On the other side of the road, there is a magnolia.
Sometimes, I would cross the busy road and go around the opposite side. Across the road, there is a community on this side and a development zone on the other. Here are the fireworks in the world, simple and warm, and there makes people feel a bit of the desertion of the industrial age.
Large and small factories, mainly gray tones, and always gray days are connected together, only in the early morning and dusk, will usher in the grand occasion of crowds. But it wasn't long before there was silence again. There is no life there, only survival.
I have an indescribable feeling about Magnolia. I don't really like it, but when it appears, it always catches my eye. In early spring, there are few flowers, and in addition to plum blossoms, magnolia flowers are also the leader.
Although the plum blossoms bloom in the spring cold, they are like a smile. And Magnolia was plain white, trembling in the wind, giving people a sense of helplessness that was unbearable. I suddenly felt sorry for it. I don't think it needs to bloom so early.
The magnolia at the intersection is tall, and it has been around for some years. Every year in early spring, before you know it, it blooms. There is not a single leaf, but it lifts up a tree full of flowers, and on the light base of early spring, it decorates a bit of prosperity. The flowers of the magnolia are huge, its buds are similar to lotus flowers, and the tip of the bud is like the tip of a pen. I saw that the bud gradually grew, and every time it passed, it seemed to grow much larger.
The bud of the magnolia is bulging, as if the wind blows again, and it breaks. But it refuses to show a deep smile, which is really reserved.
This magnolia tree is more lively than I have ever seen, and I have experienced more desertion. It stood beside this road, seeing cars and people coming and going every day, dusty and dusty, stained with dust, and also contaminated with the smell of red dust.
It has seen more ordinary people who run around for firewood, rice, oil and salt every day, and it has also seen more crowds of people, and everyone can't avoid the joys and sorrows. It is accustomed to seeing the four seasons and the passing years, and is accustomed to seeing different people, different faces, and different stories passing through here.
However, no matter how much worldly it is tainted with, it seems to have nothing to do with this world. It overlooks the world with a detached attitude, and the background color of this world is deserted.
When the rush hour is over, the road is quiet. This magnolia tree can finally be quiet and undisturbed.
The appearance of early spring was originally blurred, but when the magnolia blooms, the appearance of early spring suddenly becomes clear. Looking at it from afar, the white, eye-catching flowers of the tree always make people's eyes shine.
Across the road, I look at the time of my youth, so white, so bright, flowers, and moonlight, in the depths of time, never ending.
When the magnolia blooms, it looks like a white dove resting on a tree. They fluttered their wings gently in the spring breeze, so white that there was not a trace of variegation, and there was not half a bit of dust. The flowers are half-opened, already full of spring light, like fine wine, and if they leak out slightly, they are already poured.
In the midst of people coming and going, I looked at the magnolia, which was always indifferent and cold, as if it was out of place with the world. Closer to it are the blue sky and floating clouds, and the birds flying in the air.
Magnolia always reminds me of youth. Youth is also like this, always a little far from the real world. However, now, when I have reached middle age, looking back on the past, I find that youth is really getting farther and farther away from me. I tried to reach out and touch it, but I felt a chill in the air. The magnolia bloomed one by one, it was cold, just like youth, no matter how hot the youth was, it was cold after all. Unlike the camellia in the flower bed, it is dyed rouge and smiling.
Maybe the camellia is also youth, but it is someone else's youth. My youth was more like a magnolia, hiding too many things on my mind, carefully wrapped up, afraid of being seen.
On a night when the spring breeze was blowing, I opened a little cautiously and tentatively, and it was so cold that I was so scared that I was cowering and a little overwhelmed.
However, the magnolia still bloomed firmly, not in the season when the wind and sun were beautiful, and there were no other flowers as companions. When it was warm and cold, the magnolia of that tree was not for anyone, but for one's own wishes, in order to take a look at the world.
No matter what kind of flower it is, no matter how ordinary a person is, since you are here, you have to experience it. Suffering and happiness, gathering and dispersing, flowers blooming and falling, people come and go, no one can control it, but we will always be in it, and understand the truest meaning of life and life.
The magnolia tree stood in early spring, not afraid of loneliness, nor afraid of the cold of spring. After a few days of blooming, large petals began to fall. The petals of the magnolia are really extravagant, like small boats, falling on the ground and in the canal by the roadside.
Over time, the petals gradually turned yellow and dehydrated. There are no bees and butterflies at this time, only passing birds, sighing for it.
The pedestrians who came and went trampled on the fallen flowers, and the petal-white boat was so news in time. And in the air, there are more petals falling.
On the branches, the flowers are still blooming, and the fat and white flowers are strong in the face of the cold of spring, but they are no match for time. Especially after a rain, the petals fall more.
watched as the spring light on the trees was cut off like this. Later, the flowers and branches were sparse, the blue sky was bluer, the floating clouds were larger, and only the white magnolia fell asleep quietly in the thickening spring light.
And under the tree, there are still people coming and going, and there is a lot of traffic. It's early morning again, it's dusk again, the flowers are blooming, and the flowers are falling again. The magnolia, across the road, stared at me, always in an instant, and hit my heart. It made me feel distressed.