People love spring, its vitality, its gentle breeze and drizzle, and even more its beautiful scenery. The content I bring to you below, I hope it will be useful to you.

Chapter 1: Spring Rain

Author: Chu Di

I have been looking forward to it all winter, and finally, you are here.

As soon as I opened my eyes, your glittering and translucent figure was already swaying in front of my window, and your crisp throat voice was knocking on my window paper. How eagerly you put on your coat and open the door! I welcome you.

Looking at you, my eyes cannot shift for a moment; listening to you, my eardrums cannot miss a syllable. From the distant sky to the deserted plains, you are struggling with birth and death every minute and every second. The joy of life and the fear of death sing and shout: Ding Ding Dong Dong. I am really greedy, greedy to hold you and have you. So, I sniffed you, smelled you, and soothed you with my cracked lips. The anxiety of waiting for so many days is smooth and moist when I kiss you.

Come on, my dear. Look back through time with me and take a look at the boy who listened to the rain ten years ago. In the West Lake in April, the yellow willow eyebrows have fallen, and they are colorful in the light blue sky and lake light. That day, on Yanziji, I leaned against the "Red Mansion" and dreamed of the rich fragrance of the old capital of the Six Dynasties. You caressed me with the coolness on my cheeks, dripping with it. Do you really want to say goodbye? In the carriage going north, there is a basket full of lightness, which is a gift from you. From Suzhou to Pennsylvania, only the radio still said "Jianghuai" and "Huangmeiyu".

Ten years have passed, ten years of scenery outside the Great Wall. The taste of the North only comes when the sky is covered with snow. The white branches, white rocks, and white glaciers all reflect the strength and strength of Huchengguan Mountain. Northeastern people like to use red bricks to build houses. There is a kind of arrogance and glitz in the bright colors. After living there for ten years, I have never gotten used to it, so I had no choice but to hang a wind chime outside the window, stroll around Hanshan Temple at night amid the soft Kunqu opera, and think about the green mountains and green waters in my memory. Everyone in the south of the Yangtze River likes blue bricks, which stand plainly in the fields. Occasionally, there will be a burst of raindrops on the tiles, creating a gray* tenderness.

Can the wind*** be the sound of rain in my hometown? Can the dream tonight be the same as that of the boy listening to the rain? The warm current is drifting from there...

Come on, my dear! Give me the slightest hint of the South. He couldn't throw himself into her arms, and being glanced at by her could be considered a comfort.

I have been looking forward to it for more than 3,600 days, but still cannot set a return date.

I have been looking forward to it for a whole winter, and the crystal clear you will fall from the clouds in my hometown, and fall on the tips of my hair, on my lips, and in the bottom of my heart...

Chapter 2: The Return of Spring Swallows

Author: Li Yanlin

Spring has come with nimble and staggering steps, and the groups of swallows in tuxedos have also returned home from the south in style.

Swallows are truly spring elves.

The mountainous countryside in the early morning is elegant, quiet and warm. The wheat seedlings have just turned green, the trees are sprouting and fluffing, the farmhouses are simple and simple, and there are wisps of smoke rising from the kitchen... as if they are a cloud. Covered in thin gauze, hazy dreams. The swallows who woke up spread their wings and flew out of the nest lightly, one after another... The chirping sounds broke through the silence of the mountains. After a while, swallows were flying everywhere among the green trees and on the roofs of farmhouses. . Sometimes it flies up and down like an arrow in the blue sky, scattering white clouds and wisps of smoke; sometimes it perches on the roof or in front of the door, looking around leisurely with square steps. The long wires in the distance are often covered with dense dots, like a string of musical notations singing about the scenery of a mountainous countryside, or like a row of children who have just gone to school listening to commands and doing morning exercises. The scenery has a unique charm.

Swallows love lovers, and they also love home. Regardless of whether you are rich or poor, regardless of the height of the house, as long as you choose a house and build a nest in which house, you will travel thousands of miles next spring, regardless of the wind and rain, and go through hardships, to continue to return to the old landlord's house. When you walk in, you will see that the bird's nest on the roof beam must be intact as before. Although new swallows come to the mountain village every year, the owner and the parents of the new swallows are old acquaintances and old neighbors. The swallow and the farmer treated each other as guests, lived in harmony, and spent this wonderful time together.

Spring is the busiest season for farmers. Farmers go to the fields before dawn to plow, sow, and weed. If there is a drought, it becomes even more tiring, working hard day and night.

At this time, if you go to the mountain village, you will find a strange phenomenon: the doors of many farmers' houses are locked, but the doors of the main rooms are wide open. It turns out that the owner was worried about hindering the swallows from coming in and out, so he simply left the door of the main room open when he went to work in the fields. Whoever's house has swallows living in it, and whose house can keep the door of the main room open, will be blessed and auspicious, and will be waiting for messages of harvest and joy.

It was a very peaceful morning, with a gentle spring breeze that felt warm on my body. I sat under the big locust tree in the yard and read quietly. Suddenly a burst of Yan language fell from the sky. The lively and clever nest of swallows living in my house returned from foraging for food. Before entering the house, they settled on the plane tree at my house and discussed something excitedly. The words were spoken one after another, eager and cheerful, like a group of primary school students returning from a spring outing, chattering endlessly to describe what they had seen and heard. The old swallow watched the little swallow become more and more mature, and he was excited, flying up and down, dancing. I couldn't understand their words, but I clearly felt their happiness. I admired it intently, and suddenly the little swallow quietly landed on the dining table where I was studying. I held my breath, looked at it carefully, and couldn't help but smile softly and slightly. Being in such close contact with this elf actually made me very excited, and nervousness and joy quickly spread through every nerve in me. I can see every feather of it clearly, and the milk hairs that have just grown are fine and dense, black and white. The little swallow had black and bright eyes, yellow lips, and its little head shook back and forth. It also pecked my book a few times with its bright yellow mouth, showing a bit of innocence and naughtiness. We can't communicate in words, but I can understand its innocent and friendly eyes. I puffed my mouth and whistled gently, and it nodded happily. We are like a pair of good friends, waiting for this short but wonderful time with each other's sincerity and kindness. In that happy and grateful look at each other, I felt extremely relaxed, and the fatigue and depression that had accumulated in my heart for several days drifted away with the figure of the little swallow.

In spring, swallows compete to show off their graceful dances, feeling the caress of spring and the joy of life. They live in harmony with people, hunt insects, protect crops, and wait for farmers' harvests. Autumn is here, and we have to lead our children on long journeys through mountains and rivers, resisting the torrents of storms and the scorching sun, and even exhausting their lives. Therefore, she knows how to cherish life better. Once she settles down, she is always loving and harmonious. Xiao Yanzi enjoys the unlimited love of her elders. Soon after the swallow came back from the south, the little swallow was born. At this time, the old swallow was extremely diligent and busy catching all kinds of lively little bugs. As soon as the old swallow flew into the house, the little swallow opened its yellow mouth and started chirping and fighting for it. When the little swallow was full, he started to act coquettishly, resting his head on the old swallow's body, and then slept quietly. The little swallow is growing up and it's time to learn to fly. I remember that there was a little swallow that was very timid. The other brothers and sisters would go out to look for food, but it still screamed timidly and flapped its wings but did not dare to fly out of the nest. The mother swallow became anxious and knocked it out of the nest with one wing. Unexpectedly, this little swallow flew a few times and landed on the floor of my main room. At this time, the little swallow became anxious, grinned and screamed loudly, begging her mother for help. The old swallow was worried that the child would be accidentally hurt, and was terrified. His screams were almost miserable and desperate. While he was fluttering around in the room, demonstrating, he was urging and encouraging eagerly, and he even wanted to take the little swallow into his mouth several times. stand up. The little swallow suddenly became wise, flapped its wings a few times, and flew crookedly into the yard and landed on the tree. The little swallow did not blame her mother, but sang and danced happily, which clearly said: Thanks to her mother's wings, she grew up and learned to fly. When the old swallow saw that the little swallow was in danger, he was relieved and felt that he couldn't let go. The little swallow's flight and independence are the ardent expectations of the old swallow, and it is also the beginning of leaving the family and becoming independent. In this way, swallows inherit and reproduce from generation to generation between love and hate, gathering and separation, life and death.

Swallows are the most considerate and caring people. They never cause trouble to the farmers and even take the garbage from their nests into the wild little by little. When the master is at home, he hides in the bird's nest and whispers, gentle and elegant. It's going to rain, and the swallows are always chirping and flying low in front of you repeatedly to give you weather forecasts. Even if your feathers get wet when it rains, you always flutter your wings before entering the house. Between autumn rain and cold, the swallows must fly south reluctantly before the frost.

They don't want to alarm their neighbors, nor do they want their neighbors to be sad because of their departure. They always migrate in the dead of night with the bright moon in the sky, leaving no sound or a word, not even a soft feather. Leave...leave only an expectation and a beautiful memory.

"The flowers fall helplessly, and the familiar swallows return." People of a certain age always look forward to their children becoming like little swallows, growing strong wings and flying into the blue sky early, and then looking forward to their children becoming like flying birds. The children often return to their mother's nest for reunions, and every word you say to me expresses bitterness and happiness. People who have been away from home for a long time will naturally feel homesick when they see the returning swallows, and their longing will be like the swallows that fly away and come back year after year. When a leaf falls, it must return to its old nest in the south or north. Winter has passed, spring is warm and flowers are blooming. We should be like the beautiful, brave, grateful and affectionate swallows, flying back to our hometown without hesitation...

Chapter 3: Spring

Author: Zhu Ziqing

Looking forward, looking forward, the east wind is coming, and spring is approaching.

Everything looked like he had just woken up, and he opened his eyes happily. The mountains are moist, the water is rising, and the sun is blushing.

The grass secretly emerged from the soil, tender and green. In the garden and in the fields, you can see that there are large areas full of them. Sit down, lie down, roll a few times, kick a few balls, race a few times, play hide-and-seek a few times. The wind is gentle and the grass is soft.

Peach trees, apricot trees, and pear trees, if you don’t let me, I won’t let you, they are all full of flowers. The red ones are like fire, the pink ones are like clouds, and the white ones are like snow. There is a sweetness in the flowers. If you close your eyes, the trees seem to be full of peaches, apricots and pears. Thousands of bees were buzzing under the flowers, and butterflies of all sizes were flying around. Wild flowers are everywhere: various kinds, with names and without names, scattered among the flowers, like eyes, like stars, and they are blinking.

"The willow wind does not blow cold on your face", not bad, like a mother's hand caressing you. The wind brought the smell of newly turned soil, mixed with the smell of green grass, and the fragrance of various flowers, all brewing in the slightly moist air. The birds settled their nests among the flowers and leaves, became happy, and showed off their clear throats to their friends, singing melodious tunes that matched the gentle breeze and flowing water. The piccolo played by the shepherd boy on the cow's back was also ringing loudly all day long.

Rain is the most common, lasting for three or two days at a time. Don't be upset. Look, it looks like cow hair, like flower needles, like fine threads, densely woven diagonally, and there is a thin layer of smoke covering the roof of the house. The leaves are so green that it shines brightly, and the grass is so green that it irritates your eyes. In the evening, the lights were turned on, and a little yellow light highlighted the quiet and peaceful night. In the countryside, on small roads and beside stone bridges, there are people holding umbrellas and walking slowly; there are also farmers working in the fields, wearing raincaps and hats. Their thatched houses were sparse and silent in the rain.

There are gradually more kites in the sky and more children on the ground. In the city and countryside, every household, old and young, came out one by one, as if they were rushing to go. Rejuvenate your muscles and bones, rouse yourself, and each do his or her own thing. "The plan for a year lies in spring." At the beginning, there was plenty of time and plenty of hope.

Spring is like a baby that just landed, it is new from head to toe and it is growing.

Spring is like a little girl, full of flowers, smiling and walking.

Spring is like a strong young man, with iron-like arms, waist and feet. He leads us forward.