spring
The spring breeze brushed my face and I climbed the mountain in the spring tide. Flowers are everywhere. White pear flowers, like winter snow, like scattered clouds in the blue sky; Pink peach blossoms, like powder, float on the girl's cheeks like a faint smile. They danced in the breeze. Suddenly, I feel that every fallen flower is like a dying life, quietly passing away at the most brilliant time of life, leaving no trace. The path up the mountain is almost covered with a layer of petals, and I can't bear to step on it. They used to be such vivid lives, blooming instantly and fleeting; I don't want to bury them, just let them sleep quietly in the fragrant flowers.
Before going up the mountain, I was empty-handed; When I went down the mountain, I don't know who gave me a ray of sadness.
summer
Summer flowers are always so listless and curled up. You must be tired after the bright spring. Nothing is more pleasant than the sacred white crane.
The sky is gray and I always have the illusion of fog. The color of the dream has not faded from my mind. I have been sitting by the shallow pond, silently staring at the graceful white cranes in the pond. The lotus pond is very wide, with only a few scattered lotus flowers. There are still some buds hidden under the lotus leaf, which will bloom probably tomorrow. Look at the branches in the middle of the pond. They were so fresh two days ago. Today, it is a little shabby, with a little yellow color and slightly drooping petals. "Another life that is about to disappear."
autumn
The autumn wind messed up my hair, and the former flower garden has lost its vitality. This is a thoughtful moment. Accompanied by a small cluster of daisies, I lay on the yellowish grass slope with them. The air is filled with the smell of chrysanthemum, as if even the clouds are in the shape of chrysanthemum. In this season, I can never find a hundred flowers, but I can only see countless fruits falling on the treetops-fruits replace flowers. The owner of the orchard smiled. For him, this is a bumper harvest, this is wealth, and in my eyes, this is the continuation of the life of flowers. I put down the apple in my hand and raised a cup of chrysanthemum tea.
In fact, flowers have been paying.
winter
Although it is not easy to snow in winter in southern China, it is not easy to see flowers. In the park near my home, plum blossoms. I didn't go to see it. Everyone loves May, but I don't have that deep affection for her. She always has pride, she always stands high in setbacks, she has heroism, courage and feelings. I can't compare with her, but I don't want to be a plum either. Mei is lonely, so lonely to be alone in such a bleak season as winter. She is haggard, too. It's not that she doesn't want to fight for spring, but that she is out of her depth. In my opinion, it is not easy for a flower to survive the long winter, not to mention that she is so lonely!
Maybe I should go and see her?
If God gives me a choice, I would like to be a white flower that no one has ever known. It doesn't matter when it blooms or withers. Let me sway in the spring breeze and listen to the spring rain to nourish the earth; Singing in the summer rain, watching the rolling red sun rise and fall in the west; Fall in the eyes, let the autumn wind blow away my lingering fragrance; Rebirth in the winter snow, waiting for one day in spring ... I never want to compete for spring, and I don't want to get involved in the world. I just want to keep, keep silent. ...