Snow, drifting the next non-stop.
At four o'clock in the morning, I woke up for the nightmare. Black is full of half a room, cold. The outside is the sound of the vehicle, from far and near, there is a whistling to move to the distance. I feel that the sound of the snow is stopped, gently, slipped down, squat on the ground, and some seemingly unsatisfactory sounds.
The snow in the ground is very white, and it has been extended to the distance. It seems that my memory is unlimited, I remembered my childhood.
The childhood sky is always secret, as if you touch it, you will fall down.
The memory before the age of seven years ago, only deep alley, withered trees, aged grandfather and little play with the name.
"What is this tree? There is no leaf." I lean on a white tree outside the premises, refers to a white tree outside the wall.
"willow."
"How old is he?"
"Well ... have ... dozens, maybe it is a hundred years old."
"I want grandfather to live for so long!"
Grandpa laughed, the wrinkles on the face were more obvious, I have clearly remember that my grandfather flashed in tears.
After the winter, the happiest time.
Mixed "Spring Festival is here ..." The tender shouts, the big tree also distributed some vitality like people. And the little friends are piled up in the tree, beat the school, first know that the snow is cool, sweet, some sugar feelings.
With snowflakes, play the snow, put the snow on the water, play ice monkeys on ice, play the sledge, live simply lying on the school, I feel the fun of winter.
Winter is coming again, come again. The grandfather who still lives in the wind is still a crutches. The partners also rushed to things, only the old trees did not change, and its age is always a mystery.
Oh, my childhood.
