Summer vacation memory composition 1 My childhood was happy.

When I was a child, my mother took care of me and grew up with me.

In summer, the earth is smoked by the sun, and cicadas seem to be hot-headed and keep barking. Endless, a crying from sunrise to the stars is really a kick.

After dinner, many cicada catchers went out. They are going to catch cicadas that have been barking all day. People have flashlights, sticks and some glue in their hands. At this time, our family was also out, taking tools and walking quickly to the fields in Dongguan.

When I came to a forest, my brother and I were afraid of falling into the river because there was a river next to it. My brother first found a cicada, and my brother and I quickly told my mother that my mother picked up a flashlight and took a photo beside it, then slowly moved to the left and shone on the cicada. My brother and I walked slowly there with a stick of glue. Cicada has no shell and can't fly, so we successfully caught it. In this way, the cicada was put into the bag by us, and the cheerful laughter was blown far away by Xia Feng. ...

Looking back now, it seems that the short summer experience is still in sight.

Scraping fish is a dialect in our hometown, which means scraping the water in the river ditch and catching fish. This fishing method is named for its wiping action. If you change to other words, it is not enough to express meaning and strength.

Although my hometown belongs to the north, it is convenient for irrigation because it is close to the Sulu River in the north. Instead of wheat or corn, which is common in the north, rice is only grown in the south of the Yangtze River. So when it comes to my hometown, our county knows that it is also a "land of plenty" in the local area.

Rice is naturally inseparable from water, and water diversion naturally requires ditches. Every summer, when you are busy, you can stand at the head of the village and look east. There are big rivers, small ditches, underground ditches, open channels and rice fields dotted around, which can be described as northern Jiangsu and southern Jiangsu. At that time, I was still young and knew nothing about farming. I only remember the adults working in the fields and watching curiously how they raised, threw and transplanted seedlings. Later, I heard the sound of water flowing in the canal not far behind me, so I rushed over. I saw that the water had just been led from the culvert to the open channel, and the water striker was like an invincible teacher, flying over the grass, sweeping away the fallen leaves, drowning the high mountains and being invincible. On a whim, I rolled up my trouser legs, took off my shoes, jumped into the clear water and ran after it.

When the seedlings are crooked and the queue is not properly inserted in the field, it is like words written in my Tian Zi grid, and my expectations are also written there. After several times of rain soaking, the ditches outside the village are full of trenches, and frogs are constantly barking. The hot summer is like magic, and the field has changed into a scene: the flat rice fields are endless, and the sky is high and the clouds are low; Dense and lush seedlings, full of green; Near the field, the emerald frog started up and plopped into the rice field, scaring the tadpoles with their tails dragging around. Weeds on the ridge are gratifying, and the water plants in the ditch are reluctant to part. Unknown duckweeds cover the small water surface with yellow flowers, and sometimes small fish ripple.

I still remember that there is a big river to the north of paddy field, where the water of paddy field and ditch comes from. Every summer, the river calms down, the willows on the shore are reflected in it, and the shadow of Puwei floats on the water. Because the river is deep, there are large fish living in the water, which can be judged from the traces of fish scratched on the water from time to time. After we knew there were big fish in the water, we found the harpoon. Walking slowly along the shore, staring at the water surface, we saw a large piece of water shining, and we knew the fish was below. At this time, we raised the harpoon, aimed at the head of the spray and threw it hard. Nine times out of ten, we will fork the fish. Of course, we don't depend on the number of fish, but on the happiness of the harpoon.

Time flies, and soon it will be autumn. The field is empty again, and only the uneven rice stubble on the ground is still looking forward to summer. Due to the lack of crop coverage, ditches and forks are exposed again. At this time, after a summer's nourishment, the waterway has become extremely fat, and the fish inside are waiting for us to cross.

I remember that scraping fish is my favorite thing to do with my friends at this time of the year. Generally, two people make an appointment to rush to the canal with washbasins, buckets, shovels and fish baskets. When we arrive at the site, we usually choose the channel with narrow water surface, which will reduce the workload. First, we try to drive the fish to the middle from both ends of the waterway, and then dig quickly with a shovel to make a weir to enclose the fish in the middle section. Then we scrape the water in the cofferdam separately until the bottom of the canal is exposed. At this time, the fish is exposed to nowhere to escape. Now that I think about it, isn't this "fishing with exhausted resources"? Sometimes the amount of water is large, and it seems too slow to wipe it with a washbasin. We will use two thick ropes to pull the bucket up in tandem, each holding one end of the two ropes, standing on the shore, pulling it away like a swing, and sending the bucket full of water out, once and for all, full of labor rhythm.

When we rubbed the water's edge, we turned to look at the fruits of our labor. The water slowly left the canal bank inch by inch. The water surface is falling, and our joy is rising. The water plants are close to the water surface, the water plants are exposed, the water plants fall, and the water on both sides forms a trickle and concentrates on the surface, and fish are seen. The fish went against the current desperately, and the fish was exposed. The fish is practicing turning over over there. Our wiping operation is over. Let's turn to the harvest time. At this time, the fish had nowhere to hide, so they swallowed the remaining water in one gulp. Some people think they are smart enough to get into algae. I grabbed it with one hand, and the fish seemed to shake hands with me. I immediately felt its smooth, thick and plump body.

The fish in the canal are generally grass carp, as well as shrimp and nameless red-bellied fish. But once I caught a big guy. When I opened a piece of seaweed, a huge, dark, round guy was lying in a puddle, snakehead, a big snakehead, and I cried happily. I threw my hand down, trying to catch it, but this guy was strong and slippery, and suddenly broke free, fell into the mud and splashed all over me. I didn't care about it either, and then I pressed it down. After a tug-of-war, snakehead lost its strength. I grabbed its cheek and picked it up bit by bit.

When the sun sets, we divide the fish equally, then pull open the cofferdam to restore the original appearance of the canal, and we will walk home with full load in the sunset. Now that I have grown up and left my hometown for many years, the experience of scraping fish as a child has become a memory. But I don't know why every time I go to the market to buy food, I unconsciously turn to the fish market and reach out to catch the lively fish. Now I think this habit has something to do with my experience of scraping fish when I was a child.

Summer Memory Composition 3 Summer Morning:

At eight o'clock, a woman dragged a child behind her: "Baby, walk fast."

I was shocked: Are they going to cross the road? But it's all red lights!

The woman simply picked up the child and said, "There is a shade in front. Let's hide. "

Looking around, I was the only one standing smartly in the sun, revealing my tanned skin and my transparent back. ...

When the green light was on, I held my bag high and spread my legs and ran. If you ask me where I'm going, I'll run to an air-conditioned place without looking back.

Sure, you can ask the old people in the park. When they play chess, they shake their fans, watch the tea turn in the water, then take a sip, and then conveniently raise a chess piece and say, "Why is it so hot this year?"

Yes, it's too hot this year.

Summer afternoon:

There is a poem by Su Shi, a great university master: In June, there is no hail in the sun, and in December, there are no cold flowers in the valley. This is a strange natural phenomenon. It happened that there was a hail this afternoon. At that time, I was planning to go swimming, but suddenly:

Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa. ...

"Ah-",someone screamed, "It's hail-"

I thought it was a joke-because I haven't seen hail for over ten years. But this crisp and powerful voice can't be wrong. I ran to the window and looked. I lost my voice and cried, "Wow, it really hails!" "

With a few thunders, raindrops and hail fell!

Pedestrians left in a hurry-running with clothes on their heads, and mom was scared because the hail knocked on the window. While opening the window, I let the wind and rain falter and took the camera to record this spectacular scene.

Then I ran out, turned off the air conditioner and opened my arms-so cool!

Summer night:

I am used to watching the bustling long streets in costume TV dramas. When you are on Pingjiang Road, you will find that this is the legendary man in the painting.

However, this painting is still beautiful at night-no one wants to sit in it, but to join the rolling crowd. The layout of Pingjiang Road is perfect. There is a small river along the road, and a row of weeping willows are planted by the river. They are bent, and their long green hair has fallen into the dark green river. Qingshi Road is not wide, but it is not crowded. Beneath this gentle appearance, there are countless things that people like-food. I saw two beautiful women coming from a distance and said, "This family's chicken feet are delicious." At this time, a yogurt shop in the northern section is also doing well. There is also an extremely restrained food-lotus. The old man is carrying a basket of lotus leaves. He is walking, walking slowly, rhythmically shouting his slogan: "Fresh Lotus-"in Wu language, which gives people a quiet feeling.

It's very hot at noon today, and the whole world seems to be boiling in a pot. We are like ants in a pot struggling in a boiling pot.

The dog was lying in the shade of the tree, sticking out its tongue. When its owner called it, it didn't even bother to respond. The leaves on the tree were still full of vitality in the morning, but now their heads are drooping. Cicada in the tree is the most annoying. It has been barking since morning, so I can't sleep.

I stayed at home and watched TV with relish. My father was cooking dark dishes in the kitchen. Because there was no salt at home, I had to go to the supermarket to buy salt. I reluctantly took the money and walked on the sidewalk like a snail.

I was sweating profusely because of the heat. I just walked for a while, and the only water on my body ran down my back, thighs and heels, just like I had just finished running a marathon.

After buying salt, I went home, and the salt turned into a pile. I was like a person who didn't drink water for a month. I ran to the faucet and gulped it down, but I couldn't help feeling: water: it's really the best drink in the world!

Looking at the sun like a fireball, I can't help thinking: if our place can be like a floating city in Venice, how wonderful it would be! Swim freely in the water every day and have a water fight happily in the water. ...

I spent my childhood in the countryside. At that time, everyone lived in low adobe houses, and the windows were very small and basically closed. There is no air conditioner, electric fan and other cooling facilities at home, and the weather is sultry. Children seldom stay at home except sleeping. At noon, the adults who were tired all morning wanted to have a rest, and the children sneaked out of the house to catch cicadas in the Woods at the head of the village. There were many cicadas at that time. In hot summer, cicadas sing day and night, and there are dozens on a tree. So catching cicadas in summer has become the best way for children to spend the summer.

Every year after the summer vacation, children will catch cicadas in groups of three or five. In the countryside in July and August, the air is filled with the smell of hot and dry, and the flowers and plants baked by the sun are bent feebly, and the hot air in summer blows on the face, which has a burning stimulation. The sun is so dazzling at noon that I dare not look directly at it. There are few pedestrians on the road, and the whole village has become a paradise for children.

At that time, most children didn't wear shoes. First, the cloth shoes made by my mother were worn without wearing them. If you wear it for a long time, you will grind the soles of your shoes. They only wear them when they go to school or visit relatives and friends. Second, the old cloth shoes are not as good as the current shoes, and the new shoes are hard and tight. When they are comfortable, they soon wear out, so most children walk barefoot. At that time, they were all dirt roads, which were baked by the sun and formed a thick hot soil layer. It hurts like hell when you step on it. But this did not stop the children from playing, and catching cicadas brought them infinite fun.

I made my own tool to beat cicadas. I first ventured to collect a few ponytails in the stable, tied them to a long bamboo pole with hemp thread, and then quietly approached the cicada, buckled the ponytail on the front of the cicada, and pulled it hard to trap it. At this time, the male cicada will make a squeaky and reluctant cry, while the female cicada will only flap her wings and struggle to escape.

Catching cicadas is also exquisite. The dense poplars on the roadside will make cicadas climb too high to catch. Low jujube and elm trees are ideal targets for catching cicadas. The weather is cool and there are many cicadas. It is easy to catch cicadas when catching cicadas. Don't let the pole touch the branches and leaves, or you will scare them away. So, a few friends walked carefully through the Woods, staring at the trunk and forgetting summer.

In the evening of summer, when the sun goes down, the weather will be much cooler. It is a good opportunity for children to get in touch with the "Xianjia", which is the dialect of our hometown and refers to the larvae of Zen. It is a delicious food handed down from generation to generation. Usually, he comes out of the ground at night, takes advantage of the night, secretly climbs to the tree and takes off his young shell. God spread his long wings and became a beautiful cicada. When I first came out of the shell, my whole body was white and my eyes were black. It didn't take long for the color to get worse and turn black. Because of this magical change, people have given it the reputation of "fairy family" It was dark the next night, and it was time for them to break ground and climb trees. The children seized the opportunity to touch the "fairy tale house". Some were caught before climbing the tree, and some were touched just after climbing the tree. The chubby body is pleasing to the eye. You can touch a dozen or dozens of them every night, take them home and soak them in salt water, and fry them on the table the next day. This gift from nature enriches farmers' dining tables and brings fun to children in summer. Fortunately, there were many cicadas at that time, and no matter how they were caught, they would not disappear. Later, the decrease of cicadas was due to the excessive use of chemical fertilizers and pesticides, and the road surface hardened, which hindered the growth and excavation of cicada larvae.

Our childhood is happy in summer. Although we live in poverty and are not satisfied with food and clothing, the fun of catching cicadas is hard for today's children to understand. Childhood events more than half a century ago always come to my mind from time to time every summer.

Summer Memory Composition 6 Summer flowers are blooming in July, and there are more people under the big tree. One by one, playing among the trees, our childhood is as beautiful as summer flowers.

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These memories, which can be turned page by page like a diary, are precious wealth that I can't forget.

As in the summers of previous years, at the end of noon, the trees were crowded with people. Adults talk a lot, but still complain about the hot weather in July. The children jumped up and down around the big tree and enjoyed the summer vacation. I am one of them. We used to hide and seek, climb trees and run in the hot sun. You can forget the nagging of adults and the troubles of homework. As a result, the hot weather dispersed in laughter.

Suddenly, a loud noise without warning broke the peace of summer, followed by dark clouds rolling. I haven't thought about it yet, the adults are ready to take their children home, and the storm is coming.

The children had to be separated, and the adults clung to their clothes for fear of getting wet.

In the distance, clothes and quilts are hanging on the ropes of uncles and aunts who are not at home, but they are about to get wet.

Of course, several children saw it, and no one spoke. Everyone just looked at each other and ran away together. ...

The clothes and quilts are all in the door, and the rain is dripping. The owner of the house hurried back and saw us. He paused for a moment, then smiled knowingly. The friends looked at each other again and smiled.

When I closed my diary, I remembered that precious memory in my mind again. I'm glad there was naivety at that time, as naive as summer flowers. ...

Now the trees have sprouted and the children have grown up. There is not much time, but I will never forget them and this memory. I looked at the green and flawless tree from a distance, that is, under the rain and the tree, there were my innocent friends.

Xia ri Ji yi composition 7 xian town

Although summer is very hot, it always reminds me of my childhood. Fragments of memory are like recorded tapes, burned disks or copied files. Although it has been several years, it is still there every time I want to open it. But time waits for no one. I'm afraid that when I get old, these memories will be "wet" and fuzzy, and finally go with the wind. Therefore, I decided to write down my childhood memories now, which is equivalent to taking advantage of the fine summer weather and taking out clothes for the whole winter to dry.

(1) catching cicadas

I remember catching cicadas as a "game" to accompany me through my childhood holiday. There is a forest of fruit trees outside my village. To the north of the orchard is a road leading to other villages. It is said that the road is not paved with asphalt, but made of crushed stone, and then compacted with soil and sand. Therefore, this kind of pavement is useless, and it will become uneven if it is crushed by vehicles for a long time. But the trees on both sides of the road grow tall and lush, and the nearest one is Fatong. Old skin died in summer, just like vitiligo peeling off one by one; There are several rows of neatly arranged poplars outside the fatong tree, with different thicknesses, high and short, and dense branches and leaves. This is where my friends and I often hang out and catch cicadas.

Often, before we get close to the Woods, we hear the chorus of cicadas from a distance. The sound of cicada rises and falls, but it is all a note "cicada, cicada-". As soon as we got close to the tree, the cicadas seemed to have found us, so they immediately stopped, but some of them were slow to respond, so they stopped, and finally they all heard a purple ending. We are very experienced in catching cicadas. We pretended as if nothing had happened, and walked casually without looking at the trees. When we know that we are not hostile, we may sing impudently again. At this time, we know that our opportunity has come. We picked up the cicada catcher on the ground. Actually, it's a musical instrument. It's very simple. Generally, we find a wire, hold one end in a ring shape, sew a small cloth pocket sewn in advance on the wire ring, and finally fix the other end of the wire on a slender bamboo pole, thus making a cicada catching tool.

After we choose the right target, if we don't walk in a straight line, we will scare the cicada away. Instead, go around the back of the tree first, and the bamboo pole for catching cicadas will be sent up slowly. At the same time, we moved to the front of the tree When we looked up, there were usually several cicadas lying on the trunk, some with their tails up and some motionless. The shiny cicada sticks to the poplar skin, which is clear at a glance. The leaves swayed with the wind, and the sun kept leaking out. We will bring the net closer to the target bit by bit, but we should pay attention to the opening of the net to force the cicada to pass through, and then cover it quickly when the net is only a short distance away from the cicada. If we are lucky, two or three people will be arrested. The cicada in the pocket fluttered and cried, but it didn't help. We reached into our pockets and pulled out the loudest one to listen to it sing. As soon as it stopped, we squeezed it with a little force, and it continued to sing. It was fun. In order to prevent the cicada from flying, we usually cut off its wings and it will be "very difficult to fly". In the process of catching cicadas, cicadas often fly to trees in surprise, and when they fly, they spit out a tail of liquid. We are often sprayed under trees, but we don't care, so we cheer and chase them and catch cicadas elsewhere.

(To be continued)

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