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The best time of spring in a year is not when the flowers bloom, but when the little flowers and bones are just in bud, the delicate fragrance, delicate posture and charming amorous feelings. It should be said that "the benefit of spring in a year is not the fragrance, but the fragrance is the most delicate."
In the cold spring, the petals flying freely are as light as dreams at night. The gentle rain took away the wandering thoughts, and the boundless light smoke caged the distant mountains with dark blue. The spring rain is coming, who else is waiting?
Flying across the river, the beautiful figure looms in the rain and fog. From a distance, it lies leisurely and peacefully on the Bijiang River. The whole county lives by the mountain and sleeps by the water, just like Sanskrit.
When the spring breeze blows across the earth, it also magnifies this small mountain city with four distinct seasons. It's spring everywhere, and the trees are all blooming in spring.
Especially in our Shennong community, plum blossoms fade, plum blossoms are white, and magnolia flowers are full of fragrance. Rows of camphor trees are lush. The buds of Photinia rubra seem to fall into the clouds and grow wildly.
Walking in the rain, watching the rain dripping on the leaves of green plants, stopping for a while and then slipping, some of them get together, like pearls, agates and crystals, making the leaves green and transparent.
The eaves of the community, like light gray, set off against the faint rain and fog, and have a kind of tranquility and nobility beyond things. I remember someone saw my photo and said that it was very similar to the style of a European town.
No matter how elegant, I also live here. My breath permeates its breath, and my daily life melts into its spring, summer, autumn and winter. It bloomed and I smelled the fragrance; It's raining, and I'm still wearing a cold coat, listening to the sound of rain beating on the window lattice at night.
Rain, it keeps raining. Outside the window, someone walked by with an umbrella from time to time. The chilly spring air squeezed into the room through the window gap, and the light brown gauze curtain moved and stuck to the window again.
The wind occasionally brings a few drops of rain, which hits the glass and then slides down, like tears on the face, faint and cold.
I have been looking out of the window, silent.
Talk to who? Language or not. Talking to myself in rainy days. Talk about a little leisure and dye a little spring scenery; Taste a cup of green tea and sing the spring is not old.
The book at hand is open. It is the wind, not me.
Clivia on the windowsill, the orange buds are fresh and tender, just waiting for the rain to stop, just waiting for the clearing, just waiting for the warm field, it will spread a faint orchid fragrance and put the fragrant years in this season's spring flowers.
This Clivia is a gift from a friend. It was sent from Beijing last spring. A year has passed in a blink of an eye, and it has not failed to live up to this beautiful spring and passionate feelings, stunning the beautiful face of this time, and also letting all the past drifting in the years calmly condense beside the green mountains and green waters.
I always feel that the spring rain is lonely, the kind of loneliness with stories. Soft catkins floating in the rain, like messy flying flowers, brushed away a cavity of spring sorrow. A pair of light swallows skimmed the window, cut off a wisp of bright green spring smoke and flew away. The colorful camellias under the window, with green leaves lined with shy flowers, are like a young woman in embroidered clothes, getting married slowly.
The wind is light and the clouds are light, the rain is empty and the grass is everywhere. Think of the sentence "I refused to marry Feng Chun in those days, but I was wrongly blamed by the autumn wind for no reason." Spring has come, flowers are blooming, and spring has come to Qiu Lai. Life is warm and cold everywhere. Don't wait until the autumn wind comes, you will think it is too late!
It was raining one spring afternoon.
A cup of tea, a book, a piece of paper, a little mood. If spring is in your heart, what are you afraid of?
"If you want to reduce the cold of Luo Yi and don't roll the bead curtain, people will be deeply involved." I wonder how many flowers are left in the branches of red apricots in this spring rain. The bead curtain is not rolled, and the clothes are not reduced. It is a touch of leisure, and the spring is beautiful.
Will the swallow's feathers get wet? Do you remember the way back?