How to write a composition by the window
I like window seats very much.
Looking out of the window through the old window frame, the branches that kept swinging in the wind seemed to be ancient paintings set in frames, and Bordeaux bars decorated it. Looking at the vigorous branches outside the window and smelling the faint smell of wood from the window bar, I was a little intoxicated.
Although this is a popular place, I still like it.
I like the wind with a faint earthy fragrance. Shallow freshness blows my cheeks, blows the broken hair scattered on my forehead, and listens to the sound of the wind blowing the pages. Naughty boy Feng likes reading, too! The wind blew the green and white curtains. At last, the curtains couldn't resist loneliness and floated in the air, which obscured my view of class and deliberately made me notice this ordinary but not boring curtain and noticed the tiny patterns on it.
Sitting by the window, you can always touch the first sunshine in spring, hear the first birdsong in summer, feel the first coolness in autumn and catch the first snowflake in the winter wind.
In spring, in class, sweet birdsong always comes in from the window and gets into my ears. Someone said, "turn it off, you can't concentrate in class, it's too noisy." I answered "no" because this is my love outside the window in spring.
In summer, the hot sun always shoots in from the window mercilessly, shines on my face and jumps on my desk. Someone said, "In that case, close the curtains quickly and hurt your eyes." I shook my head, because this is the attachment of summer sunshine to me.
In autumn, the autumn wind always blows to the window, my face and my desk. Some people say: "There are so many fallen leaves, so dirty. Close the window. " I shook my head, because this is my love for autumn windows.
In winter, flying snowflakes always fly naughtily into the window, fall on my face and melt into my book. Someone said, "turn it off, the snowflake has got the book wet." I waved my hand, because it was winter's love for me at the window.
All this is the love of the four seasons for this window seat.
The window is very old, and the purple paint has faded a lot, even with a big gap. Although shabby, it is still firmly inlaid with glass, like an elderly general, still guarding his gun.
There is always the freshest air in front of the window. In front of the window, there is the most touching scenery. In front of the window, there is the most …
I hope it helps.
2. How to write the composition topic by the window?
The scenery parked by the window
I like to sit quietly on the wide windowsill at home in the early summer afternoon, reading, enjoying the scenery and listening to music. On the dark green marble with white pattern, there is a soft cushion, which is my paradise. By my side, calla lily is as white as snow, its red palm is bright red, and the fragrance of jasmine is refreshing. Coupled with a cup of sweet and bitter rose chrysanthemum tea, I fell into a fairyland.
Through the transparent and wide glass, you can see your own yard outside the window. Look, the courtyard is lush and full of vitality. Here, cherry trees are covered with strings of purple "little lanterns", apricot trees are covered with apricots from Huang Chengcheng, pumpkins and cucumbers are struggling to grow, and kidney beans also spit out purple buds. Over there, red, yellow, white and pink roses are blooming brightly, climbing the railing and proudly blowing their horns. When the breeze blows, all the plants in the yard seem to be alive. They twisted their bodies gently and sang and praised the sunshine. ...
The warm sunshine was lazily sprinkled on the grass, attracting several kittens. They rolled comfortably on the grass and enjoyed the sunshine. A few sparrows joined in the fun, standing at the top of the tree and looking around with their heads tilted. They seem to be intoxicated by the scenery and are reluctant to leave for a long time. At this moment, time seems to have solidified.
My beloved piano music is floating in my ear, and my favorite words are in my hand. The air is filled with the fragrance of scented tea, which makes me in a trance: is this the so-called "Xanadu"? Indeed, listening to Richard's piano music, reading Zhang Mudi's words, tasting fragrant tea and enjoying the scenery outside the window are great enjoyment for me. Homesickness is beautiful and full of poetry. The tune of Wild Flowers has a faint sadness, but it has an unspeakable beauty. I have always liked Moody's writing, and its elegant style coincides with the scenery outside the window.
The scented tea in my hand is hot and slowly dissipated in front of the window. The sunshine falls lazily on me, and the warm feeling spreads all over my body ... Under the sunshine, flowers, grass, green and all living things are so kind, beautiful and full of vitality. They are in front of the window, quietly forming a beautiful picture, staying in front of the window and in my memory of eleven years old. ...
3. How to write outside the composition window
I finished my homework outside the window today, and I thought, what should I do? Watching TV is boring. Going out to play is too tired.
Let's open the window and get some air! As soon as I opened the window, I was fascinated by the scenery in front of me. Through the window, I saw rows of willows sprouting. From a distance, rows of willows were blown by the wind, propping up her soft body.
Pines and cypresses are still dark green, so green and so tall, as if they were soldiers, guarding our homeland forever. The flowers are so bright, so brilliant and so unforgettable.
Look at the white magnolia standing proudly, like a girl in white gauze, graceful, refreshing and holy. Flying butterflies left footprints on beautiful flowers.
I suddenly smelled a smell of earth. Compared with here, high-rise buildings are much inferior.
Through the window, I see tall buildings standing on the horizon, manipulating the human world like giants, so that lonely and helpless people can only see a sky. How big is the sky? This is a question that I have been thinking about.
Through the window, I saw the children very happy and laughing heartily. I really envy those innocent and lively children who can enjoy themselves like that without asking anything. They are so lovely and beautiful among the red flowers and green grass.
They play in the water to show their passion; They are rolling, and their red faces show great vitality; They are skipping rope. From their bouncing feet, I can see that they are smart and happy ... when I "come back", my eyes are still the same scene-flowers, grass, trees and wood outside a window. Outside the window (2) I have a small room, or it can be said that the small room binds me.
I have known since I was a child that I am different from others. I don't like the noise outside, the dust raised outside, the garbage everywhere outside ... in short, I don't like everything outside.
I like my small room, quiet and peaceful. In an empty room, there will always be my busy figure.
I want to clean my little room, spotless. Then I was the only audience in the tidy room.
I don't like sunshine. It always enters the house unscrupulously, making the gentle hut light up. It always stings my eyes. So, I closed the curtains.
Sunshine, I don't welcome you either. I don't like wind.
Inadvertently, I blew up the neatly arranged test papers and scattered them all over the floor. So, I closed the window.
Feng, you are not welcome either. I am the only one left in such a big room. How cozy it is! I hope it is always so quiet.
One day, however, a burst of laughter passed through the window and through my eardrum. I opened the curtain, huh? It's snowing. Snow has become precious here. In the snow, several children were having a snowball fight, and laughter echoed in the sky.
Suddenly, I had a strange feeling-a feeling I had never had before. That may be an impulse! So, I threw down the thermos and rushed downstairs ... "Little friend, would you like to have a snowball fight with you?" Those children nodded at me with innocent smiles.
As a result, my running footprints appeared in the snow, one after another, countless. Finally, the children all went home.
Ah, the sun is out. I waved the sweat off my forehead and took a deep breath at the rising sun in Ran Ran ... Outside the window, it turned out to be so wonderful! Outside the window (3) it seems that I have been living in an indifferent state, and everything that emerges around me seems to have nothing to do with me. The sunshine in winter has a warmth that makes people fall asleep.
It seems that it can only be projected on me through countless clouds, which makes me feel that it is neither thick nor shallow, like a pair of gentle hands soothing the unknown emptiness and fear in my heart. Outside the window is the cold of winter that has been blocked, but now the sunlight comes in directly, with half of the oblique light coming into my eyes.
So I think I can only get drunk at this moment. Because I am always awake, I have to bear the pressure from all sides.
But the surging future direction and impulse in my heart desperately support me to overcome fatigue. I fantasize that one day all the manic factors involving me will be hidden.
Think of the unique scenery in the desert, the long figure dragged by the sun at sunset. The figure drifting away in the warm wind, holding a thin horse, blowing Yu Di, fluttering with the beauty of loneliness and decline, carrying beauty, leaving the evening breeze still, suffocating in my little pavilion.
I even stared at the bright moon in the sky in fear, watching its swaying posture and enchanting publicity, thinking of the fear of devouring the soul day and night. It turns out that after stripping away the false truth, I am still vulnerable to fear in the dark. The window in front of my bed may not be open for a long time! Years have rusted its face, and time has faded its color, leaving only rows of deep and shallow traces, as if to tell me that the vigorous days have quietly disappeared in a trance, like running water, never to return.
I suddenly remembered how much I loved sunshine before, and watched it penetrate my memory again and again. Recalling the sound of bamboo and the pavilion, it seems that only those images of reincarnation will emerge again and again in a helpless afternoon, with no route and no retreat, swallowing wounds again and again until there is no blood left.
I didn't even touch the window with my hand. If the window of the heart is clumsily closed from an afternoon, I will never open the window again. I will never care about everything around me again. I have forgotten the thin ivy outside the window and the sunshine climbing up my window. Always excluded from the heart. All the flowers, paths, ancient trees and rattan chairs from the memories were cut off from the castle on the same day, and all the streams, pets and plants disappeared in anguish and pain.
Everything I left outside the window, is it still there? Are they all okay? Pushing open the window, the sun suddenly came in and covered my desolate forehead. I poked my head out and saw ivy climbing intimately along the roof. In an instant, green filled my heart. The evening breeze in the sunset crouched by the window and whispered my name.
4. How to write 600 words in the composition outside the window?
Windows can be interpreted as another world after you figure it out.
outside the window
I never dared to long for sunshine. It is so great and beautiful. I have been worshipping silently in my heart, just like worshipping a god. However, I am afraid of it, afraid of its greatness and beauty, afraid that one day I will melt under its light, so I never want to open the window and accept the baptism of the sun.
What's outside the window? Is it a little sunshine from the crack in the tree? Is it a musical of wind and rain? Or a terrible python hovering outside the window waiting for my "delicious meal"? ..... I think so.
I asked myself more than once: "Do you want to open the window?" However, after hesitating for a while, the result is always timid-don't. In fact, maybe the window is full of vitality and joy? However, maybe it is full of traps and evil? ..... Dare not think, dare not think again. Just sitting alone in the corner, keeping company with the shadow reflected by the light. ...
Everyone has a window, and everyone longs for it. However, few people really dare to open the window to welcome the sunshine. I have heard a saying: "Happiness and happiness should be greeted by yourself, not let it come to you." Indeed, although there will be difficulties around you on the way to meet the sunshine, when you bravely open the window, you will see a blue sea and blue sky. It is true that not all those who dare to meet the sunshine will get it.
So, I looked at the mysterious window with a dignified expression and couldn't help walking towards it like a ghost. Although, there may be a little sunshine, there may also be pythons. However, I was completely covered by something inexplicable and couldn't extricate myself. I held out my hand, touched my fingertips on the window, and retreated timidly. "Push away, be brave!" A voice sounded in my ear. Suddenly, the still sea rolled up-I suddenly opened the window with my hand. In an instant, the dazzling and beautiful sunshine came through the window through the cracks in the tree. The dark room suddenly became so bright and beautiful, just like the sleeping beauty in the fairy tale just woke up. What made me even more incredible was that I saw a lush commercial scene outside the window: orioles and larks were singing and making noise among the treetops, and the grass was dancing and swaying in the wind. Naughty dragonflies gently beat the calm lake, causing ripples. ...
I am bathed in sunshine, greedily sucking freshness and enjoying the beauty of the moment.
I just feel it now-when I bravely open the window of my heart, I will find it so beautiful outside the window!
It seems that I have been living in a state of indifference, and everything around me has nothing to do with me. The sunshine in winter has a warmth that makes people fall asleep. It seems that only through countless clouds can it be projected on me, making me feel that it is neither thick nor shallow, like a pair of gentle hands soothing the unknown emptiness and fear in my heart.
Outside the window is the cold winter that has been cut off, but now the sun comes in directly, with half of the oblique light coming into my eyes. So I think I can only get drunk at this moment. Because I am always awake, I have to bear the pressure from all sides. But the surging future direction and impulse in my heart desperately support me to overcome fatigue.
I fantasize that one day all the manic factors involving me will be hidden. Think of the unique scenery in the desert, the long figure dragged by the sun at sunset. The figure drifting away in the warm wind, holding the thin horse, blowing the Yu Di, fluttering under the skirt, lonely and beautiful, carrying a beautiful back, leaving the evening breeze as always, suffocating in my small pavilion. I even stared at the bright moon in the sky in fear, watching its swaying posture and enchanting publicity, thinking of the fear of devouring the soul day and night. It turns out that after stripping away the false truth, I am still vulnerable to fear in the dark.
The window in front of my bed may not be open for a long time!
Years have rusted its face, and time has faded its color, leaving only rows of deep and shallow traces, as if to tell me that the vigorous days have quietly disappeared in a trance, like running water, never to return. I suddenly remembered how much I loved sunshine before, and watched it penetrate my memory again and again. Recalling the sound of bamboo and the pavilion, it seems that only those images of reincarnation will emerge again and again in a helpless afternoon, with no route or retreat, swallowing the wound again and again until there is no bleeding.
I didn't even touch the window with my hand. If the window of the heart is clumsily closed from an afternoon, I will never open the window again. I will never care about everything around me. I have forgotten the thin ivy outside the window and the sunshine climbing up my window. Always excluded from the heart.
All the flowers, paths, ancient trees and rattan chairs from memories were cut off from the castle on the same day, and all the streams, pets and plants disappeared into depression and pain. Everything I left outside the window, is it still there? Are they all okay? Pushing open the window, the sun suddenly came in and covered my desolate forehead. I poked my head out to watch the ivy climb intimately along the roof, and the green color filled my heart instantly. The evening breeze in the sunset crouched by the window and whispered my name.
I'm glad I didn't open the wrong window after all!
5. How to write the composition "Outside the Window"
"Out of the Window" There are not many windows in my house, only five doors that have been tossed.
And three of them have been firmly sealed and used for other purposes because they are not in places without light. My room is lucky to have a big and bright window, which adds a lot of color to my little world. I can not only bathe in the bright sunshine, but also see the beautiful scenery outside the window-blue sky, white clouds, green trees, red flowers ... all of which are blended in the wind and light and sent indoors through the window, which is naturally beautiful.
? In the morning, before the earth woke up, the dim light had passed through the window and touched my eyelids. Then, the peddler's cries floated in from the window ... When I opened the window, a warm spring breeze came in slowly, which disturbed the chaotic world in the house and completely liberated my sleepy mind. When I am awake, I appreciate the scenery by the window, which is elegant in color and distinct in layers, like a high-fidelity color painting, and I can't help but tut-tut: at the same time, I have a great feeling that the scenery here is unique. The big climate outside the window, the small climate inside the window, and the window are the bane of the big climate and the lifeblood of the small climate.
In the dog days, the summer heat is pressing, and the windows are closed during the day and opened at night, which not only refuses the heat during the day, but also attracts the cool breeze at night; In the cold winter, the window is like a wall, tightly closed, allowing the wind outside to roar, the snow outside to fly, and the room is still warm as spring. Exaggerated, the window is simply a manual air conditioner, but it is not so arbitrary.
? My window can't compare with the window described by Taggart-the window with bare walls. There are invisible paintings on my window, which constitute my reverie and sustenance.
In the evening of spring or autumn, when I am idle or have insomnia, I will just sit by the window, stare at the sky slightly larger than the window, engage in unrealistic ideas, temporarily forget the fatigue in the secular world and enjoy the happiness of "idealism" for a moment ... The plane flying at night, the flashing red light on the high building, a small piece of red cloud on the horizon, and even the dark and vacant eyes are all my fantasy objects. I hope that alien visitors will hijack me and that "immortal people" will appear in the dark space ... I thank the window for giving me inexplicable excitement and courage.
? I like to experience life in the window, and I am willing to rely on my window partner. There are not many windows in my house, only five doors that have been tossed. And three of them have been firmly sealed and used for other purposes because they are not in places without light.
My room is lucky to have a big and bright window, which adds a lot of color to my little world. I can not only bathe in the bright sunshine, but also see the beautiful scenery outside the window-blue sky, white clouds, green trees, red flowers ... all of which are blended in the wind and light and sent indoors through the window, which is naturally beautiful. ? In the morning, before the earth woke up, the dim light had passed through the window and touched my eyelids. Then, the peddler's cries floated in from the window ... When I opened the window, a warm spring breeze came in slowly, which disturbed the chaotic world in the house and completely liberated my sleepy mind. When I am awake, I appreciate the scenery by the window, which is elegant in color and distinct in layers, like a high-fidelity color painting, and I can't help but tut-tut: at the same time, I have a great feeling that the scenery here is unique.
The big climate outside the window, the small climate inside the window, and the window are the bane of the big climate and the lifeblood of the small climate. In the dog days, the summer heat is pressing, and the windows are closed during the day and opened at night, which not only refuses the heat during the day, but also attracts the cool breeze at night; In the cold winter, the window is like a wall, tightly closed, allowing the wind outside to roar, the snow outside to fly, and the room is still warm as spring.
Exaggerated, the window is simply a manual air conditioner, but it is not so arbitrary. ? My window can't compare with the window described by Taggart-the window with bare walls.
There are invisible paintings on my window, which constitute my reverie and sustenance. In the evening of spring or autumn, when I am idle or have insomnia, I will just sit by the window, stare at the sky slightly larger than the window, engage in unrealistic ideas, temporarily forget the fatigue in the secular world and enjoy the happiness of "idealism" for a moment ... The plane flying at night, the flashing red light on the high building, a small piece of red cloud on the horizon, and even the dark and vacant eyes are all my fantasy objects.
I hope that alien visitors will hijack me and that "immortal people" will appear in the dark space ... I thank the window for giving me inexplicable excitement and courage. ? I like to experience life in the window, and I like to rely on my long companion.
There aren't many windows in my house, only five are counted backwards. And three of them have been firmly sealed and used for other purposes because they are not in places without light.
My room is lucky to have a big and bright window, which adds a lot of color to my little world. I can not only bathe in the bright sunshine, but also see the beautiful scenery outside the window-blue sky, white clouds, green trees, red flowers ... all of which are blended in the wind and light and sent indoors through the window, which is naturally beautiful. ? In the morning, before the earth woke up, the dim light had passed through the window and touched my eyelids. Then, the peddler's cries floated in from the window ... When I opened the window, a warm spring breeze came in slowly, which disturbed the chaotic world in the house and completely liberated my sleepy mind. When I am awake, I appreciate the scenery by the window, which is elegant in color and distinct in layers, like a high-fidelity color painting, and I can't help but tut-tut: at the same time, I have a great feeling that the scenery here is unique.
The big climate outside the window, the small climate inside the window, and the window are the bane of the big climate and the lifeblood of the small climate. In the dog days, the summer heat is pressing, and the windows are closed during the day and opened at night, which not only refuses the heat during the day, but also attracts the cool breeze at night; In the cold winter, the window is like a wall, tightly closed, allowing the wind outside to roar, the snow outside to fly, and the room is still warm as spring.
Exaggerated, the window is simply a manual air conditioner, but it is not so arbitrary. ? My window can't compare with the window described by Taggart-the window with bare walls.
There are invisible paintings on my window, which constitute my reverie and sustenance. Spring or autumn night, leisure or.
6. How to write a composition in the window?
Chapter 1: Cleaning Windows
On Saturday morning, I saw my mother cleaning the window. I'm curious and want to have a try. I first went to the pool to get a basin of water, then found a rag, dipped it in water, twisted it, and began to work. I cleaned the window extensively first, only to see clouds of dust floating down from the window. The window was really stolen! Then I found some black spots on the window that I couldn't erase. What happened? I seem to hear the little black dot on the window saying, "little friend, I advise you not to waste your time." You can't kill us, hahaha! " "
I am not convinced, what should I do? It suddenly occurred to me that my mother said that if stubborn dirt cannot be wiped off, you can take a breath and wipe it hard. So I did as my mother said, and sure enough, the little black dot disappeared. When the rest of the little black spots saw their partners being killed one by one, they kept begging, "My good sister, please spare us, we still want to live a little longer." Hum, spare you, it's impossible. I must wipe you all out and uproot you. So I kept rubbing it hard, and after a while, it was all gone.
I looked out of the window like a mirror and smiled happily.
Chapter II: Cleaning Glass Windows
Today, our whole family is cleaning. I am responsible for cleaning the windows. This is the first time for me to undertake such an important task. Father smiled and said, "Son, can you do it?" I'm not convinced, this is clearly look down on me! I am determined to take practical action. Look at me!
I have prepared a washbasin, water, waste newspapers and a rag. I'll soak the rag first and clean the window frame. This window frame looks clean, but when it is wiped with cloth, it will wipe out a lot of dust. I kept washing rags and changing water, but I couldn't wipe them when I hit a high place, so I had to ask my father for help. After cleaning the window frame, my hands are swollen. Then, I picked up a rag to clean the glass. Because I'm not tall enough, water is poured into my sleeve when I rub it, which is really uncomfortable. But I rolled up my sleeves and continued to wipe. I wiped it from top to bottom, and then I went to the other side and wiped it carefully. Finally, I dried the glass with waste newspaper and wiped off some obvious stains.
After polishing, I looked up, wow! I cleaned the glass very clean! The scenery outside can be seen clearly, as if there is no glass in the middle.
Mom looked at it, gave a thumbs-up and said, "You are really capable!" " "After listening to my mother's praise, I thought to myself: Although it was very tiring and hard to clean the glass today, I learned the same skills as work and helped my parents do something. My heart is full of joy, as sweet as honey.
Chapter III: Cleaning Windows
It's the Spring Festival. Today, my mother and I cleaned at home together. Our first task is to clean the windows.
It's easier said than done. First, prepare two rags and a bottle of water. Step 1: soak one of the rags. Step 2: Wipe the window with a wet rag, both inside and outside. (Pay attention to safety) Step 3: Wipe the window with a dry rag. At first, the window was so blurred that you could hardly see outside. But after constant wiping, the window gradually became clean. But at this time, your back and waist will be very painful.
But at this time, I found some "nasty molecules"-the stain was still lying in place. What shall we do? We can't scrape it off by hand. You can't wipe it off with a cloth; Wash with water, it won't come off. I'm as anxious as a cat on hot bricks-running around. Huh? In the past, when I cleaned the windows in the classroom, I didn't use water at all. I just blew directly at the dirty place, and then wiped it with paper, and it disappeared. I patted my head. That's a good idea! He breathed a sigh of relief at the stain, and a layer of mist appeared on the window. I rubbed it hard twice, ha, the stain "escaped"! I hurried to find my mother, who was struggling to clean! I'll tell her the secret recipe at once. Mom did as I said. After a while, another stain escaped! We immediately headed for the "stain base camp" on the window. After a while, all the stains surrendered and disappeared completely.
By this time, I had cleaned the window. Looking at it from a distance, ha, clean as glass!
7. How to write a composition outside the door and in front of the window?
The dark room makes people feel ethereal, and the window is pushed open in the dark. The sun shines on the body, and the weak body suddenly heats up, and the aperture becomes no longer shiny in the blink of an eye. From a distance, it's beautiful!
The weather has become a little urgent, and people who are not prepared are ill. The backlog of tasks and weak body and mind pestered me painfully. Should I go out for fun or finish the task? I stopped at the door and stood for a long time. Too many fetters bound me out of the door and walked back to the desk step by step.
Open the book, look at these familiar number strings, keep writing back the calculation theorem, reciting the formulas that predecessors used life to offset each other ... However, my heart flies far away, and there are mysterious ancient incense and interesting things in the distance, green rice fields, fragrant gardens, mountains and rivers I yearn for ... but looking up out of the window, it is so far away! Far away, the beautiful scenery close at hand is covered, and the scale in my heart is sharpened. I want to see it, see the distance!