? The wind is light, the grass is green, the swallows are flying back, and spring is coming!
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? The colors of spring are colorful, the sun is red, the sky is blue, the treetops are light green, and the winter jasmine is delicate yellow ... No wonder poets love to sing praises to spring, and painters love to describe it, because spring is the fusion of all the beautiful things in the world and the meeting of all colors. I wonder why these colorful colors choose spring to come to the earth. ? The spring rain is continuous and gentle. It moistens the earth, caresses it and whispers to it. When people are unconscious, they quietly merge into a river and accumulate into a deep pool. Ah, it is the spring rain that brings green life to the pool. ? Wind and rain always come together. In early spring, the cold wind awakened everything. The treetops are green, the earth is green, and even the platforms of towering buildings are green. Wang Anshi of the Song Dynasty wrote a poem: "Spring breeze is green in Jiang Nanan." How well you speak! But is it more than "green"? Under the blowing of the wind, the wild flowers all over the mountains opened their eyes, one, two, one cluster, two clusters ... even joined together and merged into the sea. People face this ocean of blue, red and yellow ... gorgeous colors, and their troubles are gone, and their listlessness is gone. Thank the color of spring for giving us upward strength and confidence. Look at the sky in spring. Why is the sky colorful and dazzling? Ah, that's a kite flown by children. Under the blue sky and white clouds, kites of various shapes fly freely and soar freely. What a refreshing sight! Spring belongs to children, and the sky belongs to children, but aren't they also trying to dress up spring and add the color of spring? However, if you lean down and look closely, you will find that there are scattered yellow in the pleasing colors, which is the trace left by last winter. You may sigh: "A fly in the ointment!" Yes, who will be in a good mood when looking at those few broken limbs and flagging grasses? However, you might as well cut off the yellow winter clothes, and you will find something more novel. It's green inside! It turns out that yellow grass is also gestating, gestating a better spring. I finally understand why the colors in spring are so rich: it is the colored pens in the hands of Miss Chun who are waving diligently; It is naive children who dress naive; It is a grass that is silently bred and ignored by people. People who enjoy the color of spring, what have you contributed to the color of spring?
The beautiful sunset, the earth bathed in the afterglow of rosy clouds, people strolled in the streets in twos and threes, and the evening breeze slowly brought waves of fragrance mixed with flowers and trees, which made people relaxed and happy, and made people see the sun and shine. A crimson sunset glow shone on the western hills, and large white clouds floated in the blue sky. They are flaming purples in the sunset. If you look carefully, you will see clouds flying in the air, just like in a veiled dream, which will keep you away from troubles. The fish in the pond return to the deep, and the smoke from the kitchen calls for the children to go hand in hand. The light sound of the sunset kissing the earth separates the day from the night. In this way, the tired birds thrown into the forest, like the poet's burning poems, came back with the warm blood of the sunset ... A refreshing night wind came to my face, as if all the troubles and fatigue were ignored, and every nervous nerve in my body was gradually relieved; On the river wrinkled by the wind, there are layers of ripples, reflecting the deep red light, like a river of red agate, shining brightly; The small bamboo forest in the distance glows with green light, the bamboo leaves are gently shaken in the breeze, and the wind blows the rustling sound of leaves, like singing a beautiful song; The wind in the sky is chasing, teasing and tearing at the clouds. Looking down, a small river-Xiaobeijiang, the hue of bamboo and the glow of sunset glow add a quiet atmosphere to Xiaobeijiang, and the graceful image of bamboo and the magnificent glow of sunset glow make Xiaobeijiang more cordial in people's hearts; Several small fishing boats came home and drew sparkling water lines on the river. Sometimes birds fly in mid-air, and sometimes I can hear the crisp and melodious chirping of magpies. At this time, I just woke up from the dusk dream. The sun went down and the burning sunset gradually dimmed. In a blink of an eye, the last sunset in the western world has melted into the twilight, and the sky is gradually getting dark. The surrounding mountains show an indigo outline, the twilight is getting thicker and the earth is in chaos. This is like the ending of a symphony, which is beautiful, but gradually turns into silence, causing endless feelings in people's hearts, paving a layer of touching poetry for the evening on campus: "Lonely smoke in the desert, the long river sets the yen" is its unparalleled majestic momentum; "A setting sun is spreading in the water, and half the river is rustling and half the river is red" is its mature charm; "The belated world is important" highlights its tranquility ... gradually, gradually, as night falls, the intoxicating dusk still appears in my mind. The beautiful and charming scene deeply attracted me: my sight, my spirit, my thoughts … were immersed in this indescribable "twilight map", and I also fell into this inexplicable feeling. I am reluctant to go, with heavy steps, and quietly left the boundary of this dusk ... Writing composition: Autumn wind blows into the campus, and the distant camphor trees are swaying by the autumn wind. Slightly yellow leaves were put to death, struggling in the autumn wind ... and they gave a final roar, but their inevitable tragic fate was finally blown down by the ruthless autumn wind ... Maybe the leaves are like a sad poem, but isn't this a kind of beauty? Shelley said, "If winter comes, can spring be far behind?" I said, "When the yellow leaves fall, the green leaves wake up!" " "Its death gave birth to the bud of life. This is not death, this is selfless dedication. Look, some roses stand proudly in the flower bed, and some are red. Pink, very bright. In the autumn wind, it can't help but shrink back, but it is fighting against the bleak autumn wind with its own body. A gust of autumn wind blew, which looked a little shaky, but it persisted, it won, it overcame the cold autumn, and it was blooming brilliantly. The late autumn wind planted bleak and desolate seeds in people's hearts. I don't know when it started, but the usually leafy tree in the back garden failed to escape the autumn wind, and the red leaves were blown away by the strong wind. The faint moonlight struggled in the wind through the broken pieces of red leaves, snuggling together, leaving a little trace of mottling and moonlight kissing ... I'll give you a few more articles, vote for me. The soul of snow shines brightly, echoing the unique tranquility of the plateau in the early days of heavy snow in Yuan Ye. The purity of the blue sky extends a mysterious smile and vastness. No ups and downs of confrontation, no nostalgia for the green in life. Guangyuan after the snow is comfortably rolling up the magnificent melody of the Yellow River. Snow is a higher level of pure original appearance after the free change of thousands of colors in nature. The scene of snow always shows us an endless look back. When the green Yuan Ye presents endless competition and removes all the impetuosity and noise in winter, it will open this infinite curtain in due course, and the returning nature will sing a lullaby in gentle flight. I think that the earth covered by clouds is covered with boundless snow, and thousands of lives have lost their activities, their self-expansion and their arrogance. When the white theme of the universe is mentioned, the world of ice and snow echoing between heaven and earth shows its vastness to the fullest. In this selfless and helpless world, people can only feel the unique favor given by God in the air that flies respectfully. In the vast universe, all the mountains disappeared in the snow and fog. I can only hear the sound of goose feather-like snowflakes colliding with each other and scrambling to cover the earth. Only vilen, which has been silent for too long, echoes the vast and tragic spirit in the falling snow sky. However, in a vast expanse of white land in the west, a huge silvery belt winds through the vast expanse of white land. The desolate and cold land in the west is vigorously stretched. This is the mother river of our Chinese nation-the Yellow River. Looking at the Yellow River in other seasons, there is only the vicissitudes of yellow land, and the eternal footsteps of the Yellow River are moving towards the East with a heavy burden. After the flood, the barren land of disappointment will have infinite vitality and hope. Especially when a person walks in a deserted wilderness, the nearby paradise is always telling you the tragic and sighing of history. Now, in the vast land of heavy snow, when the great white covers all disputes and confrontations, in the great loneliness of heaven and earth, a feeling of helplessness and fear after receiving severe warnings from God is slowly covering the whole body. However, the Yellow River boldly drew a beautiful and vivid curve on clean land. -The Yellow River in the snow wrote a generous song for us. Without the Yellow River flowing in Yuan Ye in the snow, loneliness will make us lack strong confidence in the cold. Such a long winter will dry up the yellow land forever. If the snow field is pale, the eyes of hope will have nowhere to stay. The snowy winter has left too many whispers to the Yellow River, which is just wrapped in silver and waiting for the rich fruits of the Ming Dynasty. The grandeur of the Yellow River can only be seen in winter after the west is strong. It is the shining and pioneering spirit of the Yellow River and the beautiful and calm face on the other side of the island in the long winter. The heavy snow in the west is too desolate in the fierceness, and only the flow of the Yellow River adds endless elements of struggle to this disappointed and indignant landscape. The Yellow River is the mother of the west, but in the snow, in the lonely and helpless struggle, the Yellow River has become the real soul of the snowy plain in the vast snowfield. Without snow, we can fight the Yellow River and feel the magnificence of Chinese civilization for thousands of years. When there is snow, we write a hymn for the soul of ice and snow-the Yellow River. When the white earth after snow shows too much loneliness, the Yellow River will lengthen the main theme of life. It will melt the historical customs of the western regions into surging yellow water, turn it into the historical motive force after flowing eastward, inject the blood of Chinese sons and daughters, let the Chinese nation rise again tomorrow, and glow with infinite imagination of snow. Siberian winds bring light rain and flowering season. In this northern winter, I wander alone in the snow, through the sad space, towards the final cycle of the season. Today, the town finally waited for prayer. Butterfly-like snowflakes dance gently, bringing the unique scenery of this season. She came lightly, she came slowly, and she came without makeup and gauze. This winter's elves have come to dress up our world. Can winter be called winter without snow? Wherever her skirt goes, the snowy plain is as quiet as a virgin, the snowy peaks are cold, the Yushu Qionghua is in full bloom, and the air is particularly gentle. Under her gentle comfort, all the restlessness began to subside, and the earth was quiet and peaceful, just like a baby sleeping in its mother's arms. In this world of silver makeup, this dazzling whiteness eclipses the sky. In this quiet white, what impetuous worries are we unable to let go? When our restless hearts calm down, we can feel how colorful the falling snowflakes are. What kind of flowers in the world can be as atmospheric as snowflakes? What kind of flowers can be as chic as snowflakes? " Just like the strong wind in spring, it blows at night and blows open the petals of ten thousand pear trees "-this is the brilliance of snow;" Northland scenery, thousands of miles of ice, Wan Li snow, looking at the inside and outside of the Great Wall, and I am vast, the river is up and down, I lost the surging "-this is spectacular snow; The window contains the autumn snow in Xiling, and the boating gate in Wan Li, Wu Dong "-this is the beautiful wind and rain of snow to send the spring home, and flying snow to welcome the spring. It is already a cliff full of ice, and there are beautiful flowers "-this is the romance of snow; There are no birds in hundreds of mountains, and there are no footprints in thousands of paths "-this is the loneliness and seclusion of snow. In fact, what I like best is "there is a ray of green in the old bottle and a trace of red in the quiet stove;" It feels like snow outside at dusk. How about a glass of wine inside? "This artistic conception. Two old friends, sitting around a small red stove in a thatched cottage with low clouds at dusk, asked questions in a warm and concerned voice. It's just that in today's society, although there are many wines, there are few stoves and bosom friends are hard to find. This artistic conception is even more difficult to appreciate. I came to the suburbs alone, and in the vast snowfield, I reduced myself to a small black spot between the boundless world and stopped quietly here. If we regard this snowfield as a world, then we are countless snowflakes scattered by God. Like falling snowflakes, we are sent to this world by the wind of fate. Looking back, there was no trace of patrol. We lie down where we fell, waiting for the wind of fate to send us to another place again, or waiting for another snowflake to fly, and then quietly melt into invisibility. Just as there are no two identical snowflakes, there are no two identical people in the world. So, where is the other snowflake that we know and have a heart? Looking around blankly, what is colder than the weather in early winter is loneliness, which comes from all directions and penetrates my heart. In this cold silence, a warm voice gradually rises from the bottom of my heart: are you afraid of it snowing in the face of the cold? Are you afraid of fire to warm your hands? Can you have a smile that fills your home? Are you afraid of loneliness? Do you want to hear me say something sweet? Do you want me to leave you a snowflake? Xun Mei became a fairy tale in my dream. Petals are flying around my long hair. Pick one that I can always care about and accompany me to the world in the coldest day. I think this is the best song in the world. How many strong feelings it contains, and how much I miss my lover. Accompanied by singing, there is also a feeling of giving up. In this life, can I find my other snowflake? Can I still hold hands and sing this song to her? Who can accompany me to travel around the world on the coldest day? Seeing snowflakes flying like butterflies, I suddenly felt infinite sadness in my heart. Just like a broken cocoon butterfly, how painful is it for a drop of water to condense and crack into a beautiful snowflake? How many hardships does life have to go through to be more sophisticated and brilliant? Looking forward to a snow I don't like winter, because I hate the cold and heavy winter; I don't like winter, because I hate the gray sky and the sleeping earth; I don't like winter, because I hate closed doors and windows and heavy clothes; But one thing, I must admit, I like snow. Some people say that snow is the purest in the world because it is so white and flawless; Some people say that snow is the dirtiest in the world because it is full of impurities. I don't want to analyze who is right or wrong, because I like snow, whether it is pure or dirty. I often wonder what kind of creator created such beautiful and lovely snowflakes. I think he must be a naughty angel, or she is a beautiful fairy. I often guess that whenever someone makes a wish, God will make a snowflake. When people's wishes come true, God will release these snowflakes. Therefore, snowflakes will always fly, from the sky to the ground. It flies because it is the bearer of wishes; It can fly, because it's a wish come true. Standing at the window, I made a wish. Then, I will always wait quietly and look forward to the snow that belongs to me. I am looking forward to a snow, and I think that before long, God will definitely give me the biggest and most beautiful snow. Looking forward to a snow, I hope, I wait. Rain always falls in the south of Miaolan, Hanshan Temple in Gusu, Xidi Village in Huizhou, the light and shadow of Qinhuai River, and the soft waves of Fuchun River, wetting bamboo leaves, rice leaves, lotus leaves, willow leaves, fish scales, oil-paper umbrellas, bird shelters, Qingshiqiao Bridge, Hengshan Mountain, Lushan Mountain, Emei Mountain, Yandang Mountain, Hongze Lake, Taihu Lake, etc. Cold rain at night, Wu, autumn pool rain at night-this is the rain in the south. In the drizzle of Xinghua Village in March in the south of the Yangtze River, the sweet and tactful Huangmei tune reminds people of the cooking smoke and pastoral songs in their hometown in the south, and the sweet Huangmei opera in Huang Meiyu. A night of heavy snow in Li Hanrong reappeared everything in the world. The world has become a white palace. Crow white, dog white, black coal white. The tomb has also turned white, and the raised piles no longer make people feel desolate, but look beautiful and meaningful. The quiet arc and slightly upturned posture make people feel that the land has the desire to stand up at any time. The falling and thickening snow makes it look like a bird lying on its back. It is combing and spreading its white wings, and it will fly to a mysterious direction at any time. Snow fell on the ground, on rocks, on branches, on the roof and in the expected place. Snow is taking care of the dry land and our dry life. Snow fell all over our field of vision. Finally, the snow fell on the snow, the snow was still falling, the snow was moved and intoxicated by its whiteness, the snow fell in its arms, and the snow fell asleep in its arms. Walking in the snow, we stopped talking. Snow spreads language in the sky, telling the ancient language. The snow in the sky is also the snow on the ground. There is no boundary between the sky and the ground. We are people on earth and gods in heaven. The snow in the Tang Dynasty has not melted so far and will never melt. The thickest snow is preserved in poetry. The snow that fell in my hand melted, reminding me of the love handed down from generation to generation. I really want to go to the clouds to see how this hexagonal flower is pushed away by the cold. What was her expression at the moment she spoke? Did she fall vertically or obliquely? Is she dizzy and scared when she walks down from such a steep and high sky? From water to fog, from fog to flowers, this life-and-death process, this touching miracle! The weak and great spirit came to the world of mortals after a long journey. This one and the other fell on my eyelashes, and there are many others. Were your previous lives my tears? You found my eyes and you want to give them back. You have melted into my tears, and they are still my tears. Nothing will die except birth. Jingweihai is still brewing salt for us, and the wine glass is still Li Bai's wine, Li Bai's moon. As always, the river pushes ancient stones, and we can find the same handwriting on any stone. Last year or a long time ago, I collected the well water of your figure and mine. Look up, every snow is dropping the information you gave me. The unknown snowman you created in the distant wilderness is me in the afterlife ... I dare not look at the snow. All I see are homeless and pure souls. I close my eyes, sit in the snow, listen to the snow quietly, listen to myself quietly, the snow falls around me, the snow takes me, I become snow, there is nothing but snow, the universe becomes snow ... The only day when God is not needed is the day when it snows. Heaven and earth are white churches, white worships white and white praises white. You don't need a savior, white liberates all the fallen colors. No need for an enlightener. Bai has enlightened and answered everything, and Bai's language tells the most solemn touch of the soul. There are always bright candles on the top of the highest mountain. I can vaguely see that there are higher peaks in the distance from the top of the mountain. Higher peaks are still snow, and they are still great snow peaks that we can never climb. In the days without God, I saw more signs of God. All distances seen by spiritual eyes are sacred distances, waiting for us to arrive. When we arrived, we really found ourselves, so we set off again. The only day when you don't need love is when it snows. So many white scarves float to you, you don't know which one to cherish. Such ethereal gestures, such soft words, such pure promises. I don't care about the love from heaven, and I don't care about the love from the road. This reminds me of those daughters who have been made of water through the ages, all for love, from scratch and from scratch. They came and transformed the low hut into a simple paradise. The cold wind and the swishing canyon filled with tenderness and turned into a quiet corridor. They are gone, they are running on the sea, calling our names and village names in the waves, roaming in the clouds and looking after our lives in the high sky. They are our atmosphere, rain and snow. The only time you don't need to write poetry is when it snows. There are pure poems floating in the air and scattered on the ground. The tree's pen is quietly held. It wanted to write a poem, but it was moved by it. I don't know what it was. So I stood quietly in the snow, standing in the poem, as if to say: pen is redundant, in front of the pure poem of the universe, there are no poets, only people who read poems; Those who don't read poetry, only poetry; In fact, there is no poetry, only snow, only endless tranquility and endless innocence. ...........