White Birch
In front of my window, there is a white birch tree.
It's winter, it's snowing, and the white birches seem to be coated with silver frost and covered with snowflakes. The snow-fallen branches, the fluffy branches, and the snow-embroidered lace are so beautiful. Strings of flower spikes bloom together, and the white tassels are like a painting.
It is dawn, and in the hazy silence, my white birch tree stands tall and graceful, shining with bright snowflakes. The white birch sighs at the beautiful snow scene. It is like a curious girl, lingering and wandering with bright eyes; the belated morning glow, in the brilliant golden light, the white birch tree wipes its snow-capped branches again. A layer of silvery brilliance.
My white birch is as graceful as a girl, leaving a beautiful shadow in front of my window with all kinds of charm.