Sentence/Post
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You are the blossom of a tree, the whisper of a swallow between the beams. You are love, warmth, hope, april days on earth.
--Lin Huiyin
01.
There is a row of magnolia trees on the playground on the west side of the school, because it is the spring season, and the magnolia trees are blooming well.
The tree was originally extremely beautiful, the magnolia flowers bloomed more densely than all the magnolia trees I had seen before, and on sunny afternoons, my roommate and I sometimes ran by and could see the flowers swaying gently in the evening wind. The whiteness of a tree, the petals of a fallen flower after a moment of butterfly-like fluttering, fell to the ground and became a relic of spring.
After passing through the white, the housemate said that the magnolia flowers were fragrant. I sniffed hard, didn't I? Is magnolia scented?
The roommate smiled and didn't speak.
Later, one evening, I passed alone on the magnolia flower path, and the sunset of that day burned the sky very red, and a pair of lovers passed by on the road. Old ballads were on the radio, and inadvertently a gust of wind blew softly, and I smelled a very faint and extremely hidden aroma.
Without the elegance of Jasmine, without the unbridled frenzy of a rose, it is more like a fleeting thought, like the poet's momentary aura. People with hearts will write it down, while people with no heart will forget it forever after missing it once.
02.
It seems that everyone has a few magnolia trees in their young memories, just like the wisteria corridor in the memory of youth, hidden in the memories of the years, and will be inadvertently remembered.
Next to the open playground, the well-grown magnolia trees tower into the clouds, and the magnolia flowers always bloom at the top of the trees. Flowers always bloom in spring.
The flower language of the magnolia flower is loyal love, perseverance and self-confidence. It is named after "white and slightly blue, fragrant like orchid", Qu Yuan once wrote in the poem: "Towards the fall of Mulan, the fall of the sunset chrysanthemum." ”
When the magnolia blossoms, I have met amazing people. Because the magnolia flower is obsessed with her, and because she is in love with this kind of flower.
Near the height of summer, the magnolia flowers begin to fall in large quantities, and when the wind rises, the petals are like pieces of paper blown by the wind, falling on the shady ground. Under the magnolia tree, there was a girl.
She wore a light blue loose coat, and let the wind gently pull the corners of her clothes, connecting and pulling up her long dark hair. She picked up the magnolia petals one by one and sandwiched them in the pages.
I said, "Do you like flowers?" ”
The breeze blows, we all feel a spring breeze blowing on our faces, the sunset light slowly dissipates, the red sky dims, and the distant mountains turn black. A dark shadow of color, still retaining a bit of fire mist, seems to paint every corner of the campus with inky black and dark red tones.
She shook her head, nodded slightly, and handed me the notebook in her hand. Inside the book are pieces of yellowed and oxidized petals.
"I want to keep them, it's part of spring and there won't be anymore," she said. ”
I gently picked up a petal and put it in her hand, "So spring is in your hand." I smiled and looked at her.
03.
Walking in such a season, when the wind blows, everything is swaying, including my heart.
Such thoughts are extremely exciting and sad, and this sadness sometimes comes to the soul and trembles, like the earth under the ice and snow. In this way, spring brewing is always indispensable, and a pot of sake is brewed with collected flowers. Carrying sake to soothe the wind and dust, it seems that only the burning of wine can relieve the ice of the soul.
The moment I looked up, the magnolia flowers began to rain in the wind. When the flowers are fully bloomed, they are not far from falling.
I remembered the picture of you lying in bed at the end of your life, when you were pale and seemed to merge with the snow-white sheets, and it turned out that was your final destination.
With your last strength, you made me pick up the book, and I opened it, and the dried magnolia petals floated out gently. At that time, I felt that the weight of life could be so light, and you lying on the bed at that time looked like the petals, as if it would float away in the next second.
Finally, your life drifts away as gently as the petal, lighter than the dried petal, and I want to grasp it but I can't grasp it. In the end, I can only put that book in my pocket and continue the journey of your life.
Looking down, a petal was about to fall into the open wine glass.
I grabbed it in that instant, looked at it in the palm of my hand for a long time, and then put away the magnolia flower and gently clipped it into the book. At that moment, I knew you had never left.
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