Writing snow prose

Snow is beautiful, lovely and sharp. When it snows, only those who dare to challenge and fear the cold can share the true beauty that nature has given us. The following are four essays on snow scenes that I collected. Welcome to read the reference!

Chapter 1: I rush to the snowy winter and the early morning when autumn leaves fall. I took the thin piece of paper that decided my future and destiny, left Dashan and my father, and went all the way west to report to the distant Aba grassland. After the car climbed over the mountain, it was completely exposed in the bare wilderness, like a boat in the bumpy sea, and it was in danger of being overturned by huge waves at any time. This is my first time to enter the grassland. Endless meadow, low and deep sky, thick and light catkins, like a long-lost dream, opened my imprisoned heart and eyes. However, after a brief novelty, I was pushed to pessimism by the huge emptiness outside myself: What will be waiting for me in this vast expanse? Will I get lost in this rambling air?

At noon, the bus arrived at Zoige, the first stop of my trip, and stopped. The driver said he would transfer from Gannan to Aba tomorrow morning. Sadly, I dragged my quilt and suitcase and signed up at the shabby inn at the station. It was September, and miraculously, there was heavy snow in Zoige, snowflakes flying all over the sky, and the evil wind scraped the bones. The sudden drop in temperature below zero caught me off guard. This confusing snow, this icy cold, aggravated my loneliness and pessimism about the future and destiny. I was depressed and extremely depressed, wrapped in a sheepskin coat that my father forced me to bring, warming myself under the bed and looking at the rust on the wall.

In the afternoon, I was so hungry that I went out in the snow, found a small restaurant, lifted the heavy cotton curtain, sat on the innermost table and asked for a bowl of beef noodles. Although this restaurant is not big, four tables are arranged closely together with a stove in the middle. The fire is booming and the room is warm and fragrant. My body and spirit are warmer. There are only two guests in the room, one is me and the other is an old woman sitting at the door wearing a thick Tibetan robe. The old lady has high cheekbones, deep eye sockets, wrinkles like knife marks, and a face like dried black cowhide. And her eyes, like hard eagle eyes, have been burning in my face. For an instant, I timidly lowered my head and pretended to appreciate the greasy flowers on the tablecloth. The old lady pushed her luck, took out a bottle of things from her pocket, slammed it on the table and shouted at me. I pretended not to hear or understand, and continued to pretend to appreciate the residual flowers on the table. After a while, the female boss came out to help me out and said, the old woman sees that you are cold, so please drink to warm yourself up. Why don't you be friendly to her? Buy me a drink? I looked up at the white face of the female boss and the black face of the old woman. Their expressions look like a false trap. How can I drink with a stranger with fierce eyes when I first come to the grassland in a strange place? What should I do if they conspire to hurt me? Should I drink? Just as I hesitated, the old woman sat opposite me with a wine bottle, asked for two paper cups and drank the wine. Pass a glass of wine to my lips. It seems that I can't help drinking. I put my heart in a horizontal position and spat carefully. The fire suddenly burned my face and stomach, which was very useful. The old woman giggled, the boss laughed, and I pinched my face. As soon as I opened my mouth, the old lady relented. She knows that I don't understand Tibetan and I'm too lazy to talk nonsense. She gulped down the wine and urged me to drink it. In the blink of an eye, we killed half a bottle of tempting. Beef noodles are coming up. I was going to please her. In order to repay her wine, I asked my boss to give the old woman half a bowl, and we both ate and drank. Under the action of alcohol, soon, my stomach began to tumble, my whole body caught fire, I sweated profusely, and even sprayed warm air on my head. Confused, I changed my passive situation and began to raise glasses frequently, forcing the old woman to drink and sending the wine directly to her mouth. The proprietress scraped off my cotton-padded jacket. I can't care so much anymore. I can do whatever I want. Later, I don't remember anything.

The next morning, when I woke up, I found myself lying in a bed in a small hotel. The warm sunshine fell on my face through the window lattice, like a dog's warm tongue. I rubbed my eyes, knocked on my head and meditated for a while. Suddenly, I left the bed like my ass was on fire, got out of bed, opened my suitcase, and counted things as usual: my wallet is still there, money is not lacking, and my cotton-padded jacket is still there ... At this moment, the hotel waiter came to call me. Seeing this scene, he seemed to understand and said, young man, you were drunk last night. An old Tibetan woman and a Hui girl found several hotels and finally sent you here. Hey hey, did you drink well yesterday? Did you sleep well last night? I seem to have been found out about my shady privacy, and my face flushed and I was speechless. The waiter smiled and said, let me help you with the box. Here comes the bus. You should hit the road.

Along the way, looking at the sunny snowflakes outside the window, my heart was bright. I was suddenly driven by a kind of warmth, full of energy and perseverance, heading west and west towards that snowy winter.

Chapter 2: It snows in Kongtong, which is very good.

Looking at the chaotic sky, dusty snowflakes, like some fragments of time, float down from the boundless. I looked up, my eyes shining with crystal coolness. My eyes were like a train of time, crossing the snow-covered tunnel, reaching Taixu and reaching the distant ancient century. ...

This is a world of ice and snow. Heaven and earth are the same color, empty, the sky is missing, the stars are chaotic, the goddess flies, and the five-color stone is used to make up for the lack of the sky. In September, 19981year, the alchemy stone of the goddess was built very high, reaching the extreme of heaven, and the broken sky was repaired, leaving the remaining stones in the world. Every time it snows, a voice comes from the vast sky: the first mountain in the west! Xilai first mountain!

Nu Wa created human beings and Kongtong. Since then, there has been such a mountain in the west of Longdong Plateau. Every hole in the mountain is left by the melting of stones. The Millennium snowstorm blew coldly, and there was a mysterious sound in the cave. Snowstorms blow the old year after year, changing the delivery of mountains and rivers and the cycle of seasons.

Kongtong, it's snowing.

On the empty mountain, the vegetation is silent and the frost is thick. The snow fell one layer and the sky fell another, smoothing the ups and downs of the mountains. I groped for the stone steps and walked up slowly, only to find that the snow did not fall on the mountain, but turned white from high to low, and at the foot of the mountain, there were only snow and mud claws. Snowflakes are cool, touching my face, staring at each other and thinking. Some past events are drifting away in the snow. Some people, some scenery has long disappeared behind the years, leaving only a few yellowed broken notes. Time is not old, and the country remains the same. When we climbed up the mountain, we were still confused for no reason. The way to settle down has been our ultimate goal for thousands of years. This snowflake, fluttering and seemingly silent, has the power to penetrate people's hearts. All human puzzles are on the eyebrows and melt in the heart.

Snow is as fine as dust and condenses into silver snuff on the branches. The massiness of history and the accumulation of culture stretch the breath in the snow and release too much burden. The patchwork pavilions, the quietness of the snow color of the Millennium Taoist temple, the quiet beauty and Zen of quietism are all piled up like this silver, and all the well-being is like a string falling into the hands of a hermit, a wisp of plain sleeves, and thousands of jade flies. The people who live here are broad-minded and accept everything. The monument in front of the Buddhist temple is half rain and dew, half dust. Life is a beautiful journey, a sad journey. How many leaves, how many snowflakes, come in a hurry and go quietly. Took away a lot, but also left many unforgettable fragments. People on the road of the world of mortals, their backpacks are full of joys and sorrows they have picked up all their lives, and they can't put them down. In the end, just as the snow melts at sunrise, the noise will eventually fall into silence, the prosperity will eventually escape into simplicity, and life will eventually be simplified as usual.

Kongtong, it's snowing.

In this way, the snow turned me into an ancient rock, collecting the clear sounds of mountains and rivers, silent, not surprising, not deep or shallow, half full of joy, half full of sadness, watching the time of meditation, waiting for the peace of flowers. In the courtyard of the mountain, an old man in red is dancing a sword, the tip of which points to pear flower falls. Is this the legendary Kongtong sword? Is this the legendary foreign territory? My heart is beating with surprise. In the pure white world, a touch of dancing red and hermit is a kind of human happiness that we long for and can't reach! Deep in the world of mortals, a fragrant picture makes the fleeting time warm. There was laughter at first, and men and women gradually appeared in the deep path, leaving a shadow on the pure background.

Falling snowflakes give us a world, avoiding smoke and noise. Huangfu Mi, a medical sage, refused to do anything and hid here. Didn't he discover the secret of immortality and spiritual immortality? Noisy is a kind of vitality, and quiet is an ancient one. In the hustle and bustle of vitality, harvest a little ancient silence, which is given to the world by snow and great beauty!

Lift your face, this lightness blooms in the air. The moving wind, driving a carriage and carrying broken silver, shuttles back and forth between such people. We are extremely rich, envious of all beings and intoxicated with the world.

Kongtong, it's snowing.

It's good that it snows in Kongtong.

Chapter 3: In the snowy countryside, the catkins of willows fell motionless on the ground, but piled up in vain. Overnight, the green, red and Huang Dou on the earth disappeared. At this time, the sky and the earth are very close and seem to be integrated; Villages, fields, hills, forests ... everything turned white, except for the round well in front of the village, it was still dark and steaming outside.

Early in the morning, young girls and sisters-in-law went to the well to fetch water and wash radishes and cabbages. Their frozen hands reached into the water and immediately became more flexible. They were pleasantly surprised to say that the water is warm! Their hands are red and their faces are red. At this time, we will also be happy to think, no wonder the sun in the sky is gone, and the original glow is smeared on women's faces!

An old woman opened the door of the wing, stood on the steps and narrowed her eyes. The wrinkles on her face gather together like blooming chrysanthemums. The old man habitually opened the floodgates of chickens and ducks, and the chickens and ducks rushed out as usual, flapping their wings and screaming in horror at once. Facing the strange world, they stopped and dared not move forward. The old man angrily drove them away with bamboo sticks, and they retreated to the house.

Later, there were groups of children sneaking around on the pond. A child fell with a bang, just got up and fell with a swish. The pond was full of shouts and laughter. An old man was smoking in his mouth, looking down at the frozen water, shaking his head and nodding, grinning, toothless mouth like a hairball. He returned to the house with a hoe, stood by the pond, spat on his palm, raised his hoe and dug hard. When the first hoe went down, a white seal appeared on the pond, another hoe, another white seal ... He wanted to dig a hole here, and in the evening, he wanted to take Huang Gui to drink water and wash cattle sweaters.

The bushes on the opposite hill became lower. Standing at the top of the mountain, looking down is white, standing at the foot of the mountain, looking up is sparse green. This afternoon, a teacher from a nearby primary school led a group of students to play "war" games. They roll, climb, jump and run. Regardless of teachers or students, regardless of boys and girls, hit whoever you see. It was a real scuffle, and laughter seemed to lift the whole mountain. Shortly after the end of the "war", the catkins of poplars that fell from the sky were all big and big, as big as cotton that had been hit by a bow, and fell vigorously. Soon, there was not even a footprint on the hillside, and there was no sound at all. It seems that neither the teacher nor the students have been here. It seems that no one has been here for thousands of years. We were surprised: where did people suddenly go?

The earth suddenly became so quiet, so vast, so deep and so primitive.

If you are not attached to the pot of charcoal fire and the cup of hot tea in the house, take a walk in the clean and white world, even for a short time. In that pure world, people's hearts will become pure and beautiful, and all secular ideas and sorrows can be abandoned. We can't help thinking: although the world is worth the cold winter, is it already the season of spring in the sky? Otherwise, how could so many white petals fall? Maybe it's not catkin or cotton. What is it? Is it broken white clouds? Is it the spirit of the sun, the moon and the stars?

Chapter Four: Painting on Snow and Ice. The snow here is warm, and every piece is full of aura.

The ice here is crystal clear, and every piece is flashing neon.

Harbin, an exotic northern city.

Harbin, a romantic and magical city carved with ice and snow.

Autumn came and winter came. When the fallen leaves of wheat straw just left, the northwest wind quietly came to the city with snowflakes. Sophia Church put on a white hat and sparkled; The European-style buildings on the central street sparkle with snow clothes; The rime in Sun Island makes willows bear silver flowers, and pine trees bear silver chrysanthemums. Yabuli's ski resort is getting more and more lively, and athletes are flying in the forest. The snowflakes in Harbin are affectionate. Like butterflies, they float on your shoulders, into your arms, into your palms, climb on your eyelashes, become cool raindrops, moisten your eyes, touch your lips, and let you taste the fragrance and fragrance of pear blossom. Snowflakes in Harbin are sometimes heroic, sometimes choppy, flying and falling in a large area. With the whistling north wind flying all over the sky, you can't open your eyes, flying and singing the Great Northern Symphony in winter.

In the flying snowflakes, the Songhua River began to freeze. Tamed by the Siberian cold current, the turbulent river in the past began to become gentle, and the crystal ice began to shine, bidding farewell to the people who became attached to it in the ice city, and then, with white snowflakes and strong bodies. 1In mid-February, the Songhua River began to boil, people shouted for cars, and the lights were brightly lit. The army of ice pickers who made the world of ice and snow came. The slogans of ice pickers, chainsaws, cars and ice pickers resounded through Songhua River and Sun Island, shaking off the snow on the trees and melting the ice to stir the winter. The snow in a year is almost the same, and the scenery in a year is different. City dwellers look forward to a wonderful world of ice and snow every year, and farmers nearby are also looking forward to making more money by picking ice this season. The stars wipe the sweat, and the moon washes the face. Ice pickers don't feel cold in the world of ice and snow, and ice sculptors are tired of working overtime day and night. One side of the soil and water support one side. This is that the snow and ice in the north nourishes the character of northerners, and this is that the snow and ice in the north cultivates the most beautiful image of northerners.

Ice and snow are the real Harbin. Ice and snow have created joy for people in the ice city. During the day, they go to Songhua River and Sun Island to smoke ice, make snowmen, sledge, have snowball fights and play sailing in the snow. In the evening, I went to the Zhao Lin Park Ice Lantern Festival, went to the world of ice and snow to see ice sculptures, and entered a fairy tale world. I have forgotten my troubles here, my fame and fortune, and I have a feeling of washing the world. When you slide down the 100-meter-high ice slide, you are a fairy who floated for nine days, you are Nezha, you are an Antarctic fairy, and you are Beethoven and Mozart who play "Moonlight and Marriage in Figaro" on the ice piano with their feet. If you play on Sun Island, there must be many handsome guys and beautiful women dancing with you.

Ice and snow are romantic, and Harbin people bathed in ice and snow are more romantic. Young people are holding hands on the skating rink, and their graceful dancing leaves two lines of love curves on the snow. The eldest brother with a camera and the beautiful sister-in-law with a mink are walking in the streets of Nikolai Gogol, with big red candied haws in their hands. You can tell at a glance that their little life is very sweet. Old people drink red wine, eat Russian food, taste the happiness of their new life and write down their wishes in the snow.

In the hot pot restaurant on Xinyang Road and in front of the barbecue stall on Taiping Bridge, there are hot pig-killing dishes and delicious farmhouse meals. Relatives and friends talk loudly at home, swig, drink endless beer, burn endless, chew endless, don't know whether it's frozen or drunk, and peach blossoms bloom on their red faces. No matter where it is, it is filled with the boldness and atmosphere of the Northeast people, revealing the enthusiasm and simplicity of Harbin people.

Ice and snow are the natural resources of Harbin, and the ice and snow culture is already a business card of Harbin. Snowflakes are also the most sincere invitation for Harbin to invite friends at home and abroad. Ice and snow have brought fresh breath to the city, and also made the pearls under this swan more brilliant.

When I was about to finish writing this essay, snowflakes from pear petals floated outside the window, and the buildings and trees in the community were covered in a painting. I seem to see the snowflake burning, burning the romance, warmth and future of this city.