Old Place (Collection of 19)

Old place (1)

People always say that when you gain something, you will lose something. Standing at the intersection of time and space, suddenly looking back, I saw a row of straight plane trees and old peach trees, and smelled the familiar peach blossom fragrance. But in front of us, there are many weeds, withered branches and withered leaves, the red wall has become black, and the iron fence has become rusty. Back to the familiar old place, the path leading to my alma mater.

Through the deep valley of time, I walked quietly through eight years. The summer heat waves have dissipated in the morning, and the residual temperature of the wind blows across my face. Wearing the familiar blue school uniform, carrying a relaxed bag, wearing sneakers, walking step by step on the familiar road, this old place. The withered leaves in autumn, the white snow in winter, and the drizzle in summer have covered up the traces I have passed; But it cannot erase this endless road to study, leading to the old place of culture.

Years sew flowers, and the sound of rain in midsummer sews into the heart like flowers. The rain patted the huge plane leaves and rusty iron fences, wetting the gray asphalt ground; The thunder rumbled and shattered the peach blossom and red paint, leaving only an old scar. I stood puzzled under the eaves and didn't know how to go home. An umbrella once appeared in front of my eyes. You held the umbrella and asked me if I wanted to go home, and I quietly agreed. In this way, the window of friendship opens in thick clouds, in this old place.

The mottled stars guard the darkness of the night sky. His father's footsteps echoed in his ears. After chasing him, he felt more comfortable and walked quietly and happily. At this time, a voice called me. At the moment when I was about to walk out of this path, it was my father's voice of exhortation. The voice I used to be most upset but very familiar with, but now it is so beautiful and pleasant. Unexpectedly, listening, my eyes were wet. A piece of ordinary words that could not be more ordinary contained the love that a father could give his son. It was in this old place that I first understood the father's love, which was extremely precious.

Peach blossoms fall, red walls fall. In the long river of time, the old place has already "changed things and people". The path is also looming, and the long buried memory is awakened. In the familiar old place that has never been treasured, the lost part has been recovered. The word "treasure" is so heavy at the moment, and the old place cannot be returned finally.

Old place (2)

Time is passing, and everything in the world is changing slowly. Although the world is changing, people's precious memories are forever, but this time, I cried sadly because I saw the old place changed.

This summer vacation, I spent at my aunt's house. In those days at her house, I always missed the delicious snacks and high-quality stationery in the Drum Tower of my hometown. As long as I think of them, I can't help feeling homesick. However, whenever I seriously asked my aunt to take me home, she always kindly asked me to play for a few more days. It was difficult to refuse her kindness, so I just listened to the arrangement. With my repeated entreaties, I finally embarked on the journey home.

When I got home, I hurried to buy stationery with money. On the way, my mind was full of all kinds of stationery. In the scorching sun, I sweated and ran to the Drum Tower. As soon as I went in, I found that the second half of the Drum Tower was desolate and desolate. I was surprised that the money in my hand fell to the ground. The once bustling streets are now as desolate as ruins. I thought: maybe the merchants went out on business, so I went to Xieyang Clinic to find out. My grandpa said: "These merchants are my neighbors. Neighbors also have a look after each other. Now they have moved their old houses, and my clinic is fast." After hearing this, I felt a little lost, but society is going to develop after all.

The old place, even if you are not here, you are eternal in my heart, because you record my golden childhood.

Old place (3)

On a lonely night, I walked slowly by the lake. Breezes blew, but I found a lovelorn girl. At that time, I was very curious to go to 1. I asked softly, what are you doing? After a while, the lost girl still ignored me, and I passed her quietly, wondering if the lovelorn person was really so terrible?

ha-ha! I never fell in love again, and I was not in such a good mood that night. I walked around the lake again. To my surprise, the girl was still sitting there in a daze. A few days later, I walked to the lake with a happy heart. It was dusk and I was walking, or I met that strange girl in the old place that night. Strangely, that girl smiled at me, and I also smiled. Then I went to her side, greeted her, and unconsciously talked. In the future, this is also the old place she often came to!

Old place (4)

Put the flowers gently on the tombstone, and the delicate purple petals sway slightly in the wind. A touch of orange light suddenly appeared on the tombstone. The stone stele had some traces of erosion. The words originally carved became blurred under the effect of light. Turning around, I found that the sun had appeared from the mountains in the distance. The world was white, but there was only orange red, and the unknown river at the foot of the mountain was covered with orange ripples. After laughing all the way, we became very quiet after entering the cemetery. Now all we can hear is the intermittent singing of birds in the mountains.

Every Tomb Sweeping Day, we come here to visit the tomb. Everything is so familiar that no adult needs to remind us. But everything here is still moving. Suddenly, the sound of firecrackers comes from our ears. I know that we are going to leave, say goodbye to grandpa, and we go down the mountain.

After lunch, the gate of the ancestral temple was opened. My family slowly gathered in this small room. It was clear that they would worship ancestors together almost every year, but I still couldn't remember their identities. Unlike the lively greetings at lunch, most people in the ancestral hall smile. Standing silently, I also stepped over and stood with my cousin. I don't know when it began to rain outside. "Yayu, Yayu, Yanu". Rain is probably one of the most important signs here. I suddenly remembered playing outside the old house with my cousin many years ago. Suddenly, it began to rain. We quickly hid in the old house and found a new "toy" - baskets of corn kernels. Playing with corn kernels, "fighting wits" with cats, eating frozen juice in mineral water bottles, all kinds of memories seem to be in the rain.

When he came back to his senses, the old people in the family had already read a toast and lit incense. People moved forward in line according to their seniority, saluted and offered incense. The smoke generated by the incense swirled in the room, obscuring the words on the memorial tablet, which made people not really see, as if they were in the misty rain.

In the evening, the scattered people gathered again - the oldest old man in the family had died soon, and would go to see her in the evening. On the hill, an earth grave is surrounded by dense woods. Only on its head can there be a sky washed clean after rain, shining with stars. People held torches and walked around the grave three times in silence. The torch sways up and down. It looks good. The ground is soft after the rain, with the smell of soil.

I have never been here before, but when my father recalled his childhood, he mentioned it countless times - the grave of my ancestors. In the night, the ancient earth graves are really quiet and mysterious.

Here, there are memories of me, my cousin, my father and my family. Generations of people have been born, lived and died here. Living here from generation to generation and inheriting from generation to generation. In such an old place.

Old place (5)

Peach blossoms fall, red walls fall. In the long river of time, the old place has changed, the path is also looming, and the long buried memory is awakened. In the familiar old place that has never been treasured, the lost part has been recovered. The word "treasure" is so heavy at the moment, and it will not return to the old place in the end.

Old place (6)

Whenever it drizzles in dry Beijing, I always see the happy old place - the lotus pond in my hometown.

What first appeared in my intermittent and vague childhood memory was the small old lotus pond. My mother said that it was my favorite old place when I was young, and I often stayed there all day.

What impressed me most was the lotus leaf that shook its head all day long. There is light rain in the south, and light rain in the morning and evening. I still remember the way the leaves standing out of the water were dancing in the rain in the drizzle at night. The swaying hundreds of lotus leaves rise and fall with the sound of rain ticking, and then drop silver drops dyed by moonlight. Sitting in the octagonal courtyard of Tangbian, I looked at the "leaf tide" as if I was drunk in the drizzle. Happiness may be that you can be drunk in the beautiful scene like a lotus pond.

What is still fresh in my memory are those Lianpeng who have sailed for many years. It often rains after picking the fresh "white lotus seeds" and knocks the old lotus seeds down from their stems to let them sail in their boats. But where can they drive in the slow flowing lotus pond? After soaking in the water for a few days, these ships that have not yet sailed gradually sank in my amazing eyes. I think maybe the starting point of those ships is the destination!

What will never be forgotten is the scene where the owner of the pond took me to recognize the lotus in the summer. "This is Chiba in crimson color. You can see there are so many petals. The upper part is as red as fire, but the lower part is orange." The simple and unadorned introduction welcomed Nahe's frequent nods, as if receiving praise. "This is a kind of seed cultivated by our ancestors since the Qing Dynasty, beautiful! But the flowering period is short, and it will fail in a week or two, and it is not beautiful before it opens." Maybe happiness is to have a brilliant bloom in an ordinary life!

"Now I hope I can plant flowers every year and watch them. It would be better if I could marry a wife and have a child to pass on the old lotus pond." He suddenly blushed and scratched his head, "Alas, it's too far away. What can I say to the child?" This "no pursuit" remark is in my deep memory.

The owner of the pond may be a rude person with no culture and not too many flowery words, but he has some traces of the oldest thoughts in five thousand years. If he can revel in the beauty he likes, achieve a few small goals, and then have a glorious moment of his own, then how happy is the "no pursuit" goal of the owner of the pond!

The Old Lotus Pond, the old place in my memory, engraved the earliest happiness in my memory and let me remember the goal of "not pursuing". In the face of setbacks, there is at least one old place of happiness.

Old place (7)

"Hello, Xiao Nan? Let's gather at the same place when we get together on Sunday." After the call, my mouth turned up.

During the National Day holiday, several junior high school seniors organized a reunion, and I was responsible for informing those who played better in junior high school. The old place is the snack bar in the alley on the left side of the school. We used to meet there when we went out to play. "Alas, where is the old place? Is it a new hotel?" "Sorry, I have an important meeting next Sunday, and may not be able to come!" I was stunned by the messages scrolling on WeChat.

Time has changed, many years have passed. Some people miss the past, and some people bury their former self in the soil, which corrodes with the years. In this busy era, how many people sacrifice their rest time for the good salary and the high-level position of the company? Bury your past for a new future?

Why? In order to live in this society, to get the approval and admiration of others? In this era of advanced science and technology, the hierarchy concept of feudal society is still lingering. People with high salary and rich family background are recognized as superior in the public consciousness; Work is like being an official, which is divided into nine grades: first, second... Different posts are different positions. The higher the rank, the more salary, and the different people's eyes on you.

Back in the past, in this old place, we shared a fried chicken and chatted aimlessly. We complained about a teacher's ruthlessness because she assigned too many homework and talked about the lovebirds in the class who had fallen in love with each other. We talked about eating their candy in the future

In retrospect, how touched I was. So I put down the high-end dress I just picked up and bought with the crowd, pulled out the school uniform at the bottom of the wardrobe and put it on. Maybe I should meet my classmates in the most sincere way, instead of wearing the money veil that society has put on me.

When I arrived at the old place, I saw the old shop sign. I relaxed my eyebrows and imagined that I would meet my classmates again later. But when I saw women with delicate faces and men in suits coming to me, I was a little confused. Such a group of strangers talk about clothes and shoes of various brands, showing what kind of house they live in, what kind of car they drive, and how much their annual salary is

Brand names are created to distinguish the material gap between people? The poison has spread to all walks of life and has a great influence. The hierarchy concept of money supremacy has been rooted in countless people's minds. Young people, we have boldly rushed out of this cage to live out our own colors. However, some people will live extraordinary lives, while most people will fall into the secular world and become ordinary people, busy walking corpses for value and money.

The old place can no longer go back... In this busy era, this era of clear hierarchy. Who else remembers those brave teenagers in the old place?

Old place (8)

I rode unsteadily from the center of the city on the bus, watching the distant scenery from the towering city buildings to the Gobi at the end of the horizon. Where is the Dunhuang Mogao Grottoes, an ancient legend that has emerged in my mind for countless times?

Finally, a tall "wall", which is similar to a mound of soil, came into my view. It stretches endlessly. The countless black holes on the "wall" are those caves. They are like scars. The more you go forward, the more you will find. It is frightening. The outer wall has already become precarious due to the strong wind and sunshine for thousands of years. It stands on the desolate Gobi in a dilapidated but dignified way, like a painful and old elder who is struggling to recover the glory of the past. I have met this place countless times in my dreams, but what I see now is the desolation and desolation of a strange world: I am no longer familiar with it!

Stepping into the cave, it seems that the dazzling sunlight outside has never visited this dark little cave. Everything is dark as if it came from the ancient chaos. In the darkness, there seems to be a heavy and wet smell. I approached the wall carefully, trying to find every trace of antiquity. At this time, a long flying belt attracted me, and I followed it slowly forward. I saw a little fairy playing a musical instrument, and his skirt belt was flying and stretching, like the flowing Milky Way. Through some mottled and falling wall layers, I could still vaguely distinguish the once gorgeous color - Flying King. Different from the pictures on the PPT magnified in class, he looks so small under the tall bodies of other Buddhas at the moment. Like him, there are many flying stars. They are the most humble Buddhas. They will appear with singing and dancing only when they celebrate. But after the catastrophe, the smallest of them survived. When I looked back, I found that there was a sad blank on the opposite stone wall, which was still terrible in the surrounding murals that were yellow because of the age - this is not the Dunhuang in my mind.

More than 100 years ago, Stein forced his valuable murals away with glue and brought them back to Germany. Eventually, he became the "hero of exploration" in the eyes of Westerners. The white stone wall seemed to be a fragment of a national civilization, but no one paid attention to it. The Mogao Grottoes have stood in the sand of the Gobi for thousands of years since they were excavated, which is the pride of Chinese civilization. In my dream of Dunhuang, there is no sad past and humiliation, but only the glory of a thousand years and the glory of civilization. However, in this old place I know, where even China was proud of, I can only ponder those ancient stories after suffering and vicissitudes of life.

Our car sped away from the Mogao Grottoes. In the distance, the huge earth wall slowly moved away from us - its body was covered with countless scars. That is the scar of a country, but also the scar of an ancient civilization. Like it, we can only sigh silently about the ruthlessness of time in the face of the distant history. This old place engraved in my heart is a kind of silent inheritance and memory. Generation after generation of literati stop here and go away. What remains unchanged is a nation's memory of history and desire for the future, as if they are in time and space, talking with ancient and modern times. Dunhuang will always be in the deepest part of my heart, and will not die with time.

The wind is blowing over the Gobi. The wind blew up the scattered sand and stones, and passed through the rows of towering poplars, whistling like an old man in vicissitudes of life, unable to sing the ancient songs. The sound was very heavy, but it seemed to penetrate every layer of skin and hit my heart again and again. Mogao Grottoes quietly disappeared at the end of the horizon in the blood red sunset, and the Gobi was also red by the glow, which seemed to be bleeding and infinite solemn and stirring.

Old place, old sorrow.

Old place (9)

After school, when I left school, I habitually turned right, crossed two intersections, and then turned right into an alley. The noisy shop in front of me made me shocked: this is not the case here. By the way, the coffee shop is no longer there. Standing at the corner of the alley, I suddenly fell into the vortex of memories, unable to extricate myself for a long time.

Open the glass door, and the strong coffee fragrance will come to my face. Walking in slowly, the soles of the shoes made a crisp sound on the wooden floor. Sister Chen behind the counter turned her head and smiled at me: "Coming?" I smiled and nodded. Sister Chen is the shopkeeper here. She is in her early twenties. She has a slim figure, a pair of beautiful almond eyes embedded in her white face, and her black long wavy curly hair is casually placed on her left shoulder, which looks very gentle. She loves to laugh, and her smile is as pleasant as the genial sunshine.

The environment in the coffee shop is the same as that of Sister Chen: elegant and generous. The khaki single sofa is neatly scattered in the shop. On the wall are several paintings and photos that I can't name. At the bottom of the wall are flowers and plants planted by Sister Chen, adding a little vitality to the coffee shop. The music in the store is Beethoven's piano music. He is Sister Chen's favorite musician. I sat on the sofa, my mood slowly calmed down, and I slowly enjoyed this pleasant time. I believe that even if the person in a bad mood comes here, he will calm down and no longer be upset.

At this time, Sister Chen brought a cup of coffee and said, "Drink." Then she sat opposite me. I don't know when I became so familiar with her, just like my best friend. I looked down, and there was a cute dragon cat on the coffee. Its plump figure made people like it. Sister Chen and I talked while drinking. From classmates to study, we talked about the goose yellow chiffon dress she wore today. This coffee shop seems to have magic power, which can wash away all my bad mood and replace it with infinite indifference and tranquility.

The setting sun is sinking into the earth bit by bit. I should go home. I stood up, said goodbye to Sister Chen, and walked out of the coffee shop happily. At this moment, my heart is like a calm lake, clear to the bottom, without waves.

The harsh online songs brought me back from memory to reality. I frowned at the fried chicken shop in front of me. In April this year, as the contract expired, the fried chicken shop "ruthlessly occupied" the coffee shop's territory. The shop in front of me was poorly decorated, the music was harsh, and the service provided by the clerks was not so considerate. I turned around and walked out of the alley without looking back. In my heart, I feel lost. I feel like I am missing something

That old place, that elegant sister Chen, has long been deeply imprinted in my heart. No matter how time grinds, they will never die.

Old place (10)

Don't go to the noisy modern metropolis Beijing. Walking in the quiet and fresh old place makes me feel more peaceful and comfortable.

"Guilin's landscape is the best in the world." This kind and simple old place is my second hometown. A mountain and a river are deeply impressed in my mind

I have climbed the majestic Mount Tai and visited the Fragrant Hills with red leaves, but I have never seen the mountains in Guilin. Guilin's mountains are really beautiful, like green barriers, like newborn bamboo shoots, bright colors, reflecting the water; The mountains in Guilin are so strange. They rise up one by one, unconnected with each other, like old people, giant elephants, camels. There are many strange peaks in various shapes. Such mountains surround such water. Every rainy season is my favorite season. Sit on the raft and play a flower umbrella, listening to the sound of rain quietly. The raindrops hit the river, splashing water, rippling in a circle of ripples and ripples. The scene in front of me is like a Chinese ink painting, a painting with a unique Chinese national flavor. The tranquil and harmonious atmosphere, which sweeps away my worries and anxieties, is familiar and kind, and only belongs to my old place with beautiful mountains and rivers.

I also like to stroll the West Street of Yangshuo in the night when the stars are thin and the moon is cold. Warm lights and beautiful folk songs linger around me. The unique enthusiasm and openness of the Zhuang people add happiness and beauty to the quiet city. Come to the left to browse the shops selling ethnic costumes. Bright and ethnic clothes make me linger; Go to the right to see Yangshuo's special snacks, which are totally different from the sugar and pastry in the north, and also make me feel different emotions. Different from the Han nationality, I feel the richness and depth of Chinese national culture, and this Chinese family brings us together. The brightly lit night is my unique old place.

I love riding a bike to the Big Banyan Park. The ancient trees stand proudly despite the vicissitudes of life. Standing under the tree and looking up at it, it seems to be the witness of history. The changes of the times symbolize the vitality of Guilin people. This old place full of vitality and high spirited style makes me yearn for and pursue. This is my beautiful old place, familiar and kind, and also the most beautiful place in my heart.

Old place (11)

I'm still waiting for you there until you take me to heaven—— notes preceding the text of a book or following the title of an article

Dogs are loyal, and they will never leave you. Even after you are dead, it still insists: My master is still waiting for me, and I can't leave him!

Xiaoba in the movie "Loyal Dog Babong" is such a dog. It is a pure Akita dog with noble pedigree. Its owner, a professor, died of a stroke in a lecture.

After the owner died, others would take Xiao Ba away, and he protested by refusing to eat or drink. Finally, others had to let it stay there. Let it continue to search for the memory of its owner.

It is still waiting there, although its owner will never come back, but it has been standing there. Look at all kinds of people in front of the railway station to see which is its owner. Spring, summer, autumn and winter never stop. Slowly, he settled down here and fell asleep under the train at night.

The days passed by. One day, when Xiaoba was going to bed, he suddenly felt something. So, it did not move and still stood there.

Suddenly a strong light came, accompanied by the sound of whistles, and the train came! Xiao Ba looks over there hard. A familiar figure came down from the train. It was the master. The master came back! It screamed and ran to the master. It threw itself at the master. The master also held it tightly and went home with it! Slowly, it closed its eyes peacefully and happily... It and its owner finally entered the beautiful heaven together

I cry. Xiao Ba is so loyal and misses his master so much. What is loyalty and what is perseverance? Xiaoba perfectly explained it with his life: "This is loyalty! Stay together forever!"

Old place (12)

I like to walk along the river bank of Nanjing alone, and look at the city with the river breeze at Zhongshan Dock. I have seen the city that has haunted me for countless times. What I live in is the old place in history Nanjing.

I can't remember how many times I walked in the twilight by the Qinhuai River, looking at the afterglow left by the sun, like golden brocade, to the depths of the earth, and the Qinhuai River in the moonlight and breeze, the lights were on. I like to watch the "Yuliang Ferry Struggles for Crossing", and I prefer to listen to the heartbeat of Qinhuai River - the wave after wave, the call of life that never stops. Every night along the Qinhuai River always makes me feel a different style. On both sides of the river, countless people pushed their cups and changed them. On the boat, tourists sang in the glow of stars. Perhaps as an old place, what we see is no different from what Li Shangyin sees, but what about those nobles? Where did the song "Yushu backyard flowers" go? With the destruction of the Chen State and the Southern Tang Dynasty in mind, the Qinhuai River washed away the relics of these people with the river water, eliminated the bad and the bad, and eliminated the splendor and wealth, leaving only the simple and noble Confucius Temple in the world. The emperor has changed, the dynasty has changed, and the splendor and wealth have gone to dust. But the Confucius Temple is still on the Qinhuai River, watching the pomp with gentleness, courtesy and frugality, and purifying the soul after the pomp has gone. The old place may be because of its history, which can give people the power to break away from everything, make people jump out of the secular world, stand on the height of history and laugh at life.

I have also wandered through the Presidential Palace with its vicissitudes, thick gates and magnificent buildings. This old place built the Republic of China and sent it away. For more than a hundred years, this place has been green. The once power center has been honed into a courtyard for future generations. "The flowers and plants in Wugong buried the trail, and the clothes of the Jin Dynasty became ancient hills." The presidential palace is old, and has experienced too many things. It has witnessed the birth of the republican regime in China, the breathtaking warlord scuffles in the early years of the Republic of China, and the Japanese army destroyed Nanjing... There is no president in the presidential palace, and only tourists lament the ignorance and corruption of the former Kuomintang people. The presidential palace is still there, but where are the reactionary leaders? It is well said in Some People: "People who yearn for immortality, their corpses rot earlier than stones!" The Presidential Palace is an old place. After a hundred years of wind and rain, it left behind good and drove away evil.

Perhaps it is the historical background of Nanjing that gives me a chance to see the world from a historical perspective. Qinhuai River and Confucius Temple gave me an ordinary heart not to pursue fame and wealth; The Presidential Palace taught me to distinguish right from wrong. Nanjing, an old place, has taught me a lot and made me benefit a lot in life.

Old place (13)

Chongqing, my hometown and the love of my life, is really too important for me. No one can give up my love for it. I have been away from it for too long. Miss, care, I close my eyes every night is it.

I returned to this old place again with excitement.

I was born here, and my roots were deeply buried here from the moment I landed, which doomed my life to be inseparable from it. I grew up here. Almost all the good things I experienced were born here, especially my childhood. A kind of expectation and long lost emotion just landed resonated with me in this warm homeland. But gradually, the scenery along the way has erased the fierceness; where's this? Everything in my memory is gone. Although it is my hometown, it is cold and strange.

Through the streets, my heart became colder and colder, as if it had been hollowed out.

Finally, in the darkness, I returned to my childhood favorite "Happiness Square". The familiar and worn slide is still there, but it is only like a match burning alone in the winter night, emitting the faintest light and heat. With the music, colorful lights and fountain dance, this is my favorite program when I was a child. The fountain is smooth and elegant, like the white skirt of a ballet. The elegant blend of light, music and ballet is like my eyes and memory. The children running in the square in front of the Great Hall of the People disappeared with laughter and shouting. No one will run away. The original density becomes empty, and children hold their mobile phones in silence. Childhood games will not be passed on by big brothers and sisters, but will only stay in a corner of Baidu where no one cares. Once the trees beside the road interlaced the branches and leaves, the gaps in the green sky poured rainbows, and the old wires nestled in the trees, quiet and leisurely. But in order to make the downtown area open and valuable, people have replaced the quiet with buildings. But Chongqing has always been known as "slow". Just like flowers will die without rain, the old men playing chess under the shade of trees have disappeared, the "Bangbang" enjoying the cool under the shade of trees and the old men drinking tea have disappeared, because this leisure is not allowed in the fast-paced urban development. The deep and secluded mountain city is now bare. Empty and desolate, I seem to find that the old place will eventually become a new place.

Old place, new place, I feel helpless and sad for you.

Old place (14)

As the sun sets, I walk in the campus again, capturing every inch of time that seems to be left

The melodious bell for static school rang. Once, following the steps of the bell, we hurried out of the campus and got on the bus together with the parents who greeted us with a sweet smile. Sometimes I take my friends to the park to play until dark at night. I will never go home until my parents urge me again and again. Six years of time is much easier. In this old place that I have not seen for a long time, it is performed again and again, and I never tire of it

Walking along the road, a rush of footsteps came from behind. Looking back, the three children, who seemed to be only in the second or third grade, hurried to the school gate. In a trance, I seemed to see the famous three gang team in the attached primary school. Once inseparable, laughter and frolic have become the smoke of the past. Fate is deceiving. My former friends are scattered all over the world now, with few contacts. The once unbreakable friendship finally showed its fragility and vulnerability in front of time, and gradually faded away

On the basketball court, here began the simplest basketball dream. From the super rookie who can't even practice dribbling to the player who is now familiar with playing the ball, it starts here. On the spur of the moment, I found a basketball, dribbling, faking, and layup. The continuous action was done without thinking. After a while, a few drops of sweat came down, and the setting sun passed through, but another picture was reflected

That afternoon, the neat red team uniform opened the curtain for the last battle of the Affiliated Primary School. Dribble, dodge, and score. Meditate in the heart that the game time has been reduced second by second. The fight for the seventh prize started at the affiliated primary school, counting the passage of time and waiting for the final outcome. The whistle broke through the sky, sweating, and high fives with teammates. We won the game with a three point lead of 57-54. Holding the championship and MVP trophy, tears could not help but pour up - farewell, soon

The graduation exam is inevitable. The bell rings relentlessly, and everything is still quiet. The classroom was silent, everyone looked at each other, reluctant, filled in everyone's eyes. No one cried, but most of them tried to smile and said goodbye and best wishes to their closest friend Lao Tie. Everything calms down, buried in time and space, and treats people with aftertaste

In the most memorable old place, the setting sun splashed on the path, which was very beautiful. Six years' time is better than thousands of beautiful scenery. Here, the most familiar old place, will be buried forever, forever, forever

Old place (15)

That is an electric room in the community. It is not very high, and it protrudes one grid at a time. This gave me an inspiration to climb up. Since then, it has become my secret base and my old place. But as I grew up, my studies became busy, and I didn't go much anymore, it also became a thought in my heart.

There, accompanied my time, shared my happiness, comforted my sadness, and with the loss after the exam, I climbed up skillfully. Sitting beside the railing, there are green ivy crawling behind me. The wind blows through the large leaves, "rustling", and it seems that they are telling me relieved words. It is like a low but gentle voice with a slight hoarse voice, talking with me in a low voice, leading my sadness out and disappearing. Overhead, there is a tall tree. When I sit up, it just reaches the leaves. It is like a pair of hands, caressing my head and patting my shoulder. The tree is covered with wisteria. When it blooms, it looks like a round little grape, more like a string of purple and pink small bells, several of which hang on the top of the tree. When the wind blows, it brings the fragrance of flowers. It is sweet, but not greasy. It seems to hear those purple little bells collide, crisp but not harsh. Everything is so gentle, like a soft embrace, holding me, so that I forget my sadness and loss. I am trapped, unable to extricate myself, and unwilling to break free. At this time, it was like an elder comforting me, accompanying me through sadness and happiness.

But there, more like my friends, I still remember the first time I met it, I was lost because I had no friends, and it magically appeared, quietly, when I needed it most. Climbing up, sitting down and blowing the wind, it seemed to become "her" and a quiet girl. The quiet side face and long hair floating in the wind made me want to talk with her. Just like a normal friend, "Hey, let's be friends." I made a request, and she promised "OK". From restraint to familiarity, it only takes a short time. I said, and she responded to me with rustling leaves. We talked and laughed together. I seem to see the wind blowing through our entangled hair, blowing two tightly closed hearts. In this afternoon, I decided to spend my life with this "old friend", the old place.

I think my old place is not really an "old" place, but it carries too many memories of me. From childhood to adulthood, every happiness and sadness, every frustration and growth, it knows that it is enough to have this creeper, this wisteria, this tree, and this friend. It is enough to be simple and gentle. Even if I really leave here forever one day, it will stay in my heart and wait for my aftertaste in the most simple way after the test of time.

Old place (16)

Back to the familiar place, now, I can only stand outside the school and look up at the school, savoring the little things hidden in the corner.

The first thing I saw was the playground. It is still the bright red runway, green space in the middle, and the familiar leading platform. However, there are many strange goals on the playground, but there are still basketball stands on the playground. The playground has really changed, and the feeling of familiarity has also added a strange flavor. There are still pigeons hovering over the playground, which have accompanied us for four years. The joy arises spontaneously. Looking at the playground, I have shed many sweat and tears on the playground, which is encouraged, punished and taught by the PE teacher. Some are unwilling to avoid sports training, some are hard to run one lap after another, and some are happy to jump over the pole. Of course, there is the idea of giving up when running laps. These things are experienced again and again; There was pain when I was knocked by the pole when I jumped high; I have complained about the sweat of practicing radio gymnastics again and again in the hot sun. Now, when we go back, everything is bitter and sweet.

Entering the teaching building, it is still the familiar hall. It seems that after the baptism of time, it has not changed. I remember how many people united together in the voice of "Cup Song" that we left together when we were about to graduate. Now, it is full of emotion. Look at the classroom today. The classroom we stayed in for four years has been transformed into a training place for others. I still remember how many teachers stood on that platform; I still remember how many teachers used the blackboard; I still remember how many times the tables and chairs have been wiped. Everything has changed. Instead of the familiar old place, there are rows of musical instruments. The only thing that remains unchanged is the ceiling. When the activity was held, the classroom was decorated with flowers and balloons. I had visited the ceiling. I vaguely saw the teacher's figure in the classroom and the joy of fighting among students. I never forgot it, but I couldn't help but flash a trace of regret, It was the same old place and the same classroom, but it presented a different scene.

The classroom has changed, the playground is no longer so familiar, and the old place has changed, but every corner I have passed hides memories. The old place can never be returned, but the old place in my memory is sealed in my mind, and has been treasured in my memory

The old place will never be forgotten and will never grow old.

Old place (17)

In the summer when I was twelve years old, your figure suddenly broke into my heart. Every morning, when the sun is shining and the breeze is blowing, my favorite is the journey from the gate to the teaching building. When I smell the faint fragrance of flowers in the air and dance with the graceful willow branches, I am drunk in the embrace of nature. The only regret is that at this time, the early reading bell always wakes me up from my dream, shakes my head helplessly, gets up the "flying leg" you grind out, overtakes the "old class" in the corridor in time, and bursts into the classroom with a embarrassed posture in the laughter of classmates. And you? Look at us with a smile and silently write it down in my heart.

During the break, sit under the shade of the tree you built for us, play and gossip. You listen to our laughter and gently sway the branches, rustle, rustle, and smile. I still remember the first time we skipped class, with a small sense of guilt, holding the basketball, shaking excitedly, rushing through the art classroom like an arrow, coming to the court, immediately hugging and laughing wildly. You frowned, but eventually you shook your head in favor, as if blaming or forgiving.

As soon as winter comes, snowflakes will dress you in silver, and those stubborn flowers and plants appear somewhat abrupt. The cats in the campus were afraid that they could not stand it. They shivered and ran into the "Cold Mountain Resort" - the canteen. They had the cheek to rub our food, and did not look at their increasingly plump body. We hung the "fat cat's evolution theory" in the form of photos in the corridor, causing crazy postings. At noon, smelling the dazzling smell of ice and snow in the air, we let out our pent up impulse to rush to the park. Despite the biting cold on our hands, we grabbed the snow and hit it. After a long time, we were tired. Looking at a group of "snowmen" around us, we laughed again.

well! Old friend! In the twinkling of an eye, I will also become a graduate. In the twinkling of an eye, I will also leave your warm harbor and fly to the raging sea. You have witnessed my green years and silently remember my laughter, sadness, anger, disgust... Do you ever know that you are inextricably linked with me, tying my destiny to you. Ah, my old friend, you can sit there, and then you can welcome countless laughter. As long as there are traces of my running in the dust of your playground, and as long as there is my breath in your morning sunshine, they will become my driving force, my wings, and let me fly freely!

In the summer when I was twelve years old, I met you unexpectedly. From that moment on, my love for you never stopped.

Old place (18)

Since I can remember, a large uneven stone with holes in one corner of the courtyard is my favorite old place. Watching birds chirping on the top of the stone, I stumbled over to jump on the stone when I was still walking unsteadily.

When I arrived at the kindergarten, the stone became a paradise for me and my friends. I would sit on the stone and play at home. I tried to tear up the bamboo leaves on one side and put them into the stone pit to play, which is called "cold dishes"; Also, in the hot summer, we picked all kinds of rose petals from one side, crushed them and put them on the stone, and rolled them with our nails. The homemade nail polish was born. Of course, it is not very beautiful, and it will fall off with a touch. But we are still willing to try day after day, and sometimes chat on the boulder, It can be pulled from the little Balala fairy in the sky to the Pleasant Goat and Big Big Wolf on the green grassland... It's really a dance of hands and faces. Recalling the happy days when I spent my childhood with my friends, I really want to sincerely thank the big stone that has brought us a place to live!

When I arrived at primary school, I entered the cos circle. When I decided to leave the maki hanfu before I woke up, the first scene I felt appropriate was the corner of the quiet and peaceful park in the middle of my memory. A large and experienced stone was surrounded by tall and lush bamboo forests. What an ancient atmosphere, holding a small red umbrella and dragging a long skirt tail, Taking the camera with her makeup mother, she climbed onto the big stone, straightened her false eyelashes and looked into the distance. Listening to the "click click" shutter sound, I understood that my first feature film was born in this quiet corner. Now, I find it a good choice to write a book there. Pour clean water into the biggest pit on the stone and dip it in the pit with a big sponge pen. Imitating the copybook, the hands began to pause. From time to time, a faint faint fragrance of bamboo penetrated into the nose, which naturally calmed the mind. They all said that the mind was calm and naturally cool, and they could get a unique cool in the hot summer when others were complaining. The happiest thing in the world was just like this.

From small to large, my happiness has been closely connected with this big stone. It not only lives there forever, but also remains in my heart.

Old place (19)

"Grab the handlebar, don't shake it, step on the pedal, and go!" This is Grandpa teaching me to ride a bike in the yard. He bent down and grabbed the seat at the back of my bike. He pushed slowly first, then gradually stepped up his pace. When I got my balance, he released his hands and trotted all the way to protect me, in case I accidentally lost my balance and fell down. Every time he finished learning, grandpa would beat his old waist and legs, wiping his head with sweat and smiling happily.

"Point, run, cover your ears!" This is Grandpa lighting firecrackers. Every Spring Festival, the yard is always full of firecrackers and ashes. I saw grandpa carrying a box of fireworks and firecrackers. He spread the whip on the ground, took out a match box, took out a match, struck it, lit it, blew it out, and then ran quickly to us, took my cousin and I into our arms, and listened to the sound of "crackling" together. At this time, the light of the fire was reflected on his face, and grandpa was smiling kindly.

"Turning the top is a skill. The strength, position and direction of the whip can't be wrong." This is grandpa who taught me to turn the top in the yard. He is a master of spinning top and often competes with his old friends in the park. And every time, grandpa returns triumphantly. Grandpa picked up his medicine bottle and the top made of stone beads, wrapped it with a whip, and then shook it smartly, and the top began to dance on the ground. Whenever the top is exhausted, grandpa will slowly add a whip, and the top will be reborn. At this time, Grandpa always smiles proudly.

Now, grandpa is old, unable to bend down his waist and move his legs, so he sits in a wheelchair. As for me, I have no time to come to the yard because of my heavy study. The yard became deserted and there was no laughter anymore.

I know that people cannot live in the past all the time. As long as they move forward, there is always something to give up in order to open up new worlds.

Farewell, yard! You are the old place that has accompanied me for many years. You will always be in the softest corner of my heart. I hope that in my dream, I can return to you and relive those beautiful memories!