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Everything in the world has feelings, it’s just that the way it is conveyed is different.
--Inscription.
Sitting quietly in front of the window, looking out the window in trance. Outside the window was a vast expanse of white, and everything was covered with a snow-colored gauze. The gauze danced up and down scatteredly, disturbing the line of sight. It seems that the layer of gauze covers the eyes, hazy and shadowy, making it difficult to see clearly and clearly. It feels like there is everything there, and it seems like there is nothing. I can't help but want to peel off that layer. Yarn, satisfy that curious heart. I stood up and walked outside.
Stopping at the door and looking from a distance, the sky and the earth are all white, seamlessly connected, and you can't see the edge at a glance. It's so white that it's monotonous, so white that there is no new idea. Only a few small wooden houses in the distance add to this white paper. A few different strokes of color. I walked forward slowly, my feet stepping on the soft snow and rubbing against the ground, making a "squeaking" sound, which conveyed the slightest hint of loneliness in this cold silence. Walking in a white world, there is no designated direction, because everywhere you go there is only white, just like a white scroll with nothing written on it, there is no end, and there is no ending. My thoughts are like this white scroll, blank. I simply follow my heart and move with my emotions. Everything goes with the flow, carefree and unrestrained.
After looking at the monotonous snow scene for a long time, my eyes inevitably felt a little sore, so I lowered my head and silently counted my steps. The cold wind blew by, and I couldn't help but shrink my neck. My eyes followed my toes up and down numbly, but my thoughts had long been empty, drifting far, far away with the biting cold wind. Occasionally there were a few noises behind me, and I turned my head subconsciously, but found that there was nothing. It was still a single white color. I only saw a series of deep and shallow footprints embedded in the snow-white ground, spreading from the horizon to my feet. Suddenly: We have come so far. Looking back, I realized that I had just forgotten what I had just thought about and how far I had counted my steps.
As I was walking, a few flashes of bright red suddenly appeared in my field of vision, which caught me off guard. I rubbed my eyes and looked carefully, only to realize that it was actually a plum tree. There are dots of red plum blossoms blooming on the bare branches. If you ignore those few touches of red, no one would have thought that there would be a plum tree standing in this wilderness, right? A single branch stands proudly in the wind. There are still some water drops from the melted snow on the bright red plum petals. The water drops are crystal clear and want to flow, which makes people tremble. It makes the plum blossoms even redder. Gorgeous, more and more delicate and charming. Looking from a distance, it looks like a plum blossom painting has finally been painted on this white scroll that has not changed for thousands of years. It is really beautiful.
Some people say that plum blossoms are arrogant and only want to wait until all the flowers have withered before they bloom slowly and disdainfully. However, this kind of coldness and arrogance on her body not only does not look vulgar, but also adds a touch of beauty to the plum blossoms. It seems extremely harmonious, as if this is what it should be. yes! Mei, she is arrogant, but she has the capital. What kind of flower in the world is willing to bloom in the frost and snow? But, Mei, she did it. She stretched her graceful figure in the biting cold wind, and she opened an optimistic smile to the cold frost. It seemed that nothing could stop her firm love for winter. She never complained that she was blooming in the cold winter of ice and snow. She just bloomed with her own beauty that had been brewing for three seasons without anyone else. She didn't care whether others saw it or not, as long as she knew that she had lived up to her efforts in those three seasons, she would be happy. enough.
This Mei seems to be a fairy who has emerged from the world, with a kind of persistence and arrogance that is born in her bones. If others misunderstand her, she will not explain it, and she does not bother to explain it. When encountering difficulties, she never bows her head, and she also You won't put down your dignity to ask others for help, you will only suffer it silently. This kind of arrogance is not annoying, but is a sign of strength. This kind of strength makes me admire her. Even in the biting cold wind, she still drives so brightly and eye-catchingly, and that kind of strength is almost stubborn. Her persistence makes me feel a little distressed. I feel sorry for her that even though she is bruised and bruised, she still tries to smile, trying to show her most beautiful side to the world, even though I know she does not need pity...
It's early spring, and I'm walking here just like last time, but the difference is that I have an extra book in my hand, and I'm no longer walking in the snow, because the white snow has melted, and the snow water is mixed with the bright red plum blossoms all over the ground. A petal, a pool of blood, a coquettish manzhushahua. A ray of sunlight pours down, through the cracks in the branches, and casts a fine mottled patch on the cold snow water, glowing with a soft halo. Although there is a hint of warmth, it is undoubtedly a drop in the bucket and cannot warm up this extremely cold day. water formed by melting things. "Frost leaves are as red as flowers in February", I know this is impossible, the plum blossom will eventually wither, she will wither like the flowers in the world, there is no way to escape the clutches of fate. I clearly know in my heart that this is the normal state of the world, this is the cycle of life, this is inevitable, and no one can stop it. But, why, there is still a flash of sadness in my heart. Although it is only a short moment, I still feel it. I know that I can't bear to let her go like this... I can't bear to... "Pa", there is a crisp sound The sound of objects colliding disturbed my thoughts. When I came back to my senses, I felt my face was cold and I touched my cheek. There were still incomplete tear stains on it, indicating what had just happened. It turns out that I am so sentimental! I sighed and couldn't help but laugh at myself, with a bitter curve at the corner of my mouth.
Lowering his head, the book in his hand opened at some point. There was only a poem written by Gong Zizhen on the page: "Falling red is not a heartless thing, it turns into spring mud to protect the flowers." At this time, a piece of plum fell down. , it just happened to fall on that poem...
