Dialogue Essays - Freshly Cut Grass

Prose of conversation - As a background of freshly harvested grass with the aroma of freshly cut grass, children play, shake back and forth, run the ropes and skip; some infants' infants I see them with pain and perseverance. The sun is overflowing: pull the convection of heat on the grass like carpet, dragging the smell of the body, stroking the corner of the pavilion, the tennis court, the flower bed.

I believe that my love for the fresh mowing scent can be traced back to my childhood at school. I went to school on the mountain, and our campus is full of grass. This is actually after-school entertainment to chase cricket and butterflies, and it is for unlimited friends' uniforms and hair claims, and for "Amor-seco" when we wait for a school bus Selection (Rectangle) Once you arrive, lie on the grass and see the clouds

August 27, 2012. First day of 2012 ~ 13 school year. The sun is shining, the sky is bright blue, the air is fresh lawn scent, the students are wearing the best school clothes; the school building is clearly excited. I scarcely know that the smell of gunpowder fills the cafeteria after 3 hours, the smile becomes tears, and the excitement fears.

Once at the age of 7, I played soccer on a fresh lawn until a street light turned on one night. McDonald's happy meal My parents got my brother, I finally attracted us to the room. Between my cheeseburger and Crystal Clear Pepsi's engagement, I remember thinking it might be the best night of my life. In later life, happiness is a balloon that can never be touched. This is often told by our great thinkers and critical thinkers. Siegmund Freud believes that some of humanity is dirty and violent in his book "Civilization and its dissatisfaction", so we can not achieve happiness. Although we are looking forward to our celebrities we tend to see their dissatisfaction and agree

In most cases, people will miss the happiest time. The time you want us to be absent is more important than anything else. That is why we are absorbed in the sense of that age. For me, this is the sound of an airplane on Saturday morning, the smell of fresh mowing, and the sun shining through the window. I remember days like yesterday. This is a wonderful time. I miss that lifestyle. I miss that innocence. Now I am optimistic about the future. This is a progression that is similar to a patient with a lot of nostalgia. You regret having thought about something for a while, you regret it, and even make yourself into memory. Then you sit awkward and wait for the next class to distract your attention.