Text/"Alone"
Loved walking. And only likes to walk alone.
If you are a partner and have to take care of the emotions of another person, you will be distracted, unable to concentrate on enjoying the scenery along the road, and very uncomfortable.
The dogtail grass that filled the embankment, furry and green, crossed a layer of gold in the red sun rising in the morning, and in a flash of time, like a phoenix crown, it became noble. The croissant flowers were miserable white, crowded and crowded, covered with pine branches, paulownia a top of purple-red fruit, two or three pale blue morning glory flowers, timidly blooming in the grass, she had another name called Xi Yan, towards the opening and sunset, red face thin life.
A large piece of small yellow flowers, and suddenly in front of the eyes, every year to live up to the yellow flower covenant, every year want to go to see a person, but every year finally lost the appointment, can only sigh at the yellow flower!
The pale green and milky white national locust flowers are still falling in clusters, a cleaner sweeps up a small pile and throws it into the garbage truck, if it is Daiyu, and wants a small hoe sachet to bury the flowers, the cleaner will not.
A red-headed, gold-winged dragonfly skimmed past its ears and flew so low that it seemed as if it could reach out and catch it.
A dog is flirting with a cat, chasing and stopping, and the cat looks like he wants to refuse to return the favor.
An old woman of about sixty, dressed in black and draped in a red scarf, sang Peking opera under a yuanbao maple, hanging her throat, very windy.
An old man, covered by a straw hat, sat with a fishing rod in his hand, waiting for the fish to be hooked, and the acacia tree on the embankment gave him a huge shade on his back.
A middle-aged man, playing saxophone, blowing "The Edge of the Sky", blowing melodiously, unsentimental, and undistracted.
Not far away, a bridge is under construction, and the builders have all the big red hard hats and all the black iron faces.
There are so many unknown grasses, pointed leaves, round leaves, affectionate, thick, kissing the fiery land, what should they be called?
I prefer to call them all the mushrooms in the Book of Poetry and Jiang Wu in the Chu Ci!
