It is already in the beginning of March, and it is when it is "eight nine savvy" '.
Since coming out, it is separated from spring. In the past four seasons, the heat is like a summer, let me have no four seasons concept, just in your leisure, count the date, and then imagine the thrill of the hometown.
In the spring of memory, you always come so natural, you see, when you feel that the north wind is no longer spent on, walk on the quiet road of the sun, you will feel the light wind, with the salty taste of the sea It also takes the aroma of the soil, looks around, oh, dry small tree, I don't know when it is already green, black yellow soil surface doesn't know when the plush line is green. Although there are still a few piles in the distance The dirty snow that is not dissolved, but the little life has already been forced to wait ...
The flower trees in the hospital have been prepared, welcoming the spring arrival, the first is the young spring flowers, the long branches hang a countless little flower, and then the peach flower, remember to go to elementary school. Walking a station, there is a peach forest in halfway. When you go through your school, you will always play for a while. Sometimes you will fold the peach branch, inserted in a vase that is filled with water, let it be inside it I am open.
The row of drowsing willows on the side of the road, and the small branches have also taken a small bud, and then the small buds are straight, turned into a willow, and the willow leaves are pale green, talk about green, deep Green, ink green, successive,. Spring breath is getting more and more strong, when a small rain, you find that the tree is green, the grass is green, the flowers are open, the birds, the weather is warmed, clothing It's too much, the doors and windows are open, and the earth is in recovery, the morning people are more, the market is loud, and the children are really smiling and filled with the streets. Spring is really coming!
Close your eyes, feeling spring, as if you return to the middle school era, carry your bag, hurried in the floral incense, walk in the soft grass ... and return to the year of the teacher, youth teachers go to the green On the grass, the flower pool, sounded the young, our cool cheers. I don't know the so-called young people, like the spring grass like a unscrupulous, full of ourselves for their future ...
Open your eyes, floating in the spring scenery, the spring of the hometown, always hiding in my heart, but where is my own spring, where is it?
Long eager spring!
Missing spring!
