Sweat soaked my cheeks, lying on the grass, enjoying the breeze. The wind blew away my sweat, listening to the cicadas and watching the young trees I planted.
I've never really felt nature before. Today, I feel that I have made a brand-new life a part of nature. He rooted in the soil, looked at me, and I looked at him.
Planting trees is a sacred project. This is the birth ceremony of life, and this is the towering tree of the future. He has the spirit of a thousand-year-old tree, and he stands upright. People who survive on summer nights are strong. I squatted on the grass and looked at the future king, both excited and disappointed. I know how difficult it is for a small tree to survive, grow and succeed in the vast nature. However, this is his only way out. That is the reality.
I planted a tree, but chose a summer night, which was the first test of his life.
I fell on the grass and closed my eyes. ...
I am like a small tree, rooted in nature. I once looked forward to my future, but when I rushed to the future, I was inevitably frustrated. I tried again and again to keep myself unaffected, but every time I increased the pressure. With the accumulation of psychological pressure, I will inevitably degenerate and even lose my desire for the future. The little tree next to me is different. I firmly believe that he will resolutely face setbacks because he lives on summer nights.
I planted this tree, and he can face difficulties bravely. Why not me? This is the tree I planted. If he can survive, why can't I?