Suddenly, the days came to the end of the year in a hurry, so that many people understood what it means to pass the gap.
How can the life of just a few decades not make people sigh, the young man is a fleeting pulsatilla, and the time of ten thousand years is never urgent.
In the years, the days are like a circle of morning and night, whether it is spring grass or autumn leaves, they are left in the past.
The cold wind of December swept through the alleys of the town, but the cold plum on the corner of the street floated the fragrance of blooming.
Walking in the red dust, how many times have you looked at the stars at night, and you have to set off on a new journey in the morning light of dawn.
The clouds looking at the distant mountains are the scenery of my hometown, and the smile that falls in the time soothes the expectations of my heart.
Time is a pot, life is the rice in the pot, inadvertently boiled into a pot of finely chopped porridge.
The mixed taste of the five flavors is indescribable, but the vicissitudes of life are still there, and the temperature is still nostalgic.
Looking back at the distant years, it is still so brilliant and vague, just like the temperature and hope measured by the footsteps of the cold winter.
It's just that flowers bloom and fall in all seasons of life, and the so-called bitterness and joy of life will eventually become a wisp of smoke.
On the red dust, the wind will always chase the return date of the clouds, and the flowers are also looking forward to the beauty of reunion.
I keep the world blindly cooking life with fireworks and slow cooking, quietly waiting for the ice and snow to melt and usher in the beautiful ...... spring
December 20, 2023).