Before I noticed it, the rain had fallen, sometimes tight and sometimes slow, as if telling a passing past, like water tenderness, those memories about you, in the three-inch heaven, ups and downs.
Whether we can meet again, after a rain, or on a sunny day after the rain, no one can predict that the encounter in life, although it is a reunion after a long absence, but the right time can never be estimated.
The dripping rain knocked on the grass and trees, which needed such a drizzle to wake up, and then slowly raised their heads.
Spring is not far away, and those pictures of plain snow will also be lost in the spring season, and then we can only wait for the next winter to come.
The wind was blowing, the grass and trees were rustling, and in the sky, there was a cloud made of rain, and the rain that was originally dripping was infected by the sadness of the cloud, and gradually became sparse.
A few bushes of green plants, as if forgotten by the season, and green leaves, swaying in the wind, at this time, also messed up, falling leaves, always a little unwilling, and then rolled, fluttering with the wind.
The rain is the tears of the clouds, and I always wonder if the clouds made of rain in the wind have remembered something sad, or whether they have remembered someone or some past, and I can't let go.
The clouds and smoke become rain, the story ends, but in the heart, there is never a feeling of dust settled, and I always feel that one day, I will meet someone, and then continue to write a period of time, there is a cloud made of rain in the wind, and when it falls down, it becomes a trickling rain.
People are middle-aged, but they are still infatuated with words, thank you for visiting and reading, Xiaozhu looks forward to encouraging you.
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