Lagerstroemia indica in Meixian rain
This makes me particularly emotional on rainy days. I have to say that I like rainy days, especially rainy summer nights.
Embrace the rain in midsummer, live in the rain, and listen to the sound of rain knocking on the window lattice.
Heart, washed clean, unusually quiet, summer rain was danced into a poem, tinkling in the wind.
It's been raining for days, and it's dense. This is the mood of heaven, when to choose. Soak a pot of tea and listen to the rain. The purple fluffy petals of osmanthus should have been awake for a long time, shining under the street lamp in the rain, and the leaves are lush in the rain.
There are birds staying under the eaves, carefully combing their feathers, gentle and awkward. I really want to open the window and ask the bird to take shelter from the rain. Its flustered eyes stopped me, but that's all. Everything is growing in an orderly way. If it is fate, we should look at this bird in the rain, and the bird will sing back to me.
This summer, it is rainy and affectionate. Stop here, drink tea drunk, no one is drunk. I was immersed in the footprints of running water on the windowsill, and every new rain covered the footprints of the old rain, just like covering the old poems.
In the rain curtain deeper than night, I live in every drop of night rain, and the curtains of the rain man fall silently. If the summer rain is warm, birds and flowers should be warm.
The willow smoke on the shore is also warm. In a distant place, in a corner, there is a person who is also warm, hugging or accompanying this summer rain, warm and affectionate, and affectionate in this summer rain.
I live in seclusion in every drop of summer rain. Whenever the rain knocks on the window lattice, I seem to see the refraction of light. This life is warm and bright.