【Fang knows that this year is different】
Author: Wind And Snow
Some time ago, I was busy with miscellaneous trivialities, until there were many cars on the street, and when I opened the window, I saw the bustle of the city. Hearing the Spring Festival overture played in the mall downstairs, the cheerful music, songs, gongs and drums, only then did I realize that the New Year was approaching.
The great cold has passed, and the winter color of the human world is over at this time; the severe cold will fade, and the spring breeze will slowly return. In the downtown streets, laughter and laughter are like the parting of the past year, all paid to the warmth and joy of this moment.
Sometimes I ask: What is it like to be nian?
If a child will answer: Nian, is the laughter in the sound of firecrackers, is the joy of receiving red envelopes; if the elderly will answer: Nian, is a reunion reunion, is the companionship of coming and going. If the parting will answer: the year is the way to guide the reunion; if the waiting person will answer: the year is the bell of happy return... Different people, different scenes, in this vast world, there are thousands of tastes.
I think of the days when I was a child and laughing with my brothers and sisters, I think of the way I received red envelopes when I was a child; I think of the time when a large family was a lively and lively reunion, gathered around the big round table to talk about their own words this year, set off fireworks together after dinner, and watched the party... The heart can't help but warm up.
Many people will say that the older you grow up, the less you will find the taste of the year. Some people will answer, that is because the more you experience, the more you see, the more you lose the novelty - even time will be thinner, and the taste will be weaker and weaker.
We have forgotten our lives in the hustle and bustle of life, walking in the streets that come and go, the sky flies by three hundred and sixty-five planes, leaving only the traces of the clouds, fleeting; the numbers that beat on the hands tell you and me: A new day is coming.
The stars in the sky illuminate the earth, and the dust on the earth is similar. People are not like ephemera, dying in the twilight, for a short time, but there are always some times, year after year, winter to spring, the twilight flowers are similar, and the years are different.
Sometimes I think that the taste of that year can no longer be found, perhaps because that person is no longer there.
Twenty years ago, we could still rejoice on their knees; twenty years later, there would be only empty chairs at the round table.
More than a decade ago, they were my brothers and sisters, laughing and fooling around; more than a decade later, they were someone else's bride and groom, and for the New Year's Holiday, they had another place to go. I'm not upset about that, on the contrary, I'm glad they've found their own happiness.
Only occasionally see the clouds floating in the sky, see the children walking side by side through the streets hand in hand, hear the Spring Festival overture, and see the neon shining, they will laugh and sigh: "Last year, in this door today, the faces of peach blossoms were red." People don't know where to go, and peach blossoms are still smiling in the spring breeze. ”
Fang knows that this year is different.
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