Fudan Garden in winter is intertwined with tranquility and liveliness. Fallen leaves and greenery coexist, and the blue sky and buildings reflect each other. Sunlight is like silk, dappled on the walls of the ancient Xianghui Hall, dancing with the shadows of the trees.
If spring and summer are rich and colorful oil paintings, then winter is a blank sketch. Every leaf, every inch of land, is full of the purest vitality. They write poems in the cold wind, silently telling stories of resilience and hope.
Walking on the paths of the campus, there is a dark fragrance from time to time. It is a wax plum, not fighting for spring, but opening to the cold. It is not amazingly gorgeous, but with a unique posture, the horizontal and thin shadow, showing people the tenacity and unyielding of life. The unbloomed buds are dotted with stars, giving birth to the bloom of the future.
And the lofty blue sky seems to be the guardian of this land. It is so vast that it seems to be able to touch the veins of the building and feel the deep texture of history. Every building and every path carries stories and memories, and they have witnessed the dreams and struggles of countless youths.
In this winter Fudan Garden, we feel more than just cold and loneliness. It's more of a different kind of gentleness and vitality. It tells us that even in cold seasons, life can bloom in a different way.
In winter, it is a quiet friend, a ** soul. It stands there silently, telling us with its tranquility and warmth: every day is the best time, and every life has its own unique beauty.