Talking about the mood of rainy days in early winter

It didn't rain heavily, but it hit the clean stone steps and lost a lot of music. Raindrop seems a little shy, like a bride who doesn't want to lift the veil, and like a wanderer who is about to end the world. The rain is dense, but there is no rain curtain like summer rain. The rain in winter seems a little heavy, not quite like the bright and clear style of rain. Maybe winter rain is like this. There is no need to vent. Come when you should, and leave when you should. Everything is natural and never artificial.

A winter rain came before dawn. Because I am busy, I ignore the cold today, only remember the figure of the winter rain beating against the window, only remember the helplessness of the winter rain blurring my sight, but I have no intention to feel the lightness and sway of the winter rain, and I don't care about the freshness of the winter rain wetting the air and purifying the dust.

The wind blows at night, making the leaves rustle outside the window, as if the winter rain is coming. The first footsteps told me the news. Through the curtains, I saw the lonely branches trembling. The shadow of the rain fell on my window, and I knew I would meet it in the morning.

I don't understand the feeling of winter rain, just as I don't understand my own feeling. The winter rain in the sky lingers on the window sash, ticking like crazy Sanskrit, like a smog-like myth, telling the good and bad fortune when I came, beating my helplessness when I landed. At this moment, I want to talk to Dong Yu.