Lyric prose by borrowing scenery
The hometown of lyric prose by borrowing scenery in winter is far away from mountains and rivers.
When I think of my village, it is as unreal as a dream. I am in a trance and can't see everything in the village clearly.
I lived in this village for twenty years, and then I went abroad. To me, the roof of this village seems to be covered with weeds. In winter, they are yellow and huddled in the wind. As if it were still on the dusty mountain opposite, occasionally a gray partridge fluttered its wings and flew over the ravine alone.
The ashes covered with too much time seem to have accidentally fallen into the dust of history, and I don't know where to brush them off or remember them.
Being away for too long is too different from my memory, too weathered, stained with the glory of the times, showing a nondescript atmosphere, and is no longer a village in my heart.
The village in memory, winter is the most beautiful scenery. After October, the land of Sanjin began to get cold. At first, it was a whistling breeze, which hung all the way to the village along the open cliff at the west entrance, carrying some straw.
The village was silent. That tall poplar tree with a cold white light on its trunk stood in the cold wind like a meticulous soldier, indifferent to the world. I was sitting at home, and the window glass was cleaned by my mother. It looked very clean.
The sunshine in winter seems particularly bright, unlike the burning in summer and the harmony in spring. It calmly radiates the light of silvery white metal, giving people a gesture that can be viewed from a distance and cannot be used for fun.
The sunshine at home shines through the window, and I suddenly feel warm. When I was seventeen or eighteen, I knew the importance of reading. During the winter vacation, you will automatically start reviewing all kinds of lessons that are not controlled by your parents.
Sit in the sun with your head down. There is no heating at home. Climb out of bed in the morning, cringe and know how to tremble. When I wash, eat and tidy up, my home is getting warmer, but there is still a cold and cheerless atmosphere.
It is getting closer and closer to noon, and I feel warm when I look down at my book, as if I were going to turn into a pool of water in the soft sunshine and then flow to an ocean full of spring flowers. Before the book review, people were sleepy and didn't last long. They fell to one side, the book covered their faces, so they quickly sank into the dream and began an absurd dream.
When I woke up in a daze, the sunshine at noon was even stronger, as if there was a fire at home. Parents are busy cooking at home, occasionally mixing a few words. My brother is staring at the TV screen, having fun from time to time, and glanced at it, as if it were some clumsy animation. And my sister is bowing her head to get dressed, looking in the mirror, and pulling her brother beside her, asking, is my sister nice? My brother's impatient reaction looks good, like a ghost. Two people laugh and play together.
After lunch, I packed my things, my parents went to rest, and my siblings were doing their favorite things. I also reviewed most of my own books, so I picked up one of Lin's Old Things in the South of the City and read it, as if my village was the south of the city described in the book.
Chapter II: Lyric Prose by Borrowing Scenery Winter: There are drizzles, the city walls are soaked and mottled, and the years beat the rocks like rain, disturbing the old dreams of silence. Walking through this old street with an umbrella, everything seems to have never changed. It's just a rain, which has added a deserted and lively street here and lost its former prosperity.
It seems like this every winter. When you are still infatuated with the warm embrace of autumn, time has dragged the whole city into a cold, gloomy and lifeless winter with a rain that lasts for several days. The sky is always gray, and countless cold raindrops keep falling, wetting the silent road, the parting port and the tenderness under the umbrella.
It rains here in winter, and the cold wind in winter is mixed with drizzle, which blows away the past.
Do you remember? The path we walked together and the small shops we visited are still there, but everything can't escape the baptism of time, which has put them in yellow clothes. They are getting older and deeper in this heavy rain. They are like elderly elders, witnessing our meeting and parting.
The coffee shop frequented at the end of the street always feels that its huge glass door is isolated from the noise of the street, and only the thick coffee smell permeates the whole coffee shop every time you push the door and push in. I still remember that you always like to sit in a seat near the door, looking at all kinds of passers-by outside the glass door and talking about their looks and clothes. And I always like to look at you in a daze. Every sunny day, the sun shines through the glass door and dyes your long hair beautiful golden yellow. Finally, the picture of memories is fixed on your beautiful side face.
The owner of the coffee shop occasionally asks me about you. I can only say that maybe I lost you in that beautiful and distant time.
The years go by at a brisk pace, but everything is easy to change. Memories have cooled down and stories are out of date, but I'm beginning to miss that distant old time, the old time with you. I remember someone saying that the more a person experiences, the easier it is to be nostalgic, perhaps because he is dissatisfied with the status quo, or because he has too many memories. It is so beautiful that people can't bear to part with it, just like an old bottle of wine. The longer it takes, the stronger the bouquet will be. I think it was the good time with you that made it so unforgettable.
On such a cold and gloomy rainy day, I always miss the warm sunshine in summer. I still remember that in the summer when I met you, the sun gently fell on your veil, but you turned around inadvertently, which was an unforgettable scenery in my barren time. If life is like the first time, maybe there will be no painful parting. I still remember the winter of that year, and now it's like raining. The silent port is even more deserted and desolate under the heavy rain. Finally, the picture of memories is the back of your departure, and slowly, like the gray lens in the movie, your back disappears at the end of the heavy rain.
Occasionally, I will walk alone in the streets of this town, looking for your trace.
Occasionally, I still wear headphones and listen to your favorite songs alone in the silent rainy night.
However, I know very well that time is like a mighty heavy rain, which mercilessly erodes everything, whether it is love or friendship, whether it is past or present, it will be swallowed up by time one day. Time is always the eternal and only ruler in this world.
The night is like ink, and everything outside the window is dyed black. The cold wind of winter night shakes the wind chimes on the windowsill and shakes the distant old days. The familiar melody in the earphone freezes all the pictures in the past. I want to write you in my memory with a piece of paper.
It's raining in winter here, and the wind is rolling the fallen leaves, which hurts the parting and cools the memories.
Chapter III: Lyric Prose by Borrowing Scenery In winter, in everyone's eyes, the expression in winter is bleak, but in my eyes, the expression in winter is full of everything, whether it is scenery or people.
You see, the grass outside the window has been covered with snow, showing a few grass tips in dribs and drabs. Before long, when the first spring rain comes and those grass roots wake up, it will become a sea of grass! At that time, wild flowers are bound to bloom in large areas here. I seem to see hundreds of bees and butterflies flying among the flowers, facing the refreshing flowers.
The tall buttonwood tree outside the window is no longer as bleak as late autumn. It is wearing a thick white cotton-padded jacket. I am convinced that in midsummer, it will shelter us from the scorching sun with its leafy body.
Vitality is not only a description of plants, but also a season of exciting blood in winter.
The colder the winter, every cell in the human body will be activated, releasing heat and vitality in this winter. Look, a group of young people are running in such a cold day. Even people who are afraid of the cold will inevitably feel a fever when they see this hard-working picture-after all, this is a fiery life dancing in winter! Sweat dripped from their cheeks, and I seemed to feel the heat they gave off, and my hands and feet moved involuntarily. Pedestrians on the road are always smiling, rubbing their hands, breathing a few mouthfuls of hot air and full of hope. Because they know that after this winter that breeds everything, it is a vibrant spring. The cold wind poured into my arms from my collar and sleeves, but in the cold of the wind, it was mixed with a little warmth.
Since winter is full of prosperity, why should we be afraid of its cold?
Rolling in the snow, throwing snowballs, making a snowman … When you are immersed in the winter melody, you will be full of energy and forget the cold.
The performance of winter is thriving, symbolizing a beautiful coming year and people's vitality and hope.
In winter, the leaves in Yuan Ye are falling, and the flowers in the jungle are falling, but the trees in the city are still lush. The green grass on both sides of the road is dotted with clusters of Chinese rose flowers swaying in the cold wind and blooming resolutely. They are red, yellow, pink, pure white, colorful and dazzling, giving people a warm feeling.
Poplars are tall and straight, and yellow leaves are dotted among the green leaves, which seems to be just the feeling of early autumn. The yellow leaves of the French phoenix tree on the roadside have increased, and a few pieces have been blown off by the wind, which just means that the autumn wind sweeps away the leaves. The locust tree in the street park, wearing that strange green hat on its head, still looks so full of vitality; Pomegranate trees are full of golden eyes, and the sparse leaves are dotted with a few pomegranate with red faces and smiling faces, which seems to be happy for the improvement of people's ideological realm.
The leaves of Sophora japonica on the right side of the road have fallen, and the withered branches look desolate, while the Sophora japonica on the left side is as lush and full of vitality as ever, which seems to show the spirit of China people and the sustained and rapid economic development of China.
In front of a large supermarket, some retired people lined up early in the morning, waiting to buy cabbage and green onions. Although China's material life is getting richer and richer, fresh vegetables can be bought all year round, but the old people who have experienced hard years still maintain those long-standing traditional habits and live a simple life. They took pains, braved the cold wind in the morning, lined up and waited for the long winter to store cabbage and green onions.
Riding on the road, fashionable girls dressed in avant-garde pass by from time to time, attracting the attention of pedestrians. Most of them wear long skirts, boots and free and easy trench coats, which highlight their graceful posture and beautiful legs and bring a beautiful scenery to the city streets in early winter.
An old lady hobbled along on a tricycle, and her wife, whose legs and feet were even more inconvenient, talked while walking, laughing without answering, and had no sadness about life. This is the real picture of "holding your hand and growing old with your son". I think this may be the happiness we young people want to pursue.
Feel the beauty of nature and society with a normal heart and a grateful heart. There was no cold in early winter this year, but my heart was soft and warm.
Chapter five: Lyric Prose by borrowing scenery in winter For a person who is used to living in Beiping, such as me, it is a miracle that it doesn't blow in winter; There is no wind in winter in Jinan. For a person who has just returned from London, it is strange that I can't see the sun in winter; Jinan is sunny in winter. Naturally, in tropical places, the sun is always so poisonous, so loud and a little scary. However, in winter in the north of China, Jinan is really a treasure house with warm and sunny weather.
If there is only sunshine, it is not surprising. Please close your eyes and think about it: an ancient city with mountains and water is basking in the sun, sleeping warmly and comfortably, just waiting for the spring breeze to wake them up. Is this an ideal realm? The mountain completely surrounds Jinan, except for the lack of some food in the north. This circle of hills is particularly lovely in winter, as if Jinan were put in a small cradle. They whispered, "Don't worry, it will be warm here." Really, people in Jinan laugh in winter. As soon as they saw those hills, they felt that they had landed and leaned over. When they saw the mountains from the sky, they unconsciously thought, "Tomorrow may be spring, right? With such warmth, the grass may turn green tonight? " Even this fantasy can't be realized for a while, and they don't worry, because there is such a charity winter, what else do they want!
Best of all, it snowed a little. You see, the dwarf pine on the mountain is getting darker and darker, and there is a bun of white flowers on the top of the tree, like a Japanese wet nurse. The top of the mountain is all white, and there is a silver edge on the blue sky. On the hillside, there is thick snow in some places, and grass color is still exposed in some places; In this way, one is white, the other is dark yellow, and the mountain is covered with a floral dress with water patterns; Looking at it, this floral dress seems to be blown by the wind, which makes you want to see more beautiful goatskin. When the sun goes down, the yellowish sunshine is obliquely sprinkled on the hillside, and the Bo Xue seems to suddenly blush with shame, showing a little pink. It's just a light snow. Jinan can't stand heavy snow. Those hills are so fragile!
Ancient Jinan, the city is so narrow and spacious. There are some small villages lying on the hillside, and there is some snow on the roofs of the small villages. Yes, this is a small ink painting, probably painted by a famous painter in the Tang Dynasty.
What about water? It did not freeze, but steamed on the green duckweed. Seaweed is really green, and all the green stored all the year round is taken out. The clearer the sky, the greener the algae. With these green spirits, the water can't bear to freeze, and those weeping willows with long branches will take a picture in the water! Look, slowly rising from the clear river, the sky, mid-air and sky are so clear and blue from top to bottom, and the whole is an ethereal blue crystal. In this crystal, there are red roofs and yellow grass hills, like small gray shadows of flowers on the carpet; This is Jinan in winter.
This is the case when I borrow scenery to express my feelings in winter. Whether you like it or not, it is still moving slowly. Watching the hands turn round and round, all we can do is tear up the calendars on the wall one by one and throw them where they belong. Of course, we can still clearly perceive the change of time.
Look, the yellowing leaves have been falling. How many people have lamented that "this is the pursuit of the wind, or the tree doesn't cherish it", but in my opinion, it is the affectionate leaves that stubbornly protect the roots, and the leaves tightly wrap the roots, so that the bare trees can survive the cold winter and rejuvenate and breathe new green in the coming year. This is the inheritance of life. Grass is a kind of forbearance and concession. It leaves the yellow outside and gives life back to the soil. When spring blossoms, it squeezes the green of life and restores the true colors of life bit by bit. Some unknown flowers are still blooming brilliantly, as if singing an elegy for late autumn, just like fireworks that break the night and break the peace, but in my opinion, the blooming of wild flowers is far better than the setting off of fireworks. After all, in terms of time, it is not such a moment, and it is not to release one's life calmly and indifferently on the grounds of breaking the tranquility. More importantly, it gives people infinite nostalgia and imagination. I think so, at least for me. I always prefer spring and autumn, perhaps because I am in a "stove". I always feel that spring and autumn are so unbearable to glance at, leaving only regret and nostalgia.
Of course, I think the most beautiful time is winter, because it is an artist, which gives people endless reverie except cold and messy. When the morning sun is still struggling on the distant mountains, the fog will cover the whole sky, the earth and trees, and we can breathe freely and feel fresh easily. Look at the beautiful women on the ground, on the grass, and on the branches. They seem to be wrapped in silver and completely think that they are as cold as ice. Walking in such a situation is not just an audio-visual feast. When Chaoyang got rid of the heavy burden and leaned out his round head, everything became lovely from Leng Yan. The crystal dew everywhere seems to be a drop of tears, slowly gathering at the end of the branches and leaves, and can no longer bear the heavy love. Fortunately, you may hear the crisp and pleasant sound of "Ding Dong", and at this time, you just saw one of the countless drops, and then you saw the tiny ripples spreading in circles, which are very similar.
Bathing in the sun is very comfortable, and there is an impulse to unload the burden and truly integrate into the embrace of nature. Just as love is not contaminated with money and power, that is purity first, but reality is reality after all. We choose to compromise more to cater to secular aesthetics and rulings. When a breeze blows gently, you can enjoy the colorful beauty. You close your eyes and walk in small steps, very gently. This is the body of Mother Earth. My ears are keenly listening to the leaves stop and fall between the branches, just like the stop and go of my life. After all, I fell into that extremely gentle dream. Isn't the leaf of life returning to its source? If, at this moment, you are in the depths of a ginkgo forest, that kind of beauty is indescribable, because you can only be intoxicated, so you can't stand that pile of compliments.
Looking forward to the morning and sunset. The sunset in winter is a little colder, warmer, more affectionate and less impulsive. It can be said that "Skynet is long, sparse but not leaking", Skynet is long, sparse but not leaking. The sunset in winter is cold, just like a person dying, with some nostalgia, recalling the ups and downs of life, and then trying to look at everything that is familiar and unfamiliar after all. You can also become indifferent, feel that what you get is what you lose, and what you lose is what you get. Without the momentum of youth, you feel that everything comes from dust and will eventually be dust. Accept everything frankly. Some people say that people can only really see God when they are dead. I think so too. Everyone should be a philosopher.
Cold, with the sunset away and more intense, just like missing. When the four acts are unified, the western Western jackdaw returns home, and all the commotion is calm, we should also return to our hometown and hide under the covers.
At night, it is even darker because of the light. In the dead of night, I still dare not fall asleep, afraid that I can't find the figure of winter in my sleep, and I am afraid that I will miss my unexpected encounter with winter as soon as I dream.