In daily study, work and life, many people have written compositions. Writing is a kind of speech activity with strong comprehensiveness and creativity. What kind of composition can be called an excellent composition? The following is a 600-word composition about the scenes in Memories collected by Bian Xiao. Welcome to read, I hope you like it.
The scene in my memory is 600 words, 1.
As the sun sets, the window is full of gentle orange lights. I've been praying all day, and I'm lying on the table and resting wearily.
"Yao Yao, let's go! Let's set off fireworks together! " Mom opened the door and said happily. Visiting relatives during the Spring Festival every year is very troublesome and tiring. I was just about to say no when I saw my mother stop again. My mother in front of me was dressed neatly and looked at me with expectant eyes. In desperation, I got dressed and went out. In the car, watching my cousins make noise there, the old man and his children are talking and laughing, which is particularly warm under the orange light. It seems that the impatience before getting on the bus has been eliminated by this gentleness.
When I walked to the bridge, I saw the children scrambling to get the small guns. My parents use lighters to light guns for their children. The older generation looked at me with a smile, as if I was the only one away from these fireworks, and I felt a little lonely. The evening breeze blows on the face, and the reflection of the moon presents a silver plate in the water. The wind blew over the water, and the reflection of moonlight swayed gently along the water. I feel very relaxed and happy with all my heart. I stepped onto the bridge and watched the warm scene in it runs in the family. My mouth can't help bending up. We are a family, we are a warm family. This scene seems to remind me of the year before last, the year before last and every year. Every year, the Spring Festival goes by like this, and every scene overlaps and forms the "that scene". That scene is warm and beautiful, and it is easy to be overwhelmed by the busyness of life, which makes me ignore the significance of visiting relatives during the Spring Festival. The fire reflected the children's laughing cheeks, and the adults' worried but helpless smiles were nearby. I suddenly realized that the concept of "home" seems to have faded in my busy life. That scene woke me up. The family should be together, but they are so far apart. I shouldn't forget that we are family because of this distance. With the continuous development of economy, the sight in front of us may become more and more rare, so we should cherish it.
Facing the wind, the starlight on both sides of the bridge and the light extending to the horizon, stars and fire correspond to each other. I smiled and walked towards the scene and my home.
Scenes in my memory, 600-word composition, 2
I have met many people in my life, but I think my family is the best.
I don't like doing housework very much during the holidays. I always think that this is what women should do, and I have been in school for five days, so I have refused to do it because I want to have a good rest, but I have to do it because of my mother's forced request. At that time, I hated my mother very much, and felt that she should not blame me for housework, because she worked harder than her mother.
One hot summer, because there was no one to take care of me at home, I was asked to go to my mother's. I saw her working hard through the window. I thought it was nothing at that time, but I was ashamed to see the bean-sized sweat on my mother's forehead. I always thought my mother was lazy, but it was nothing compared with me. I see, my mother's hard work all day is for a better life, and my eyes are full of tears.
I have a bad habit at home, that is, I always put my hands under the table and put them away when eating. They always talk about me, but because of my rebellious attitude, I do the opposite. Later, I felt I was wrong. My mother said,' If you always put your hand under the table and let others see you, people will say that you are uneducated and always say that you are comfortable? I thought about it after listening to it, and it was really hard. " '
At home, our father is the pillar, because daily life costs money, so my father always works hard. In order to make us live a better life, my father also mentioned to us that because of his hard work, there is always pain on either side. Hearing this, I was deeply moved. My parents have paid so much for my life that I can only repay it through my grades.
Mom and Dad, I remember all your hard work and kindness to me, and you will stay in my memory forever.
Scene composition in memory 600 words 3
I used to be afraid of the dark. Even if I play with people, the darkness behind me will make me too scared to accept it. So, my mother took me on a quiet road, a path of memories.
This is a difficult path to find, and the entrance is covered with ivy on both sides. If you don't pay attention during the day, it is also the place where the corner is swept. Opposite this small mouth is the largest stadium on campus. There are countless people passing by every day, but once you enter the path, it is like entering a "magic closet" and coming to a new world.
The high moon attracts the earth with its holiness. The Parthenocissus under the moon is silvery white and has a sense of overlapping like a fish scale. My mother and I parted the leaves and walked into this secluded path.
If the outside world is colorful, then the inside world is silent and empty. This is a lonely path with abandoned old houses on both sides. They are not tall, only two floors, and each building is like a small tent, full of homesickness. But at the time, I didn't think so. I just think that old house is haunted. They hid in the corner behind this old brick wall, waiting for me to go in. Then the idea continued until I was alone. I went in during the day and found a mine model inside.
Weeds pass by from house to house, but they don't cover the dirt road regularly. Only the ancient ferns and rows of kidney ferns look at us on the roadside, as if they were the guardians of this quiet world, blowing with the breeze. These little ferns seem to miss us very much, because we are rare regulars in their long lives.
There are some big trees in front, some giant trees that five people can't hold together. As the elders at the end of the path, they will gently hang down long branches to protect the safety of new plants in stormy days. From a distance, the little moon in the sky became the yellow fruit they hung on the treetops. Walking slowly, they put the moon away, revealing a parasitic plant growing between their chapped brown skin, one leaf and two leaves. They are strangely purple in the moonlight, which is particularly charming, as if the spirits of trees are wandering.
This is the secret passage in my memory, a secret passage full of vitality in the dark.
Scene composition in memory 600 words 4
Snowflakes are falling leisurely. I go to school by bike and pass by the shop. A little girl with a green coat and crutches appeared in my mind.
That was a year ago. Although we didn't know each other, she extended a warm helping hand when I was in trouble, which purified my heart.
That morning, I had breakfast. Like today, I went to school by bike. I only heard a "plop" and got out of the car immediately. Oh! It turned out to be a little girl with crutches and a green coat who fell to the ground. I really want to help her. I can think of a recent biography: some disabled people pretended to fall on the road. Show it to passers-by If anyone helps her, tell her that someone knocked her down. I stopped at the thought of whether I needed help or not, with Mao Dun in my heart. Does it count? If she is that kind of person, I will not only lose face, but also lose money, thinking that I will get on the bus and leave.
After school at noon, I rode my bike home again and only heard a bang. I looked down, oh! The pedal of the car fell off, so I quickly got off to get it back, but I tried my best not to press it. "Can I help you?" I looked back and saw a little girl about my age. "oh! No car fell! " "Then let me help you." Then she picked up the pedal and began to step on it. I looked at her carefully: a pair of big eyes and a kind face. "Well," I took out my money, but she pushed my hand back and said, "I never asked for money for this little problem. I have learned to repair bicycles from my father since I was a child. Well, I can make some money, and then I'll leave. When I left, she also told me to help anyone who needed help. When she left, I found her with a cane in her hand. It turned out that she was a little girl in the morning, and I looked ashamed.
It's snowing, yes Her soul is as pure as snow. Looking at her figure, I seem to see a pure, tall and straight, vibrant little green tree.
Scene composition in memory 600 words 5
I am confused in the ocean of questions, look up, who am I? I am depressed in a tall building, leaning down, where I come from. The hometown in memory, can you still be there?
The golden rape field is full of vitality and beauty. When I was a child, I often walked in here and looked up at the tall rapeseed, and I didn't feel grinning. Some of them saw me coming and bowed their heads, still smiling on their faces; Some people stand up straight when they see me coming, trying to compare with me and see who is taller. The bright smiling face is golden, and this golden avenue extends to the horizon.
Oh, the vitality and infinite beauty of my hometown in my inner memory are still there.
The ancient deep well is magical and far-reaching. I like to sit quietly by the well and watch grandma wash clothes. The rough water rope leads the bucket into the deep ancient well. When the bucket falls on the water surface, it makes a crisp knocking sound, which brings a strange coolness to the water bearer. Grandma carried a bucket full of calluses and urged the well rope to jump into the water. Grandma scooped up buckets of water and soaked the clothes. She likes chatting with her aunt next door and washing clothes. The mellow local accent touches my young heartstrings on a sultry summer day. Transparent soap bubbles are shining with colorful light. Is this the shadow of the sun or the kaleidoscope of life?
Oh, the quiet and magical psychedelic memory of my hometown has been lingering in my mind.
Simple farmers, hardworking and simple. I climbed the hill and looked at the bumper wheat fields. There are no large machines running on the farmland, only farmers looming in the wheat waves. They leaned down, facing the earth, with their backs to the sky, so close to the soil. They are used to it, and they thank the land for everything it has given them. They waved sickles and harvested quickly, and their faces were filled with the joy of harvest.
Oh, I still remember my hometown's unpretentious character and contented mind.
I am no longer confused and melancholy, because my hometown has always been in my heart, giving me strength, turning into a warm current and flowing in my blood.
Oh, my hometown, you, is still in my memory.
Do you know that?/You know what? Sometimes a meaningful look can make your heart tremble.
To tell the truth, the zoo is a good tourist attraction. Many people, especially those children, like to visit the zoo.
However, I seldom go.
I don't want to go, and I dare not go at the same time.
I know you may find it hard to understand after listening to me, but it's all true.
As far as I can remember, I have only been to the zoo twice. When I first went, I was still young, only five or six years old. I 18 years old, the second and last time I went was in the sixth grade.
Like the first time, I walked into the gate of the zoo with joy, but I was shocked when I went in.
Because, in my first impression, what I saw was not those living animals, but one meaningful look after another. Indeed, the eyes are the windows to the soul. Through their eyes, I saw anger, despair, sluggishness and numbness.
These eyes, which used to appear in people, now appear in the eyes of animals.
Why do they have these eyes when they should be carefree? Have you experienced too much?
I thought the same thing.
I saw the noble and arrogant swan still swimming in the water, but the calm lake reflected their empty eyes. Death is like a calm deep pool, and I will never see those arrogant eyes again.
I saw the peacock, which was originally gorgeous and bright. Although the screen is still beautiful, its steps are still noble. However, those energetic eyes are gone, and there is only numbness in their eyes, which is the kind of numbness that is tired of the reincarnation of the world.
I also saw the despair in the eyes of monkeys and the indifference in the eyes of tigers. I want to ask, why do humans imprison them? Let people visit them like clowns every day and make them lose all their dignity. Is this to protect them? !
Man is the head of all souls, so he should bear the responsibility of all souls!
Since then, I have never been to the zoo. But those eyes remain in the depths of my memory and cannot be erased.
Scene composition in memory 600 words 7
I have done many things in my memory, some moved me, some admired me and some made me sad, but this shameful thing reverberated in my memory.
It was an afternoon in my second grade. When I came home from school, I saw a greasy dish on the table. Then I thought to myself: Why didn't my mother wash this dish at noon? It's interesting to watch mom do the dishes. I wash them, too. I remembered that my mother's washing water was frothy. She must have used soap. I took a small piece of soap, wiped the dish inside and out, and then turned on the tap and washed it again.
Because the foam was too slippery, the plate fell to the ground and broke in half. Oh, no! I stood there staring at the shiny plate. It was a long time before I came to my senses and quickly put the broken plates together and put them back in their original places. I feel nervous, just like holding a lively rabbit. I quickly put on my schoolbag, locked the door, hurried downstairs and waited for my mother at the intersection.
I waited and waited. When I saw my mother coming back, I immediately greeted her: "Mom, what a coincidence that we are going home together today." When I got home, I got into the room and pretended to read while my mother was cooking. After a while, my mother came to my room and asked me, "Did you break the plate?" I quickly said guiltily, "No! We came back together, remember? Could it be dad? "
After a while, dad came back. Mom asked about it, and dad was puzzled. He pondered for a while and said firmly, "Linlin must have broken it."
So my father came to my room and said, "Linlin, did you break it? Don't lie! " I waited for a while, got up the courage and said to my parents falteringly, "I came back today and saw one on the table." At this time, dad smiled and said, "So our little baby wants to help!" " But my father said sternly, "If you make a mistake in the future, you must bravely admit it. This is a good boy. "
With the change of day by day, I have forgotten a lot of things, and this matter still reverberates deeply in my memory.
Scene composition in memory 600 words 8
At a glance at the crossroads, an ordinary but moving figure is deeply portrayed in my memory.
On the weekend afternoon, the sun is just right and the wind is blowing gently. I was riding my bike on my way home. At the red light, I stopped at the crossroads in the city center. As the most prosperous area, all kinds of people and cars are constantly flowing, and the sound of horns is endless. Just then, out of the corner of my eye, I noticed him standing by the road.
That is a middle-aged man with glasses and a little fat. He was wearing a red vest of the mall staff and holding a large stack of colorful leaflets in his left hand. He was busy advertising to pedestrians at the crossroads. Apart from the red vest on his body, his appearance is not very eye-catching. His career is not noble, but he is busy with advertising, just like a stone falling into my heart lake, rippling in my heart.
He just stood there, facing the passers-by, quickly picked up one from a lot of leaflets and handed it to the pedestrians in front of him. At the same time, he bent down deeply to pedestrians, facing the ground with a simple and sincere action, and bent at 90 degrees. From then on, he made a standard bow to passers-by every time he handed out leaflets. Some people pick it up and throw it away without care; Some people turn a blind eye and just ignore his hands and bend over. It seems that he didn't appear beside them at all. However, his face was not discouraged or relaxed at all, and every gesture of handing out leaflets and bowing was still so pious.
The green light came on, and I stepped on the pedal of my bicycle, leaving his deeply bent waist behind.
I have seen many leaflets standing on the roadside, handing out their leaflets to passers-by, accompanied by a cliche that has no feelings and has been repeated countless times, but in my heart, the sincerity in their words is far less than his silent bow.
Scene composition in memory 600 words 9
He is a kind, helpful and brave man. He has sparkling eyes and a flat head. He loves to laugh and walks lazily.
He is my best friend.
In the cold winter, the sky is gloomy and the air is mixed with a little cold wind. Disappointed, I walked on the way back to the classroom and thought, "Tomorrow is the weekly exam, and I have no preparation at all. How to review when going back? " Just when I was worried about the weekly exam, I patted me on the shoulder and said, "What's wrong with you? What are you worried about? I replied: "Tomorrow is the weekly exam, and I have no preparation at all. What can I do? " He smiled and said, "It doesn't matter. Let's go up and review together. I'll tell you a good way to review and ensure that we can get good grades in the exam. "I suddenly felt a warm current in my heart. He ignited my heart with friendship and made me feel unparalleled warmth. In this way, we went upstairs and returned to the classroom. He sat next to me with a complete problem-solving book and helped me write down the knowledge points for me to remember. Then he tested me again and again, and so on, and I felt much better. He is really a helpful person!
Another time, before the exam, I forgot to bring my pencil case. I'm in a hurry. The exam is about to start. I am in a hurry. Suddenly the bell rang and the invigilator opened the book. I am more nervous, and my heart seems to jump into my throat. At this moment, a familiar voice caught my attention. I turned my head and saw it was him. He opened her pencil box and took out two pens for me. Suddenly I was relieved.
He likes playing basketball very much. Every time he goes to the big recess, he plays basketball. At first, he didn't play very well and people always made fun of him. He doesn't care about the ridicule of others, but he is more tenacious. Finally, after every failure, he became a basketball master.
He has many advantages, which are worth learning. He is not only my good friend, but also my role model, which is deeply left in my memory.
The scene in memory is 600 words, 10.
When the pen tip falls on the paper, beautiful fonts appear on the paper immediately. After a while, I published a beautiful article. The expression on her face when she meditated and bowed her head was deeply reflected in my mind.
She is my deskmate, and I have been sitting together for three years. Since the last class teacher retired and went home, we have been honored to sit together until graduation.
She is the top student in our class, and she has never been biased, while I am particularly biased and don't like dealing with those complicated mathematical formulas. She watches me do a math problem every day and helps me explain when she can't. I fell in love with mathematics in this kind of day-to-day practice, and I was no longer tired of those mathematical formulas, and my math scores were constantly improving. Finally, my math score actually broke the world record of 90 points.
Helping others is the traditional virtue of the Chinese nation. She passed on this virtue extremely thoroughly. Every time she organizes activities such as cleaning or drawing newspapers in class, she is always the first to raise her hand to help plan. Sometimes I can't help staring at her. She seems to be used to it. Every time she looked back, her mouth was slightly upturned, her eyes blinked and she turned her head to get busy with her work.
She runs very fast, and she is the head of our class in every sports meeting. Every time we go to physical education class, the teacher lets us move freely and everyone else is playing. She is the only one who runs on the playground. Sometimes she will drag me to run around the playground. If I run like this every day, I won't win the championship in the future. This referee is going to be laid off.