鹅卵石的故乡作文_写鹅卵石头的作文

鹅卵石的故乡作文

When I swim in a stream or walk along the beach, I am often caught by a stone — either round and smooth or flattened and small; or bright and lusterous or dim and dull; or glowing with诗情画意 or cracking down like a shadow.

The idea of wondering and imagining is as wild as the night's dream; the sight of looking at the beauty and grace of something so radiant is as serene as the sound of someone saying goodby to the man beside me. In the silence of the night, in the sleepiness of the day, in the quiet moments of the void, I can feel the profound emotions that flow through my veins. What ever it was from whom it came? When did it reside before all these events?

I have heard the story of混沌 and盘古开天，共工氏怒切不周山；山被倾倒，地陷于更深的坑位，石头堆积如山；先祖常用它为火源，女娲曾补天。可是它的命运终将消失在尘土之中。

But I have also read the story of a stone that is not seen, not heard, nor seen but its name is known. It has no home, no family, no country—it is just another fragment of time and space. The same stone is a symbol of beauty, a reminder of hope, and a bridge between worlds—between two people, between two places, even between two minds.

I remember reading the story that when this stone was created it became its own being; it was a builder who first saw the need for stone in his field; a builder who helped build a temple on its behalf; a builder who became the king of stones and rulers over all. So, the same stone is not only a source of beauty but also of strength.

And then I read the story of a man named轩辕 whose name brought him so much joy that he was the hero in a tale. He was a builder, a builder who saw the need for stones to hold up a city; he was a builder who helped bring together a land and a people; he was a builder who had to face all the odds—losses, losses, losses—and still make him proud forever.

The stone that once roamed the earth told its story of beauty, strength, and history. It was not just a rock but a bridge between worlds and between minds. The same stone is part of us and part of everything we do every day. Its tale is one of hope, of reaching for the stars above and below, of building and standing tall in the face of all that may come.

And as time passes, these stones become more and more rare. They vanish into the dust of the night; they disappear behind the mountains and hills of days. But their stories never fade. The stone is still there, a voice in my soul, a reminder of what it means to be human—beneath the clouds, but above the mountains; inside the earth, yet separate from all things.

It will always remind me that life is full of choices and risks, that every path has its own lesson. And yet, there is this stone in my pocket—a symbol of love, a reminder of hope, a bridge that connects us to the stars above. This stone is not just a rock—it is a heart that can grow into a home, a city, a nation, and beyond.