closer look, the short isolation belt dotted with brilliant red has already been left behind the car. What kind of flower is this? How do you know each other so well? I searched repeatedly in my mind. Yes, I finally remembered that it was hibiscus; By the way, it is the kind of bowl flower that the villagers often say.

Finally see this long-lost hibiscus again!

I don't know why the villagers call it a bowl of flowers. But I still clearly remember the warning of adults to children, don't play with this flower, or you will accidentally break the bowl when eating. At that time, a bowl was very valuable. Breaking a bowl, the crisp and harsh sound of breaking sounds like thunder to parents, which makes them jumpy. I don't know how many points I have to earn to buy a bowl. Of course, I can't remember how many bowls I broke when I was a child, but I know I must have broken more than one or two. Every time I walk around with my rice bowl, my hand slips and the bowl falls to the ground. Every time the bowl falls to the ground, it will break into four or five petals, just like the petals of a torn hibiscus flower, which can never be pieced together into a complete flower. So, I sat there crying with a broken bowl, and several chickens and dogs came around and spilled food all over the floor. Then, he began to be angry with chickens and dogs and ran after him with tears in his eyes. It seems that the chicken flew, and the dog jumped up to disturb himself and broke the bowl. The chicken flapped its wings and wailed and ran away, and the dog left with its tail between its legs and its nose humming, leaving only one person to continue crying and cry for himself-you can't escape being beaten by adults; I cried even more for the broken bowl-what a good bowl! I accidentally broke it and can't put it back.

This is a painful memory of Furong, accompanied by childhood tears, so it is particularly real. Furong brought me not only pain, but also sweet happiness.

In early summer and May, weeping willows are blowing on the ground, and thick green leaves are touching people's faces. Loquat is yellow, Myrica rubra is red, and golden wheat is sickle-shaped. The village is a paradise for children with piles of tall threshed wheat straw. Dig a hole, get in, and hide in it for people to find. Dig two holes, one at each end and keep the middle clear. We are very happy to do such a grand game project. Tired, I lie on my back and watch the moon, the stars and the flashing fireflies flying around the wheat field. ...

At this time, hibiscus flowers are also in full bloom for the second time. Red is better than fire, as white as a cloud. In front of the hall and behind the house, beside the garden ditch, there are flowers in full bloom. I wonder how many varieties of hibiscus flowers there are. It is said that there are not only red and white colors, but also single and double petals. But when I was a child, I saw only red and white, and they were all single petals. The hibiscus blooms, as if blowing the horn of summer. A column of pollen in the middle of the flower, the wind blows the flower, and the style is golden. Go ahead, stop staring and pick a bowl of flowers. Under the orders of adults, I picked hibiscus flowers, and when I saw them in full bloom, I pinched them with my hands. I choose to remove sepals and stamens, leaving delicate petals. After washing, cooking and drinking soup, the entrance is smooth and delicious.

The sweet memory of this hibiscus flower is accompanied by the delicious childhood, so it is particularly true. Furong brought me not only pain and sweetness, but also the memory of labor.

Farmers are the most restless. Winter goes and spring comes, new vegetable fields are ploughed and a slope of wasteland is reclaimed. Villagers often plant hibiscus branches around them. Cut the branches from the old branches, cut them into two long strips and insert them into the soil. Soon, after the rain, they couldn't help sprouting on the branches. A month or two later, a green fence began to take shape, and it was no longer so easy for chickens to peck at leaves in the garden. In a year or two, it will be a square green Great Wall. How can such hibiscus flowers compare with bluegrass and purple kites that are only used for viewing? In this way, it is simply integrated into the lives of farmers and protects their homes.

There are seven things for farmers to do when they open the door. "firewood" is the first thing in this wood, and every household must always prepare some dry firewood. Wet wood doesn't catch fire easily. If the peasant woman is allowed to burn live wood, it is necessary for the housewife to scold the men at home for being lazy. When men are idle in the fields, they chop wood, and then cut off some hibiscus branches before going up the mountain. The tips of two long hibiscus branches are tied together to make a binding tape, which is an excellent material for binding firewood. You don't have to worry that this tough bond will break and make a fool of yourself when you pick a load of firewood from the mountain. During the weekend holiday, we also learned from adults to use hibiscus branches as binding straps to cut wood. Then, we walked hunched for a while, rested for a while, carried a bundle of small firewood on our backs, and went home proudly in the twilight when the smoke was filled.

I have a simple memory of hibiscus flowers in the firewood cutting work here. This kind of memory is undoubtedly particularly vivid.

I haven't seen hibiscus for years! There are fewer and fewer vegetable gardens, and there is no need to plant hibiscus in the remaining vegetable gardens to prevent chickens from pecking. We don't have to work hard to get firewood up the mountain, and of course we don't need the tough hibiscus branches. Our menu is so rich that this flying insect crawls around with the dusty hibiscus. Can I eat?

I don't know, I can't say the answer. But when I wrote these words, my eyes seemed to have changed into hibiscus flowers: around the farmhouse garden mixed with morning fog, the lush leaves were covered with fine dewdrops, and the white flowers and red flowers stained with dewdrops trembled slightly. Each one was like a trumpet, shining in the sun, as if playing a warm and cheerful pastoral orchestra. ...

Chapter two: hibiscus

Hibiscus is a wonderful flower here, which I never knew before. The only impression is that I have seen a well-known and unknown writer describe it in textbooks or extracurricular reading.

Knowing hibiscus is accidental. I stayed in the village in May and in a rural primary school. Because I worked as a teacher ten years ago, the rural primary school in my impression is generally one or two rows of blue-tiled houses, four or five classes of innocent and lively children, seven or eight well-dressed teachers, and more than ten acres of rugged campus ... However, when I stepped into this primary school, the scene in front of me surprised me: where is this rural primary school, it is obviously more beautiful than the primary school directly under the city where I once taught. The ivory-colored teaching building stands dignified and generous at the northern end of the campus. There is melodious reading sound in the spacious and bright classroom. In the unique garden in the center of the campus, red sunflowers, white orchids and colored Chinese roses are in full bloom, as well as some red chestnuts, Sophora japonica and cedar. There are several unnamed tree species around them. Later, the headmaster told me that it was hibiscus.

The curved trunk supports the crown of Nuoda, with autumn chrysanthemum-like leaves full of green trees and purple flowers (strictly speaking, ultraviolet powder) dotted among them. Because the trees are big and green, it is difficult to find these exotic flowers and plants without looking carefully. Hibiscus flowers are not charming, apricot flowers are shy, pear flowers are tender and white, and wintersweet is hot.

Out of admiration, out of an inexplicable but very strong "curiosity and inquiry", my observation of Furong and my understanding of school teachers have enriched my leisure time in the village. The headmaster is a middle-aged man, hospitable, enterprising and responsible. Although the distance between school and home is 100 meters, it is difficult to go home once a week. I once talked with him about his life and the earth-shaking school. I have also consciously or unconsciously observed teachers teaching knowledge with pointers on the three-foot platform, writing lesson plans by candlelight, and carefully correcting homework. At this moment, I seem to be much younger, as if I were integrated into this team and returned to the teaching time of that year. For them, just as I know Furong, I am going through the process of emotional change from first acquaintance to closeness, and from closeness to admiration. Because of this change, communication with each other has also increased.

I can't remember the date. It is raining spring rain outside the window. I sat alone at my desk, sorting my thoughts and leafing through the newspaper. I can't help looking at the hibiscus flowers outside the window. Perhaps because of the spring breeze in the campus last night, a young hibiscus tree leaned against the wall. I propped up my umbrella and walked out of the door, just about to help it up. At this time, the "dress" with red and purple floated over. Oh, yes.

During the conversation, I learned that she was a new teacher who just graduated last year. Influenced by her mother, she applied for normal school and engaged in teaching. Her mother is a retired teacher. She has never left the three-foot platform in her life and trained a large number of talents, including the current principal. In the dead of night, she often accompanied her mother to savor the letters from students from all over the motherland and share their happiness of success. She was drunk and infected. She told me that she should follow the example of her mother. She also told me that she likes hibiscus flowers. With the voice of the lotus, * * *. With the sound of reading approaching the classroom, I sometimes look back at the hibiscus tree we held up. Watching her go away, my eyes turned to the hibiscus flowers in the rain. This reminds me of the strange color of hibiscus flowers and the dialectic between purple and pink. Is it red or purple? The change from red to purple is the accumulation of internal energy, the absorption of the outside world and the enrichment of itself. This is not the true color of hibiscus, it should be an extroverted rose with bright colors. Hibiscus changes from purple to red, and then from pan-color to pink. Otherwise, how can it turn purple inside, and the more it goes outside, the lighter it becomes, and it gradually turns pink and white? This is a release of one's own energy and a dedication to the outside world. This is hibiscus.

In the phantom, the faint hibiscus flower turned into a faint "dress", and the faint "dress" turned into a quiet little teacher H, a mother of a little teacher H with silver hair and a hard-working gardener. ......

Hibiscus flowers, quiet flowers, dedicated flowers, teachers' flowers. ......

Chapter three: hibiscus outside the window

After the lease of the office building expired, we moved to the factory. The environment of the factory is beautiful. There are green lawns, willows, rockeries, fountains and bamboo everywhere. Occasionally, I can hear the gentle and melodious songs of birds. What moved me most about all this was the 10 hibiscus tree in front of the office window.

Hibiscus, also known as morning glory, is a deciduous shrub or small tree of Hibiscus in Malvaceae. It blooms in summer and autumn, and the flowering period is 6-65438+ 10 month. Although each flower only blooms for one day, a large number of flowers bloom every day. It is often used as a hedge, a single plant, a row plant or as a background for other shrubs in the garden.

I remember when I first moved into the office, I didn't like the hibiscus flowers outside the window. At that time, those gray-brown hibiscus trees with fallen leaves and bare bodies stood in front of them in the cold wind, which seemed extremely desolate and lonely. In order not to be sad, I paid little attention to them all winter.

The weather is getting warmer and warmer, and the pace of spring is getting closer and closer. On the bare branches outside the window, buds began to appear ... Inadvertently, a green ocean appeared. Many diamond-shaped egg-shaped leaves among the branches were green, with moist soft light, which looked quiet and Wen Ya, spotless, vibrant and graceful.

Gradually, I began to like the 10 hibiscus flowers outside the window. Every morning, the first thing I do when I get to the office is to open the window and let the green sea rush in. After unfolding slowly in my eyes, I reluctantly turned around, turned on the computer and started a day's work.

It's summer in a blink of an eye, and the hibiscus flowers outside the window are more green and lush. The crooked branches are covered with dense, smart and lovely flowers and bones. Some of them are wrapped in green, like a string of green beads, and some have taken off their green clothes to reveal red buds, shyly hiding in the green leaves, quietly waiting to bloom. With a little delicate red deeply hidden in the green leaves, it slowly spread and spread around. In the early morning after a rain, thousands of pink hibiscus flowers are blooming noisily on the vibrant green sea, and the delicate petals as thin as cicadas are slightly wrinkled, as if tied by a belt at the flower pedicle, and a ray of golden sunshine is sprinkled on it, which is more beautiful. Breeze blowing, patches of flowers like clouds, happily floating on the green sea!

Although every blooming flower can't escape the fate of blooming, they still smile so beautifully and bloom so brilliantly!

The hibiscus flowers outside the window bloom and thank, thank and bloom, day after day. With their love and persistence in life, they have been blooming from hot summer to golden autumn.

In autumn, hibiscus flowers don't bloom as much as in summer. They were scattered on the branches in twos and threes. Although they are not as lively and prosperous as in the past, every blooming hibiscus flower is still so gorgeous. They have not lost their luster because of the passage of time. On the contrary, they are more charming and amorous feelings after years of polishing, adding a touch of charming pink to this golden season in Huang Chengcheng!

Looking at this healthy, fresh and energetic hibiscus outside the window, my heart becomes clear and transparent. Flowers, like Buddha dust, sweep away the musty dust accumulated in my mind for too long, let me raise the sail of hope again, work hard with confidence and smile, and live happily! Life is as short as a meteor, and there is no reason why we should not strive to leave more glory for the world and ourselves when life is burning vigorously.