In the passage of time, the snow festival ushered in.
Unfortunately, a heavy snow did not arrive as expected.
The sun was shining warmly on the bay window, and I counted the years in the light and shadow.
A cup of spring tea is a fragrance given by nature; a book of poetry is a bridge to the spiritual realm; an ashram is the dojo where my soul is placed.
Peach of death, scorching its glory, the son of Yu Gui, Yi Room IKEA
My impression of peach blossoms is beautiful.
Among the tender green new leaves, there are delicate peach blossoms, red like fire, pink like Xia. Or the buds are red, or the buds are waiting to be released, or the petals are full of powder, swaying in the spring breeze.
Until I encountered "the peach of death, the scorching brilliance", I knew that there were no words that could surpass its description of peach blossoms. The image of "burning, dying" vividly writes her bright and moving, radiant and radiant.
She can't help but think of the beautiful people of the two or eight years, bright eyes, pink face shyness, all the beauty in a sentence of "IKEA room".
However, since ancient times, good things have been more grinding, more is not to be sought, leaving a beautiful and sad story in vain.
"Last year, in this door today, people's faces were full of peach blossoms. People don't know where to go, and peach blossoms are still smiling in the spring breeze." Cui Hu's "Title Capital City Nanzhuang" writes about the beauty of the peach blossoms on the face of the people, and also expresses the heartache that cannot be seen.
A "laugh" word that makes the charm and charm of the peach blossom jump on the paper.
Crabapples are pale, white dew is frost, the so-called Yi people, on the water side
The beauty of the reed flower is in the thinness, in the weakness, in the purity, in the hazy shadow of the waves, but also in the tranquility and peace that are not vines and not branches, not flattering.
She was like a quiet and beautiful stick figure. The green leaves, the flowers of the snow, do not stain a trace of variegated color, but otherworldly, beautiful and elegant.
Under the blue sky, the quietly flowing stream is the mirror of her dressing. Above Qingbo, a plain-clothed egret is one of her few confidants.
The beauty across the water, cold and silent, is close at hand and far away in the sky.
I don't know if I love the spring peach blossoms of IKEA more, or the autumn leaves that love white dew as frost.
Inadvertently, above the plain note, under the winter sun, a moving little flower has bloomed.