I used to think that prose was exquisite, fresh, elegant and casual. But after reading Yu's Cultural Journey, I have a different understanding of prose. From these works, which are called great prose, I read the voices of Huang Zhong and Lu Da and the trend of breaking the shore, and also read a heavy sense of history and vicissitudes.
The vast desert, the surging river, the broken sunset pedestal and the ancient westerly road have all become graceful and full of wisdom in his works. It seems to be the condensation and witness of history, and it exudes immortal penetrating power in the cycle of the century.
A magnificent work with exquisite language is like a silent tour guide. At the crossroads of history, I followed in his footsteps and pushed open the door of a sacred temple.
I read an article "Taoist Temple Tower", shouting for Dunhuang and regretting the splendid culture of China for 5,000 years, and my heart ached faintly. If you see those greedy foreign scholars carrying scriptures and plundering cultural relics from caves unscrupulously, batches of precious cultural heritage will be plundered and carved up, and even reduced to other places and lost abroad. I wanted to shout "stop", but my voice seemed so pale and weak that it finally turned into a lament. However, the tragedy of history cannot be redeemed with a sigh. The dignified tone, the sad tone and the weight of hitting the floor all come from the most sacred emotion in the author's heart.
Turning over a humiliating page, the Mogao Grottoes stand quietly, mysterious and serene. The infectious words of autumn rain make me feel as if I were there. I'm not reading, but enjoying the analysis with my heart. I was stunned by the exquisite murals on the cave walls. Colorful, carefree and soft lines bring together the disputes of the Five Dynasties, the rise and fall of the Sui and Tang Dynasties and the decline of the Song Dynasty. I have to be impressed by the exquisite skills of the ancient working people in China. As the author said, "Look at the Mogao Grottoes, not at the specimens that have been dead for a thousand years, but at the life of a thousand years."
Page by page, my vision is broadened, my thinking is smart and full of imagination. The beauty of snow in Yangguan, the quietness of Liu Hou Temple, the quietness of Bailian Cave and the grandeur of Dujiangyan, I am like an ethereal cloud, drifting across famous mountains and rivers with the footsteps of autumn rain.
Flying over the Three Gorges, where the sky is hidden and the sun is hidden, you have escaped from the corner of Dongting, where there are countless wonderful legends that seem real and private. There is no need for any trivial carving, and there is no pile of beautiful words. Pure thoughts, face to face. The mind is purified here, arousing an inner impulse and feeling to pitch the ancient and modern world.
With a turn of the pen, a canoe brought me into the beauty and profundity of Jiangnan town. The clear water is long and the smoke is curling, which makes people doubt that they have strayed into the peach blossom wonderland. The delicate outline and the generosity and heroism in front form the remolding of strength and beauty with both rigidity and softness. The magnificent handwriting and aesthetic spirituality of the great prose are vividly interpreted.
The article "Ruins" stretches the lens again, and goes deep into a height of criticism and reconstruction. The oppression and pain of history, the hesitation and fluctuation of reality, the sigh of civilization and the cherish of life converge into a cold sense of hardship. After reading it, it's like opening a window and taking a deep breath in turn. The cool air is refreshing, and I feel much more awake.
Poetry rests in the rain at night, wintersweet is fragrant, and flowers bloom several times. A picture of truth, goodness and beauty is displayed in front of my eyes, and it also adds a warm touch to this magnificent collection of essays, which makes people memorable.
Reading Yu Qiu's prose is like enjoying the flowing scenery. Wandering in the cultural landscape and the atmosphere with a long history, this kind of scene is really "silence is better than sound". Every time you read an article, you will have a new understanding. It's quiet, but it's dry inside, and it's choppy without losing its pride; It flies like a wild horse in infinite time and space, but when you look back, it shows the heaviness of life.
It is prose, but it goes beyond ordinary prose. Before such a great realm, I will always be a toddler.
References:
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Answer: Xiao Xuan Infinite Magician Level 511-210: 01.
After reading Yu's prose, "more than 30 years later than Liang Shiqiu and Qian Zhongshu, he integrated intellectuality into sensibility, lifted his weight lightly, and floated gracefully through his' cultural journey'." This is a passage from Mr. Yu Guangzhong's Intellectuality and Sensibility of Prose. Yu Guangzhong compared Yu to Liang Shiqiu and Qian Zhongshu. Indeed, for more than ten years, our prose has been widely read and received rave reviews. Some people commented that it entered the public in space and the history of prose in time, setting up a wonderful peak of prose. After reading several collections of essays, from Cultural Journey, Notes on Mountain Residence, Frosty Riverside, Fragments of Civilization and Autumn Rain Prose to the recent Millennium Sigh and Boundless Traveler, I can't help feeling deeply. I am so gentle and beautiful! Mr. Yu's prose is a typical cultural prose. After we are used to flaunting the exquisiteness and agility of prose works, it presents a bright and fresh landscape in front of us, like a strong wind. It got rid of the petty spirit of indulging in the small world of self, but showed a more generous and heroic feeling of great prose. Of course, it is not a long speech, but a heavy sense of history and vicissitudes, a noble and unpretentious demeanor and atmosphere, an internal impulse and feelings that talk about the ancient and modern world, and a wisdom and thinking that is full of passion and spirituality. Mr. Yu's prose, with rich cultural association and imagination, completes the rational interpretation of the object of expression, and combines the bold and unconstrained philosophical prose of Zhuangzi, the wanton thinking of Wang Yang and the rich and dignified rhetoric of the Han Dynasty, thus showing the poetic characteristics of infiltrating rational spirit and inherent rational interest. Putting pen to paper like running water, there is a splash of spirituality between books, which has a liberal cultural connotation. The pen is full of deep national anxiety consciousness, and the lines are full of wisdom and philosophy after thousands of years. The first time I read the rest of my prose was "Cultural Journey-Ruins". "No ruins, no yesterday, no yesterday, no today and tomorrow. Ruins are textbooks, let's read a geography as history; Ruins are a process, and life is to start from old ruins and move towards new ruins. Ruins are a long evolutionary chain. " "Grandma without wrinkles is terrible, and old people without white hair are sorry." In the collision between mind and soul, the call of "let history return to truth and life return to process" was issued. There are no details, no historical figures, no places of interest, but full of shining wisdom, deep thinking and full of feelings. In the ruins, beautiful language, unique perspective and profound thoughts attract me as strongly as magnets. Walking into the ruins, I experienced the vicissitudes of history, tasted the connotation of culture, and issued a sigh of "let history return to reality and let life return to the process"; In the face of Dunhuang, I witnessed the bleeding wound of an ancient nation, felt the strength and suffering of history, and warned: "We are descendants of climbing over the eaves". Yu Xiansheng stood at the historical height, studied the existing primitive culture in China, approached the great life of culture, and re-examined Chinese civilization with rationality, intelligence and emotional severity. As mentioned in the preface of "Cultural Journey", "I found that the places I particularly want to go are always places where ancient cultures and literati have left deep footprints, which shows that the landscape in my heart is not entirely a natural landscape, but a kind of' human landscape'. This is caused by the long-standing charm of China's history and culture and its long-term influence on me. " From the mountains and rivers with heavy history and culture, we can trace the footprints of ancient literati and explore the precipitation of ancient culture. Through this pursuit and exploration, we can not only entrust our own cultural care, but also give readers cultural enlightenment. In this way, mountains and rivers, plants, pavilions, temples and pavilions, clouds and moons are all connected with people's breath and exude cultural charm! Taoist Pagoda, Mogao Grottoes and Yangguan are entrusted with his long-distance mourning; The lonely Tianzhu Mountain and the stormy pavilion bear his deep feelings; White-haired Suzhou, a small town in the south of the Yangtze River, contains his deep thoughts. Chastity archway makes people feel deeply, and Guichi incident reminds people to reflect! In the frontier desert, he was rutted, and his gentle footprints were stained on the steps of Lushan Mountain. His sigh echoed in the alleys of Jiangnan, and his standing figure flashed in the ruins. Mr. Yu's prose traces the mystery of cultural formation, feels the rise and fall of cultural history, sincerely pays tribute to the founders of culture and deeply pays attention to the fate of cultural people. Shame on Shanxi examines the rise and fall of Shanxi merchant culture, profoundly reveals the unique customs and historical evolution of Shanxi, and the unique geographical environment promotes Shanxi merchant culture; At the same time, it also wrote the personality glory of Shanxi merchants in China's commercial civilization; Su Dongpo's Breakthrough focuses on the fate of cultural masters and describes the process of Su Dongpo's exile because of Wutai poetry case, but it has achieved a spiritual breakthrough. There is a charm here. The Back of a Dynasty, Su Dongpo's Breakthrough, Shame of Shanxi, Exile Land, Distant Voice, Where is the National Gateway and Fragile Capital are all representative works with considerable weight. "The active thoughts here sublimate the passion of poetry, the meditation of cultural history and the generalization of philosophy into a unity. The wide span of time and space, strong ideological contrast, praise, praise, nostalgia, rational generalization, emotional rendering, historical meditation, and individual experience are all ups and downs, forming a majestic atmosphere. " I can't help but sigh: great elegance, great beauty is beauty! In the new century, after inspecting Chinese civilization, Yu extended his cultural exploration and spiritual roaming to the Middle East and Europe with the Millennium tour of Hong Kong Phoenix TV and completed the in-depth exploration of Islamic civilization and Christian civilization. "A sigh in a thousand years" is just like the lyrics: "Once in a thousand years, the mountains are high, the wheels are rolling, and the dust is flying. My ancestors invited me to visit. I am the cloud of Kunlun, the wave of the Yellow River, and the phoenix reborn from nirvana. " Drinking Qu Yuan's dreams and Li Bai's songs, exploring the glory of ancient civilizations in the Middle East, soothing the pain of ancient cultures in West Asia and feeling the joys and sorrows of South Asian history. Gently stroking the dust left over by time, stroking the skin of history, carefully peeling off the tough shell wrapped in the past, telling the story of Greek mythology, Egyptian pyramids, Jerusalem conflict, the value of Hussein's mausoleum, code of hammurabi and the sacred beauty of the Taj Mahal, guiding us to step into that past time and space, enjoying and savoring happiness, while bearing the shock of the decline of these brilliant civilizations to varying degrees, and reflecting on the ups and downs of our Chinese civilization after 5,000 years. Here, the memory and tracing of history is only a vast place to convey the feelings of the soul, and the so-called cultural spirit, traditional charm and various meanings related to life, destiny and human existence are naturally reflected through such a place. Boundless Traveler: Ruins, the sea, vagrancy, where history often begins; Forests, hills and castles, where history is often hidden; Lively, exquisite and flamboyant, history often turns here; Desolate, lonely and persistent, history often freezes here. Michelangelo, Galileo, Shakespeare, Dante, Goethe, Hegel, shining masters in history, all face you here; Famous buildings such as the ancient city of Pompeii, the ruins of Rome, Notre Dame de Paris, Hilong Cathedral, etc., let you be there-the invitation of nostalgia, the sigh of rise and fall! Adhering to the style of "One Sigh for a Thousand Years", we should look at European civilization and reflect on Chinese civilization-let people get closer to nature, let individuals stretch more happily in the vast fields, let more young people explore the world before encountering the frustrations of life, let more elderly people say goodbye to the world in a way of cruising without borders, let different cultural communities blend in their footsteps and reconcile historical grievances in mutual visits. The macro-grasp of vertical and horizontal harmony and the micro-understanding of deep regret overflow the gloom and femininity of historical poetry and publicize the modern take-off. It is quiet, but it has a shriveled heart, and it is choppy but arrogant. It shuttles through infinite time and space, but when you look back, it shows the true colors of life. In the twilight, all the noise returned to calm. Nothing is better than reading in a quiet night. A solitary lamp, a cup of strong tea, taste autumn rain prose. After reading it, I covered the book, meditated and felt infinite charm. Finally, let's summarize the comments on the great prose recommended by Harvest. It strives for a new concept and aesthetic orientation, and needs to know life and be wise. "It has a taste that conforms to the history and reality of modern people-it has historical penetration, is sensitive to thinking, and is conducive to recasting the national spirit and humanistic critical spirit"-it is great and gentle, and great beauty is beautiful! I feel this, let's talk about it, just listen.
I don't know if Professor Yu has ever been to our hometown, but the emotion reflected in his words is just right. It is also the most authentic word I have ever seen, writing Xiyang and Dazhai.
Times are changing, but the lifestyle he described still exists, or only a few people are separated.
Think about it carefully, 200 Li, that is, Yuci, Taigu, Pingyao and Qixian, is 200 Li. People's ideas are worlds apart. It's amazing!
The conservative concept has continued until now, just like a flower said, I would rather stay under the eaves than go out. Not even afraid to sacrifice their marriage. My hometown is a good example. The single population in the village has increased year by year, which has prompted the village population to drop from 450 before the reform and opening up to less than 300.
There are also two bad habits, that is, not suffering from inequality, that is, not wanting others to get rich. Another bad habit is that everyone sweeps his own snow, which is probably the bad habit of most people in China!
There are many people arguing about the topic of Dazhai now. But the pioneers headed by Chen Yonggui, their original intention at that time was only to get rid of poverty, that is to say, to be poor is to think about change. Later, it collided with the special era and pushed Dazhai onto the historical stage. There were too many regrets in those years, because in the transitional period, we could not evaluate the inevitable trend of some specific conditions, or we were not qualified to evaluate them.
History is fair. For those counties 200 miles away, the most direct way to get rid of poverty is to go out and beg for food. They all belong to pioneers, entrepreneurs and defenders. Wandering inside and outside the Great Wall is not afraid of difficulties, just for a meal. Influenced by people's abilities and opportunities, some "lucky ones" made a fortune slowly. But there are also many people who are homeless and even poor.
According to the traditional practice, most people who get rich settle in other places, and some poor people who just show their face are unwilling to go back. Those who really go back are rich people like the jstars, followed by people who have neither made a fortune nor made trouble.
Then, if the culture of Shanxi merchants only stays in a few quadrangles, it won't make much sense.
On the other hand, some Shanxi businessmen are no longer businessmen, but they are a little bolder in the reform and opening up, and they have not encountered too many difficulties at all, or even commercial competition. A good example is the depression of the coking industry in the past two years. Some well-known enterprises even owe their workers wages for several months, which is disappointing! The boss of that coking enterprise is worth less than several hundred million yuan, so we can only say that they are not real businessmen.
My feeling after reading is beyond Professor Yu's original intention, but I want to see Shanxi and Xiyang more. Tomorrow will be better!
I used to think that prose was exquisite, fresh, elegant and casual. But after reading Yu's Cultural Journey, I have a different understanding of prose. From these works, which are called great prose, I read the voices of Huang Zhong and Lu Da and the trend of breaking the shore, and also read a heavy sense of history and vicissitudes.
The vast desert, the surging river, the broken sunset pedestal and the ancient westerly road have all become graceful and full of wisdom in his works. It seems to be the condensation and witness of history, and it exudes immortal penetrating power in the cycle of the century.
A magnificent work with exquisite language is like a silent tour guide. At the crossroads of history, I followed in his footsteps and pushed open the door of a sacred temple.
I read an article "Taoist Temple Tower", shouting for Dunhuang and regretting the splendid culture of China for 5,000 years, and my heart ached faintly. If you see those greedy foreign scholars carrying scriptures and plundering cultural relics from caves unscrupulously, batches of precious cultural heritage will be plundered and carved up, and even reduced to other places and lost abroad. I wanted to shout "stop", but my voice seemed so pale and weak that it finally turned into a lament. However, the tragedy of history cannot be redeemed with a sigh. The dignified tone, the sad tone and the weight of hitting the floor all come from the most sacred emotion in the author's heart.
Turning over a humiliating page, the Mogao Grottoes stand quietly, mysterious and serene. The infectious words of autumn rain make me feel as if I were there. I'm not reading, but enjoying the analysis with my heart. I was stunned by the exquisite murals on the cave walls. Colorful, carefree and soft lines bring together the disputes of the Five Dynasties, the rise and fall of the Sui and Tang Dynasties and the decline of the Song Dynasty. I have to be impressed by the exquisite skills of the ancient working people in China. As the author said, "Look at the Mogao Grottoes, not at the specimens that have been dead for a thousand years, but at the life of a thousand years."
Page by page, my vision is broadened, my thinking is smart and full of imagination. The beauty of snow in Yangguan, the quietness of Liu Hou Temple, the quietness of Bailian Cave and the grandeur of Dujiangyan, I am like an ethereal cloud, drifting across famous mountains and rivers with the footsteps of autumn rain.
Flying over the Three Gorges, where the sky is hidden and the sun is hidden, you have escaped from the corner of Dongting, where there are countless wonderful legends that seem real and private. There is no need for any trivial carving, and there is no pile of beautiful words. Pure thoughts, face to face. The mind is purified here, arousing an inner impulse and feeling to pitch the ancient and modern world.
With a turn of the pen, a canoe brought me into the beauty and profundity of Jiangnan town. The clear water is long and the smoke is curling, which makes people doubt that they have strayed into the peach blossom wonderland. The delicate outline and the generosity and heroism in front form the remolding of strength and beauty with both rigidity and softness. The magnificent handwriting and aesthetic spirituality of the great prose are vividly interpreted.
The article "Ruins" stretches the lens again, and goes deep into a height of criticism and reconstruction. The oppression and pain of history, the hesitation and fluctuation of reality, the sigh of civilization and the cherish of life converge into a cold sense of hardship. After reading it, it's like opening a window and taking a deep breath in turn. The cool air is refreshing, and I feel much more awake.
Poetry rests in the rain at night, wintersweet is fragrant, and flowers bloom several times. A picture of truth, goodness and beauty is displayed in front of my eyes, and it also adds a warm touch to this magnificent collection of essays, which makes people memorable.
Reading Yu Qiu's prose is like enjoying the flowing scenery. Wandering in the cultural landscape and the atmosphere with a long history, this kind of scene is really "silence is better than sound". Every time you read an article, you will have a new understanding. It's quiet, but it's dry inside, and it's choppy without losing its pride; It flies like a wild horse in infinite time and space, but when you look back, it shows the heaviness of life.
It is prose, but it goes beyond ordinary prose. Before such a great realm, I will always be a toddler.
Answer: A midsummer night's dream of cherry blossoms-trainee magician level 3 1 1-2 15:52.
People are really strange. When I live in a shack, my mind is full of daydreams, but when I write travel notes about famous mountains and rivers all over the country, there are often some static spots looming in front of me. Maybe it's an old man who happened to be in Lu Yu, maybe it's a bird that I can't get rid of all the time, or maybe it's a haystack that once made me sleepy. Sometimes it is not necessarily encountered on the journey, but the memory highlights that will emerge wherever you go, flashing and leaving a few stitches on the floating life line. Yes, if life is a line crossed by a stroke, then only some points can have retained value. Omitting those withered long lines and remembering only a few points is really rich enough. To this end, I will focus on writing a flower in my travel notes. It's wintersweet, not far away, in a hospital in the western suburbs of Shanghai. This is a quiet lamp, which I often ignore in my busy schedule. Secondly, people who walk on tiptoe sometimes get sick, and staying in the hospital may be the biggest psychological contrast for a performer. Want physical strength but no physical strength, want space and no space, waiting in depression and helplessness, I don't know when I can get out of the next stop of my life. It seems that God rewards and punishes diligence. Your usual footsteps are too sloppy, so you are driven to this small courtyard to stay for a while and relax. Whether you like it or not, you are used to it. At that time, the hospital where I lived used to be the private residence of a rich foreign businessman. There were many trees in the yard, but it was winter and they all withered. Accustomed to the beautiful scenery on weekdays, my eyes are full of hunger and thirst, and I look for green among trees all day. However, all I see is the interlacing of khaki colors, but clusters of ward clothes of the same style are turning around repeatedly, and the more I look at them, the more annoying I am. Patients occasionally stop to talk, but out of courtesy, they won't ask each other any more questions. Only two patients laughed whenever they got the chance. The nurse said they were terminally ill. Their cheerfulness is highly respected, but everyone knows that it is a spiritual support that makes great efforts. Few people listen to their laughter, because everyone can't have so many comforting reactions and forced smiles. Nurses often walk with them, and everyone looks at their backs from a distance. Patients like to go to bed early and get up early, and the yard is crowded before dawn. Everyone rushed there to take a deep breath and move their hands, for fear that the morning light would break through and see the bare branches and leaves and sick faces clearly. Only in this way can everything be awake, the air is cold and refreshing, the mouth is open, the nose is open, and the corner of the morning is grasped. Day after day, so it passed. Suddenly one morning, everyone felt that the air was always strange. They looked around in horror and found a group of people around the corner of the yard. Hurriedly walked over and stood on tiptoe to see that there was a Chimonanthus praecox in the middle of the crowd, and the faint morning light reflected fresh yellow petals. People who walk into the past are still chanting its name, and when they get there, they are no longer silent. An elegant and clean smell scared everyone. Deliberately take a breath to smell, but you can't smell anything. When you don't smell, it's all over your nose, and it dyes your body and mind at once. The flower is just a flower that has just bloomed, but here, it is a desert camel bell and a barren hill pavilion. After a long drought, it meets the rain and clears up after a long rain. After watching for a while, the patient slowly turned over and gave up his seat to the person behind him. They wandered around the yard twice, stopped here and waited patiently behind the crowd. Since then, walking in the hospital has become a circle centered on wintersweet.
three
Hospitalized patients are all a little neurotic. The world is small and fragile. You can't get rid of it if you want to live. It is said that many hospitalized patients will have a little emotional connection with warm-hearted and kind nurses, which can not be completely attributed to patients taking part in accidental amusement, but a natural projection of a fragile mentality. When they are discharged from the hospital and their bodies and minds return to normal, everything will become a thing of the past. Now, all the patients' emotions are projected on Chimonanthus praecox, with extraordinary obsession. Two patients in my ward woke up early in the morning and said they smelled the aroma of wintersweet. One person even said that he was just awakened by the aroma. In fact, our ward is not close to wintersweet, at least forty or fifty meters away. In my opinion, this wintersweet is really worthy of patients' obsession. All kinds of miscellaneous trees and branches made way around it, and it stood grandly in a clearing, so that people could see all its gestures. The branches are vigorous and dark, covered with wrinkles of the years. Just look at this branch, it seems that it has already died, and only a sad historical shape stretches here. It is hard to imagine that at the top of such a branch, so many fresh lives suddenly gushed out. Petals are yellow, not a trace of turbidity, light to no texture, only patches of color, delicate and transparent. There is no other color in the whole yard, as if the leaves are falling, the branches are yellow, and the winter is frozen, paving the way for this wintersweet. Plum petals tremble slightly in the cold wind, which can shake the whole sky blue. Patients no longer hate winter. In front of Chimonanthus praecox, everyone knows that the best color and fragrance in the world can only be accompanied by cold. There is only one word left in the aesthetic concept here: cold eyes. It adds several flowers every day, so counting flowers and buds has become a major event in every ward. Arguments often occur. If they don't stop, we should count the flowers carefully before. This sometimes happens at night, and patients even get up in clothes on cold nights and bury their heads in flowers in the moonlight. Chimonanthus praecox in the moonlight is exceptionally holy, surrounded by darkness, and only crystal petals are far away from the bright moon. When the fragrance is mixed with the night air, it is suffocating. One morning when I got up, it was very cold. When I opened the window, it snowed heavily and the whole yard was silvery white. Chimonanthus praecox has become more eye-catching, tall and elegant, set off by the silvery white world into a kind of sage-like style, with a graceful fate. Several young patients tried to observe in the snow, but the nurse stopped them. The nurse whispered, they are all patients. How can they stand such a cold? Come back early! The patients standing on the eaves gallery on the first floor and the balcony on the second floor looked at Chimonanthus praecox tenderly. Some people say that such a heavy snow must have knocked out many petals; Some people disagree, saying that heavy snow will only push more buds away. This argument finally touched a nurse, who volunteered to take the snow to count. The nurse is young and slim. As soon as she came out, her white clothes melted in the heavy snow. She walked lightly to the front of Chimonanthus praecox, smoothed her hair, and then bowed her head and looked up to count. She must have learned a little dance. When counting flowers, her figure is reminiscent of "scattered flowers". Finally, she finally straightened up, smiled at the building and gave a number in the heavy snow, which caused cheers from all the patients upstairs and downstairs. These figures prove that wintersweet has grown many flowers that have not withered after a night of heavy snow. At the end of this month, the hospital asked patients to select excellent nurses, and the nurse who took great risks won by unanimous vote. A few days later, it suddenly rained heavily. It usually doesn't rain so hard in winter in Shanghai, and all the patients flock to the eaves gallery and balcony at once. Everyone knows that our wintersweet is really in trouble. A few sharp-eyed people have clearly seen the petals under the flower branches. It's raining harder and harder, and some petals have rushed under the eaves. The patients looked up at the sky sadly and sighed. Just then, a clear voice sounded in my ear: "I'll get my umbrella!" " "This is another nurse's voice. The nurse braved the heavy snow didn't go to work today. Although the nurse is tall, she is still a little childish, with a red silk umbrella in her hand and her eyes rolling around. People looked at her silently like a savior and forgot to thank her. A patient suddenly stopped her and said that the red umbrella was too dazzling for wintersweet. The nurse pursed her lips and smiled, turned back to the office and took out a yellow silk umbrella. Some patients object that yellow to yellow will cover wintersweet. Fortunately, nurses use umbrellas with various colors, so it is best to choose a purple silk umbrella at last. The nurse came to the flower wearing cream rain boots and a purple umbrella, and tied the umbrella to the branch with a rope. When she was tied up, another nurse went to pick her up with an umbrella, and the two girls came back with their shoulders. April came, and Chimonanthus praecox finally withered. The patients were discharged in batches and went to wintersweet tree for some time before discharge. All kinds of trees have sprouted green shoots, the grass on the ground has begun to become active, and the patient's face and eyes have gradually become clear. Soon, there will be many flowers and bees here.
References:
/73 1000/blog/item/488 10bc 20 c 0d 2533 E4 DD 3 B2C . html
Respondent: Copy Knowledge Person-Assistant Level 2 1 1-3 2 1:26.