The wind blew again on the summer evening, and when it came to the last train of summer, I was not ready to get off the train, and began to remind me.
The wind blew into my room, and I got up and walked outside the door. I saw a bench on the balcony and sat down. The wind was blowing, and I watched, the lotus leaves swaying, the grass shaking. The wind blew harder, a light rain blew in, and slowly, the raindrops began to leave footprints on the fence in a hurry—the rain was heavy.
I went downstairs and sat in the doorway and watched it rain outside the door. The wind blew down the brackets and poles for drying clothes, and raindrops dripped from there. Raindrops danced on the accumulated water outside the door, like boiling water in a pot, boiling my thoughts. A flock of white birds flew in the direction the sun was setting, as if chasing something. I looked at the rain in the distance like fog, as if I were standing in the fog and couldn't see the distance clearly.
I don't know if I'm writing about wind or rain, and I feel like I'm lost...
When the wind blows, it feels like the weather is ok; the temperature is just right; the atmosphere is still romantic, but it always feels like something is missing. I always thought that when the wind blew, it would soothe my thoughts, but the more such moments became, the more I thought about it.
The wind is blowing, what am I listening to, what am I looking at? I was listening to the sound of the wind blowing, and I was watching the wind blow in front of my eyes. But I want to hear voices from afar, and I want to look at landscapes from afar.
The wind was blowing, and I seemed to be waiting for someone, I seemed to have an agreement with that person, and I seemed to have deep feelings for that person. I think one day, the wind will be able to up the clouds, walk to the milky way, walk across the Queqiao Bridge, and meet you. But...... Forget it, let the wind carry my thoughts, cross the rivers, through the streets and alleys, and finally through your window, into your dreams, and say to you: I haven't seen you for a long time...
The wind was blowing, I was messy in the wind, and the wind scattered my thoughts and turned into raindrops that fell one after another. My thoughts seemed to rise again with the wind, soaring up ninety thousand miles, turning into thunder, into lightning, showing off their majesty in the clouds. If that lightning shattered the darkness, would I be able to stand at the moment when dawn broke?
The wind is blowing, the wind is blowing, the wind is blowing...