Thoughts, in the undisturbed night, are light and quiet, just like moonlight shining on the bamboo shadow of an empty mountain.
Time. It was really fast. It seems that the girl who wore a new school uniform and looked around in the new school is now at another turning point in her life. The white clouds that once hung on the treetops are still knocked down by our youth under the basketball basket, blooming with a different appearance.
Everything seems so simple. Just like a period of time in English grammar, a whole, when the predicate verb is singular. It turns out that six years is so long.
In the season when grass grows and warblers fly, I still remember that year, we walked into the classroom in pink and green clothes, swaying, and covered the whole spring with beauty. That year, we lined up in the distant mountains near the water, leaving the bonsai in sight, which was a rare encounter. When we met that year, we laughed together, ran together for the good or bad grades, discussed the TV series we watched yesterday, mourned and rejoiced together, and spent 59 years together.
The spring of 20 1 1 finally turned into a light green, full of beautiful colors and green flowers. It also brought the coming parting.
57 days. Work hard. In the past 57 days. Reward this young time with our achievements and clear goals.
It seems that I am used to typing on keyboard or paper, and I plan to write down the people, things and things I met in a week today. I don't know, but the first sentence that flashed through my mind was about these four years, which fell in my mind like the wings of an angel. Inflow. Looking through the previous photos and looking at those warm memories, it turns out that those places that have been sprinkled by the sun are so familiar, but they have to leave.
There is a song that goes like this. You're still here. You never left.
Yes, we didn't leave, only our faint time.
Our teacher-student relationship, classmate relationship and friendship. ...
I remember who said that. The most important memory of a person's life is four years of junior high school. Ha ha. I don't know whether I should deny it or affirm it specifically, but it seems to be like this. The memory of primary school is a little thin and pure. And these four years are the most important years in our growth and transformation stage. People, things and things we meet more often. This is a unique memory in our life.
Work hard. Students and friends.
Sunlight reflected mottled shadows through the trees, leaving only 62 blue shadows in the blue sky. Those cheerful birds are flying freely among the treetops, singing crisp songs, and there are youthful memories under the tree ... so beautiful. ...