A spring rain quietly arrived, spring returned to the earth and everything recovered, in the spring rain of the water, walking on the streets of Nanjing, drenched in rainy air, it seemed particularly fresh, and it was much better to take a few sips of spirit.
Spring breeze drizzle to see a heavy smoke and rain Jiangnan, hazy in the feeling of extraordinarily delicate, wind, mu rain, quietly counting the sound of each petal flower blossoming and falling, heart rain and spring rain imprint each other, evoking me several times to recall a few more associations.
Rainy days are the easiest to nostalgia, open those old photos, suddenly remember those people and those things in those years, unforgettable barracks, those comrades who walked side by side with us, whether they were together for a short time, or worked in the same post for a long time, from acquaintance to acquaintance to the establishment of deep friendship, everything is so unforgettable.
Unfortunately, today, I can only outline the past from the yellowed photos, miss the familiar smiling faces, and think about the bits and pieces of everyone who was together that year. At this moment, I know, there are some good memories, about life, about friendship, about such pictures, but we can never go back.
Remember? More than 40 years ago, we were still a group of naïve young people and teenagers, from Jiangsu, from Zhejiang, from Beijing, from Shanghai... to this national defense warehouse on the bank of the Yangtze River and at the foot of the mountains, since then, every warehouse, every outpost, every classroom, every playground, has left the footprints of our common struggle, and the sweat we have sprinkled together has flowed.
We eat the same pot of rice, we sing the same song, we dream the same. It is said that the comradeship is deep, and only those who have shared hardships and hardships together understand the meaning of it best.
The barracks have been separated for 40 years, and the heavens, the south and the sea are on both sides, but the longing for comrades-in-arms is always there. Time is old, the years are long, some things, can slowly fade out of the mind, no longer important; some feelings, can slowly fade out of the heart, no longer carved bones; some people, can slowly fade out of sight, no longer involved; some of the past, can slowly fade out of the memory, no longer reminiscent. However, there is always a love that cannot be broken, and there are always some people who cannot be forgotten. If the first love of the lover is the most unforgettable, then how can the comrades in the green years forget?
Sometimes a song you will think of them, a familiar road you will think of them, an identical name you will think of them. Camaraderie is like a huge magnet that always draws us closer. In the dream, several times we gathered and scattered, scattered and gathered, and there was an inexplicable concern that has always made us unable to let go of our nostalgia....
The mountains and rivers are separated, and the constant thoughts of comrades-in-arms are separated, and the stars turn and move, which cannot change the friendship between comrades-in-arms.
Remember? A few years ago, it was also this spring, and it was also a day of spring rain, when more than 50 veterans of our year returned to the barracks, took another look at the barracks and the reservoir area, walked the road of the sentry again, and touched the pine trees that had been planted that year and are now lush.
It turns out that the years are a hidden door, as long as a light touch, the memory inside is like flowing water, in that era of burning passion, in the place where this dream began to rise, our group of dream-seeking veterans are surging with emotion, the spring light of the season, faded can be returned, and the spring light of life, lost, never returned, but we want to cross back to the green years.
Maybe the friendship is still there, but life can't go back, the days are consumed day by day, but time can't go backwards, and all that is looked back is memory. Former comrades-in-arms, now busy with their own survival, each looking for their own destiny, each planning their own life, these old photos seem to have become good things, it freezes the picture, freezes the memory, stores our past.
That time we looked at each other, we were together again, and the next reunion was to leave again. However, the smoke and rain were foggy, and those days, those years, we could never go back. We can meet each other, but we can no longer hold hands under the same military flag, we can continue the past, but we can no longer fight side by side and compose our green glory and dreams.
Spring rain comes every year, and spring wind blows again. People's life is very short, and they will encounter many people and many things. In the years, how many dreams have fallen flowers, how many people have gone to tea and cool. Only the comradeship remains the same, only the barracks tea is not cold. Not to say parting, only blessings!
Too much of the past, in the rain, the rain spread. In fact, there can be no story in the rain. There are stories that will also be remembered when it rains, compared to the rain of tonight, and tonight's me!
Life has been a lover since ancient times, and this love is not related to the wind and the moon.
There is me in the rain, there is rain in the heart; thinking of you, in the rain.