Summer, like a mysterious garden of infinite bifurcation, is full of confusion and loss, joyful reunion and quiet dispersion. In this blazing season, the veins of life are like colorful chaos caused by slight inflammation, intertwined with children's confusion, dark schemes and resentments.
However, more solemn choices often come quietly in the red gold wheat fields and smoky gray rainstorms. We move forward, look at the crows, remember the coldness in each other's eyes, but forget them without hesitation. Because there is no end in the middle of summer, the figures of heroes shuttle between the pictures, and they use firm steps to step out of the trajectory of hope.
Summer is like a cycle in a prism, the other side of the mountain is still a mountain, strange rocks, steep cliffs, the neighing of horses echoing in the valley, and unknown dangers lurking around every corner. But who can deny that the dreamlike plain, the curling smoke full of happiness, give us endless comfort and yearning. Even the stars no longer hang high, as if meekly bowing into our arms, and even distant Vienna is in the embrace of this midsummer.
Summer is not simply repeated, and Sisyphus can stop at the top of the mountain and gaze at the splendid world. Summer has its own hidden rules, and the urge to take risks is like a sting of sudden input, which stimulates our nerves. The days are long, and the sun is mercilessly scorching the earth, but the spirituality of life is like a vast soup like snowmelting, surging endlessly.
We should use our pen and rub our hands against the paper to receive the subtle signal. In the middle of summer, love is no longer cowardly, even if it is separated by the vast crowd and mountains and seas, only the bravest heart can bear the strokes of fate. The slow peeling, diffusion, harmony and convergence of life are regarded as the most delicate writing. The brave people board the boat first, run to all the docks, to explore, to pursue, to embrace this warm and bright summer.
Summer is the carnival of life and the feast of courage. In this infinitely bifurcated garden, we are lost, we are searching, we are bravely moving forward, writing our own legend. Let us have dreams and courage to bloom the most brilliant light in the middle of summer.