Never miss the gust of wind
The whisper of the wind is always unknown and heavy. After a moment of indifference, the sight of life passed by, flying in the blue sky, disappearing into the world that could not be seen from a bird's eye view. Life history is the scenery inscribed in the landscape, misty and dim, visible in brightness and dimness. The things and feelings I experience are like the wind, which then floats, blows and overlaps with other scenery, intersecting in life, in a trance...
The bright sunshine drips in the field of the soul Above, a lofty one. I am the child sitting quietly on the field ridge waiting for the wind to blow. The faint fragrance floats in my hands from the wind, feeling unable to grasp it, and then flies away. I can only look into the distance alone, whisper slowly, sigh something, and want to write down a little bit of my nostalgia in the mottled time.
The traces of life will inevitably be run over by the wheels of history, so my life will inevitably pass by. The moment the wind of life blows towards me, it feels far away. As I grew up, I learned to face the blowing wind head-on. The flickering lights and shadows will be mixed in my sight, but when I slowly squint my eyes, I can feel and see clearly the surrounding scenery and the cry of my heart when the wind blows. Whether it's a strong wind or a gentle breeze, it's just a unique scenery, a state that only those who have experienced it can understand. When I learned to feel the wind of life, I understood that when I mature, I can see that the scenery of life is so grand and vigorous. Faintly following the sound of the wind blowing, I felt the whisper that just brushed my cheek. The experience of life made my mind mature and become indifferent.
But I found that I would miss it. When the gust of wind blows towards me, sometimes I look sideways, but I no longer feel the gust of wind. Maybe it's a warm feeling, or a faint fragrance, or a frantic roar. And when I hurriedly turned around to look for it, time was wrong and did not change. My gust of wind had already blown to others and could not be touched. I have this uncomfortable feeling of loss all the time. The gust of wind from my childhood was lost on the field ridge that I walked through, and flew to the proud blue sky, bidding farewell to an era that belonged to me. However, before I could think about it or learn to feel it, it had already flown away. The gust of wind that I once missed has become an aria in life, becoming missing, but because of the missing, it has become beautiful. When I didn’t know what to say, I finally understood the meaning of life. This is wind in a broad sense, but it is a kind of luck in life.
"Wow - wow -" I stood in the tunnel of time, recalling the wind I had missed, the wind of life. I have seen traces of that wind in everyone's thoughts and literature, traces of the wind of childhood. Ming Ming Ming Ming Ming, the mountain is majestic and quiet, as if it is so quiet that you can pinch out water. I looked at the traces of the wind that I had missed, and stared in a daze. The faint traces of landscape are just other people's feelings. My childhood was spent in a trance, was it a kind of sadness or luck.
Suddenly, I looked back. That wind of life is even further away from me, but I can't. After all, holding on to memories is not the meaning of life. I turned my head and looked at the mountains and rivers in the distance, and I was ready to welcome the new gust of wind.