I sat under the woody flowers for a long time. The petals fell all over the body, as if it were a snow.
There is a neem tree by the river in Daxinqiao Lane. Full of tree buds. These days, you see, the flowers should be blooming very well. When the neem is about to bloom, the buds are slightly dipped in lilac, until they are fully open, the petals are light white, and a cluster of dark purple in the middle is beautiful and lovely. The neem flowers of April are a poem written to you in the spring.
There is not much open space in front of the door, and it is enough to plant a rose. Seven or eight years is enough time for it to climb up the roof to shade the green tiles. At the turn of spring and summer, the vine leaves are innumerable, and the flowers and buds are clustered. It seemed that overnight, the roses burst into flames. Light saucer-shaped florets, pale pink in color, delicate in appearance, although heavy petals are stacked without appearing complicated. When it rains in the morning, the rose flowers bring rain, so there is the meaning of "powerless rose lying on the branch". When the flowers bloom, I happen to be there, as if the flowers were specially bloomed for me.
This red moon season, the petals are as thin as silk, the appearance is very pretty, anyone who climbs the window, will attract people's love. There was an old-fashioned pattern on the window glass, which reflected the moon and the season, silent and beautiful.
After the valley rain, the green of the camphor tree is really fresh and beautiful, full of lush greenery, and it will not make people feel heavy. If you look closely, you will find that the branches and leaves are already full of flowers. The camphor flowers were fragmented, their petals were six, almost transparent, but from a distance, the clusters were yellowish. The fragrance of camphor tree flowers is also fragmented and is not easy for people to perceive. Walking under the tree, you will inadvertently smell a faint fragrance, deliberately look for it, but there is no trace. Many flowers have a sweet taste in them, and the camphor flowers are not sweet, and the refreshing taste, like washed by rain, is put in the sun to dry.
Rain on the way out. The rain fell on the long alleys, on the roof tiles of the people's houses, down in the river, a trace, endlessly. Standing on the bridge to watch the rain, the rain has been chaotic on the water, and the water surface has rippled with pear swirls, holding the faint fragrance of flowers and vigorous greenery in the city. At this time, the streets and alleys were just rightly silent, there were not many people coming and going, the flowers were blooming seriously, and the leaves were green. With an umbrella, you can walk from one end of the road to the other. As we walked, the rain stopped.
| description| The author of the picture and text of this article, Qin Huaisang, has been authorized to use the picture, the copyright belongs to the original author, only for exchange and learning, not for commercial use.
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