That night, the lingering rain quietly fell from the sky, wetting the deep dreams of the sleeping people. Until today, the lingering rain has evolved into typhoon rain, and the rain is "held hostage" by the wind. Down, down diagonally, no longer dancing softly. There is white moisture on the glass doors and windows, and you can write or draw on the glass. The streets are covered with leaves blown by the wind, making the wet streets look a bit messy.
When I walked into the unit compound, I saw the fallen leaves all over the ground. The most distressing thing was the white magnolia tree, leaning in the wind and rain, swaying its branches. Ye Zi kept rubbing the balcony of the office building, as if asking for help in pain. The white petals were blown by the ruthless wind, watered by the rain, shivering in the wind, and lying on the water-logged ground, haggard of their former glory.
A few days ago, the tree was full of white magnolias, lingering and lingering, fluttering in the breeze, like soft silk falling all over the tree. Gently sniffing the fragrance, I am so intoxicated. The petals are so soft and gentle, bringing people endless reverie. How many days and nights have I wandered in the yard, listening to her whispering in the breeze. Seeing that delicate figure, when the fragrance touches my face, I feel drunk for a while. That is a dreamy elf, flying lightly in the caress of nature.
I remember when I was a child, my mother liked to pluck the budding magnolias, put three or two flowers on her knees, tie up her long hair, and insert the whole flower into her hair. Soon, a fragrance would spread from her hair. Overflow from hair. Whenever my mother sits leisurely on the chair with her eyes closed and meditating, I always like to stand behind her and secretly smell the fragrance of flowers in my mother's hair. At that time, when I returned to my hometown in the countryside, I went to the well with my friends to fetch water. I saw many older sisters washing clothes at the well. While they were washing their clothes, they chatted and laughed like silver bells from time to time. I vaguely smelled the fragrance of magnolia flowers. Following the smell, I saw that the elder sisters all had magnolia flowers in their hair, some had one flower, and some had two. I couldn't help but stand there, staring blankly at the little white flowers on their heads. How fragrant their hair must be! I was immersed in the fragrance of the flowers. My friends called me and I still didn't come back to my senses. At that time, my little heart was infected by this purity and fell in love with this bright white magnolia. And when I reached the age of flowers, I also wanted to put flowers in my hair like my mother. Unfortunately, because I have a boyish personality, I have never had long hair, and the fragrance of magnolia has never been on my hair. Every time I see the white magnolia tree, I think of the magnolia flowers in my mother's hair. The past is just like the fragrance of the flowers, and the days of my life like mist-like dreams.
For a long time, as a mother, I did not have the leisure and leisureliness of my mother when she was young, nor did I have the elegant long hair of my mother. I always cut my hair very short, and it’s not an ordinary short, it’s close to a crew cut, and it’s also that cool short, simple and capable. I thought there was no chance that my hair would be overflowing with white magnolia. The fragrance is gone.
Last year, I finally grew my hair long after being used to short hair, and now it is long and shawl-length. When I grew my hair long, it was rare to smell the fragrance of white magnolia. The magnolia tree in the compound was cut down before the building was renovated, and the loquat trees on the left and right in front of the compound were not spared either. After renovation, the entire compound will never look like it used to. From then on, no matter it was stormy or sunny, I could no longer see the graceful figure of the white magnolia standing upright and swaying in the wind in the yard.
I miss the magnolia tree swaying in the sea breeze in front of the old house in my hometown, and I miss the fragrance of the tree in summer. What always appears in the lens of my memory is my mother’s long hair, with a white magnolia flower stuck in her hair. And every time I return to my hometown by the sea, I can no longer see my mother with magnolia flowers in her hair. Mother, has left us and gone to heaven. I wonder if there will be the fragrance of white magnolia in heaven?
One day, when I returned to my hometown, I sat on a ferry to make the transition. There were about seven or eight girls in their twenties on the ferry, holding flower umbrellas and carrying bags. They stood gracefully on the ferry. Growing up by the sea, the sea gave them a dark and healthy complexion. The sea breeze blew over their bodies, and a burst of fragrance drifted into my nose. Looking at their flowing long hair, I knew that it was just the smell of shampoo, not the floral fragrance of magnolia. I couldn't help but feel a sense of sourness in my heart, and my wish to have a white magnolia in my hair became a distant fantasy.
Someone once said: Magnolia chooses the most glorious moment to show its most gorgeous appearance. But I feel that I have wasted away the most precious youth in my life. So there is always a hint of astringent taste, slowly coming through the dream-like season and through the water-like music.
In the next life, I will have long hair, like my mother did, with a fragrant magnolia petal inserted in my long hair.