In Zhejiang, a land shrouded in continuous drizzle, I spent countless weekends. Once, I was a little tired of the always gray skies here, and the seemingly never-ending rainy weather cast a mist over my heart. However, as time went on, I slowly discovered that even on the gloomiest days, a soft, warm light in my home could illuminate the gloom in my heart.
Whenever the weekend comes, no matter how the rain outside the window is woven into the curtains, I can find peace in the warmth of home. Those simple everyday moments—a hot cup of tea, a good book, a piece of melodious music—they were like starlight that pierced through the clouds and warmed my heart.
I began to cherish every moment of contact with the "flower world" in nature. After the rain, I would go to the window and breathe in the fresh air of the earth and flowers, observing the plants that were more vibrant under the rain. I have discovered that even small beings have the power to grow tenaciously, and they silently tell me that in any corner of life, there is hope and beauty waiting to be discovered.
As the years passed, my home became my most solid haven. Whether it's sunny or rainy, there is always a warm force in the home, which comes from every carefully arranged corner, from every family laughter, from every ordinary and real moment. These warmth are like a drizzle, subtly nourishing me, allowing me to find my own peace and joy in the rainy land of Zhejiang.
Now, I no longer resist the continuous rain, but have learned to find the beauty of life in this moist breath. Every weekend, when the warm light fills the room, I am deeply grateful, because I know that no matter how the outside world changes, this home that loves and loves the weekend will always be my warmest harbor.