The spring rain is soft, the summer rain is rough, the autumn rain is desolate and the winter rain is cold; Due to the change of seasons, my mood is different. However, the color of rain is as beautiful as the sound of rain.
There are many excellent works describing rain in picture music and poetry. Line color and musical melody are ethereal and transparent.
The thin rain flower, like a floating fog, is white, kissing people's faces lightly and feeling itchy slightly; And gently wet the clothes. Umbrellas are like sails, floating and sinking in the rain; Also like big wings, the southeast and northwest are boundless, drifting around because of the wind.
Silent rain, silence is better than sound; Funny rain really makes people happy. You can wander outdoors without wearing a raincoat. Rain, like honey and wine, moistens your soul.
-This strange rain, this strange rain, is like a dream.
I remember the apricot blossom and spring rain in Jiangnan. Raindrops hit the awning, and there was the fragrance of pear blossoms in the rain. I remember the summer rain in the West Lake, full of vitality, and the lotus leaves all over the lake were beaten. I remember the autumn rain in Tianmu Mountain. The fog was locked and all the trees rustled. The pines and cypresses that hold up the sky are washed away by the rain, which makes them look particularly vigorous. I remember the winter rain in Fuchun River, like crying, and the smoke from huts on both sides of the river was gloomy, like a dyed pencil drawing.
It's a drizzly and breezy night, suitable for reading poetry and prose. On a stormy night, horror supernatural novels are desirable. Otherwise, it is a pleasure to invite a few confidants, make a few cups of strong tea, buy a bag of peanuts and light a candle. Wind and rain are more suitable for pregnant women, who often suffer from insomnia; A sound of wind and rain seems to leave people and whisper.
That summer, my friends and I sat in the Spring and Autumn Pavilion. At that time, the water chestnut was ripe. On Lianchi Beach, the villagers were driving boats and busy picking. The white clouds in the sky and the egrets on the water set each other off. A sudden shower, Malik Pentium; Banping Mountain suddenly disappeared, and only the dense rain hung a bead curtain on Lianchi. In the shower, the boats that collect water chestnuts are still rocking leisurely. People on the boat don't even wear hemp fiber.
There is not much rainfall in the south of Taiwan Province Province. Especially in Kaohsiung, the dust is all over the sky; The branches and leaves are covered with dust, and after a shower, it is green and brand-new. Shoushan after the rain, enchanting overlooking the silent love; Silver scale water waves are also dyed green by green hills.
On the banks of the river, on the rows of cement columns, the porcelain covers of rows of street lamps are embedded between mountains and rivers like white jade balls, which vaguely shows the scenery of the West Lake.
"The head of the Spring Rain Building is eight feet high. When will you go back to Zhejiang Chao? "
When I was a child, I lived under a tile-roofed house. Whenever it rained, I could hear the intermittent and mournful sound of rain. When I grow up, I live in a reinforced concrete forest, and I can't hear the sound of rain. It seems that life lacks a lot of aura, something that can make people feel soft and weak, and my heart is slowly desertification.
So I miss the rain in the tile house.
Rain is weak and the lightest thing in the world. It can't knock down heavy reinforced concrete buildings. And the tile house, with raindrops on it, jingled and immediately made a pleasant sound. People who live in huts are also blessed to be close to nature in the rain. When the rain is sudden, the sound is generous and violent, just like hundreds of horses singing together, Malik gallops. As the rain slows down, the sound becomes weaker and seeps into your heart gently, like the breeze in your ear in warm spring. These tiles seem to be specially laid for rain. They play dutifully, and the hearts of those who listen to the rain will overflow with endless affection.
People like to sit quietly and listen to the rain when their hearts are full of nostalgia and regret. The old people have the ambition of "lying in the middle of the night listening to the wind and rain and dreaming of the iron horse glacier"; Dying beauty has the bitterness of "raindrops brighten yellow leaves and lights illuminate my bald head"; Acacia lovers have the vision of "the phoenix tree is raining, and it will drop at dusk"; Affectionate poets have the daydream that "the small building listens to the spring rain all night, and the deep alley sells apricot flowers."
Rain has become an emissary for people to decorate their feelings and place their wishes.
In my spare time, I was lucky enough to go back to the place where I used to listen to the rain. It happened to be raining lightly that day, and I heard the familiar and unfamiliar sound of rain. In the mist, there is a strange mood in the rain, and we haven't communicated for a long time. It keeps me away and shows me that it is strange to me, but I can feel the breath of its existence from the deepest part of my consciousness. There is a sense of carefree waking from a dream and a sense of vicissitudes after confusion.
Oh, what I met in the rain was the self separated from time and space, and it was telling me everything before. I hesitated. I asked myself: Who am I? Still the old me?
There is a saying: "Young people listen to singing on the rainy floor, and the red candle is faint." In the prime of life, the boat is listening to the rain, the river is wide and the clouds are low, and the broken geese are called the west wind. "Different life situations make people feel different when listening to the rain. However, listening to the rain is all about listening to the dialogue of the soul, listening to the flow of true feelings and listening to the flow of years. In addition to the echo of the years, the sound of rain also brings regrets of the past and melancholy that I want to talk about again. It seems that only in the light rain of this tile house can the soul breathe and life continue.
The rain is still ringing, just like my real heartbeat. ...
Raindrops are connected together like a big net and hung in front of my eyes.
The breeze blew, and the rain curtain tilted, like a line running towards vegetation and walls.
When it rains, the leaves of all kinds of flowers and plants are condensed with crystal drops.
Rain falls from the sky like thousands of silver lines, and rows of drained water drops fall from the eaves like a beautiful bead curtain.
It is drizzling outside the window, and the raindrops seem to be accompanied by a small dance music. I can't help being tempted by the world outside the window.
The rain beads rolled down the grass stem, one drop fell into the soil, and the other drop fell into the grass mouth, and it could not be found.
Raindrops fell on my head and body, and I stood on my back with my eyes closed and my mouth open. Suddenly I feel as if I have grown up a lot under the drizzle.
Thunder sounded and the heavy rain kept falling like a broken bead.
It rained cats and dogs, and the rain under the eaves gathered in the street to form a stream.
The heavy rain fell from the sky, and the dark sky seemed to collapse.
Wind chases rain, rain chases wind, wind and rain unite to chase dark clouds in the sky, and the whole world is raining.
Rain, like thousands of silver wires, floated down from the sky.
The drizzle is falling quietly, like the silver thread spit out by countless silkworm mothers. Thousands of filaments, rippling in mid-air, are fascinated by long veils, covering black fields.
Dark clouds rolled in the sky and it rained cats and dogs in an instant.
Silky light rain fell from the sky, the raindrops were so small and the rain curtain was so dense that the mountains were covered with a layer of white gauze, like cicadas.
The rain is fine and cotton, like catkins floating in spring time and space.
Rain like fog, fog like rain, lingering.
In an instant, raindrops became lines, and with a bang, heavy rain fell from the sky like the sky collapsed.
There was a light rain in the morning. Although it has cleared up now, the road is still very slippery. Autumn crops in the fields on both sides were washed away by rain, pearls were crystal clear, and there was a fresh and moist fragrance in the air.
The strong wind rolled the heavy rain like countless whips, hitting the glass window hard.
I saw the North Sea roaring. Showers beat the ground, and the rain danced and splashed.
Autumn rain is like smoke and fog, floating silently in the rubble, on the litter in the open space, getting wet on the ground, the house and the trees.
Spring rain, like ox hair, like needles, like filaments, is woven obliquely.
Autumn rain shines all over the sky like a pearl, fluttering and swaying.
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Rain falls from the air to every corner, and raindrops are like crystal clear pearls, which are very beautiful. Raindrops fall from eaves, walls and leaves, just like broken beads, and finally connect to form a water column.
The wind is blowing and it is raining. A closer look reveals that there is not even a single person in the street. All the water was wasted and turned into a flowing river, and countless splashes rushed to open. From a distance, buildings and trees are blurred.
The wind with rain stars, like looking for something on the ground, bumped into the east and west. No sooner had the pedestrians on the road found shelter than it began to rain. It's raining harder and harder, and soon it's like a downpour. Look at the rain in the sky, it's really like a waterfall! A gust of wind blew, and the waterfall-like rain was blown like smoke, fog and dust.
Beans-sized raindrops fell to the ground, splashing like a small fountain. When the splash falls on the ground, it becomes a small bubble, which looks like a transparent hat. It's really interesting to watch the raindrops turn into little hats!
It is raining harder. On the roofs and streets, a layer of misty rain and fog is splashed, just like a layer of misty white gauze. At this time, a gust of wind blew fiercely, the white gauze curled away, and the rain fell obliquely on the accumulated water in the street, splashing a lot.
Suddenly a north wind blew, and a dark cloud rose from the northern horizon, mixed with lightning and thunder. In a flash, the wind blew hard and dark clouds filled the sky. Then rain drops as big as peas fell from the sky and slammed on the window. Another thunderbolt was deafening. In an instant, the raindrops were connected in a line, and with a bang, heavy rain fell from the sky like the sky fell.
Late one night, the sky was overcast, thunder followed by thunder, and lightning and thunder flashed in the sky. The wind, blowing hard, the branches creaked by the wind, and suddenly, it rained cats and dogs.
On Sunday afternoon, I sat at the window and did my homework. This room looks particularly stuffy. Suddenly. It was getting dark and there was a strong wind. It will rain. I quickly closed the window.
After a while, the dense raindrops fell and slammed on the glass window. It is raining harder and harder. I looked out through the glass window, and there was a huge bead curtain hanging between heaven and earth. Rain fell on the tiles on the opposite roof, splashing on the roof like a thin layer of smoke. The rain ran down the eaves and began to form a line like a broken bead. There is more and more water on the ground, which flows into streams.