On a bright spring day, I believe Malay arrived at Qiantang Lake, from Gushan Temple to Jiagongting West. A spring rain has just passed. Clouds and gases are connected with microwaves on the lake surface, as if attached to the water surface. The lake is full, almost flush with the shore. There are euphemistic cries of orioles in the distance and near. These messengers of spring are playing and chasing, scrambling to fly to the sunny branches. Swallows who just came back are flying around the lake, busy building nests with mud. Along the way, a cluster in the east and a cluster in the west are almost dazzling. Spring grass on the road just emerged from the soil, just enough to cover the horseshoe. Spring God hangs flowers on trees and spreads grass on the ground for people to enjoy, but I am most fascinated by the area around Hudong, where trees are shaded and Bai Causeway lies quietly by the lake, which really makes people linger.
From the north of Gushan Temple to Jiating West, the spring water on the lake just overlaps with the dike and white clouds and is connected with the waves on the lake.
Several early orioles scrambled to fly to the sunny tree, and the new swallows were nesting with spring mud in their mouths.
Countless colorful spring flowers gradually fascinated people's eyes, and the shallow spring grass just covered the horseshoe.
I like the beautiful scenery in the east of the West Lake best. I haven't visited it enough, especially the white sand embankment under the green shade.
The early warbler and the new swallow compete for flying, and the flowers and plants are beautiful and full of vitality. The poet set foot on the Qiantang River embankment and enjoyed a spring outing. Faced with such a beautiful spring scene, he lingered and refused to leave.