Memories of short years

The most memorable thing in the world is childhood, the most nostalgic is the hometown, and the most unwilling is time. Years are like songs of youth. Once singing, there is no turning back. The past is like the wind, and the depth and shallowness are floating in the brilliance of the sun and the moon, leaving shallow memories and faint sorrows. The spring breeze of May gently blows across his face, the amorous white clouds cling tightly to the vast blue sky, the green bamboo and emerald banyan trees of Xiuyi Junting, a string of warm reds, bringing spring vitality and joy to the tranquil Lingnan Impression Park.

Walking in the familiar garden, looking at the tasted pots, fubing, cat ears, chicken cakes, used fish baskets, fishing nets and "wind cabinets", I felt a warm current flowing in my heart, awakening the sleeping memory. I was intoxicated like a child, quietly reminiscing, as if I had seen my hometown and returned to my childhood. Recalling the time when facing the loess and facing the sky, the hot sun shone on three little people. Three dwarfs wearing large straw hats and swaying water shoes on their feet run along the edge of the winding and rugged pentagonal fields.

My brothers walked ahead, carrying the heavy seedlings ready to be sown in the field. I walked behind, singing and dancing, "There is no fragrance of flowers and the height of the trees, I am a little grass, no one knows." I'm never lonely or worried. You see, my partners are all over the world. Spring wind, spring wind, you green, sunshine, you shine on me...

I am a carefree wild girl with no distractions and no worries. I followed my brothers to work in the fields on the rough paths, half playing, half working. The green years, the innocent childhood, the busy figure, one by one appear in front of us. The corners of his mouth couldn't help but reveal a shallow smile, like a rainbow in the sky. The sound of the sheep hiding in the house woke me up. I'm still reveling in the memory. I calmed down. It's almost time to close the park. There were a few tourists in front of me.

In Happy Childhood, there are three or two children playing with sand. The birds in the cage hissed, happy and carefree, happy and mischievous, and the narrow paths were filled with sincere hearts. He lifted his head, holding the sunset in his hand, suddenly lifted his feet, and took a big stride like a child, toward tomorrow and the distance. The wind, the road, the bridge, and the field all enter time, precipitating into a faint floral fragrance that emits fragrance at every moment in the future.

This girl who was unfamiliar with the world, who was never lonely, who never worried, was now grown. Although childhood has passed, the childlike heart is still there. I look forward to a day in the passionate Month of June, with a bright heart, back to my tender hometown.