Snowy prose

Some scenery, born in natural time, although not personal, can give wings to the soul and carry meaning beyond itself. ...

Knowing that she is running towards the earth, she will still meditate in the cold, listen to my call and dance with my heart. ...

In the cold winter, I always miss her, hoping that she will appear as soon as possible, and even her figure has filled my dreams. However, waiting for her absence makes the snobbery of reality more intense, leaving material nakedness and emotional paleness, freezing the passion below zero into dullness, idealizing the soaring into rime, frosting the cold reason and returning to greed for it, and laughing off some ethereal things.

She came late, small and lovely, like an elf jumping from another space, full of joy in the coming spring, adding infinite love to the surprise. She floats in the red lantern hanging high, and the yellow leaves under the lamp also dispel the last breath of youth, which means that winter is about to pass, and there is no shallow resentment and hate when we don't meet. It is not God's mission, and she will not live for a person's love. It's just a coincidence in time. With her gaudy appearance and elegant, soft and furry body like Yun Xiang, she interweaves and deduces an anecdote about human affairs.

In the morning, I eagerly got out of bed and looked through the gap. She is still dancing delicately. Has been covered with some dirt and dust, all kinds of bright white and unique buildings, shining under her white robe. There are ice flowers with hazy eyes on the window glass with cold outside and hot inside. In the distance, the vigorous Qinling Mountains are finally clean because of her love. Nearby roofs, ridges, vegetable fields, weeds and paths all admire her beauty and obedience. The crooked and thin branches of the old tree seem to be stained with cotton candy that children love to eat. A few dog barks are also loyal and natural, cheering and jumping for joy. A lonely bird is looking for a companion to moan and fly by, but Cher is sitting on the thick arm of a tower pine tree and wandering freely. With the wind blowing gently, snowflakes are dancing to show interest, and the falling petals are happy and comfortable. In the field of vision, a group of young poplars stand tall, unaware of their lofty status in childhood, far from the shelter of big trees, showing an awesome future, approaching the sky and showing touching perseverance. Breathing and blinking, my illusion is like a group of young people in their early twenties standing in a row in winter, their hair is as different as hedgehog hair, their thin clothes are tall and hard, showing the strength of their blood, their arms are bent to the sky, and their vigor and vitality are fearless.

About her, it's not unusual or novel, it's a seasonal product. As for her, everyone expects to be late. When the earth is wide and the bed is tender, the wheat is as happy and moist as sucking ice cream for hundreds of millions of years, the lonely grass roots are enjoying the supplies underground, the dead trees are washed by thousands of tender fingers by default, and the delicate flowers are loved and hidden in the greenhouse. When people fall and pile up one after another, human beings have an excuse to stop breathing, and the rest heart is more leisurely in a year, and some excitement will surely shrink into the heating bag and sleep peacefully.

Meditate in a lonely space, boil a pot of water to make tea, watch the tea slowly stretch in the water, respect the soul and intuition, and appreciate a kind of beauty. I remember that day, when I was making a living, facing the snow and walking in the gray mud. The wheels rolled down like the stirring of brown sugar water, and the force of stepping back and forth once ravaged the weak snow cake. I also believe that even if she is as beautiful as a fairy and falls into the world, even if she doesn't go through frying, frying, steaming, frying, boiling, boiling and stewing, she will be contaminated with dust and the cold will condense into a crooked beam. When the day is really polished, those who are frivolous and bullied will have heavy consequences.

Out of the narrow house, the snow has spread out and covered everything, and the world is monotonous and silent. Walking on the road, the rustling cold wind cut my face and hands, and the cold wind made my forehead cool. In the long night, the familiar countryside has been completely captured by the White League, and the travelers who are in a hurry are helpless. In the field, the pioneers left different shades of gray footprints on the white body, while Mangye's hot shoes were deeply immersed in the cold nest when he was innovating. Fog raid, distant view of the scenery, few people on the way back. There are people waiting to go home by the roadside. His eyes are blank and he looks around, just like my simple and honest brother in my hometown. The criss-crossing ravines on his face are the marks of vicissitudes. He was in a hurry to go home and stay behind him, and he couldn't tell whether to expect the snow to continue or stop. Near the lonely farmhouse, a haunting song came from the stereo, and a few lyrics inspired my heart and caused a * * * sound in my heart. I am like a lonely baby, standing on the edge of the field enjoying her loving caress, numb caress and obvious warm itch. Snowflakes are falling, and the pale yellow spring has already summoned spring. I sort out some thoughts under the snow, lacking a heavy foundation and uncertain thoughts, so that some likes and pursuits turn into floating water vapor in the sun. Noisy, firecrackers in the Spring Festival are still firecrackers; Persuade not to listen, the child is playful and deliberately slams the gun; I can't stop crying, and some materials are screaming loudly. The snow disappeared completely at that moment. When will the clouds come and the spring breeze come back?

The same is to enjoy the snow scene, which is different from previous years. The same is to watch the snow melt and feel different from year to year. Snowflakes can be packed in thousands at this time, but they will melt at that time. No matter how the past settled on them, how to clean their skin, how to tear and iron the old wrinkles of the years, the personnel between heaven and earth are changeable, and the whole life will eventually grow old. When you travel through time and space, you will be obsessed with pursuing some people, and you will feel guilty about some things, such as the taste of pickled radish leaves in the jar, how salty and stagnant it is.

Snow should be appreciated. Old things should be washed with pure white feathers first. Secondly, she adds color to the cold winter and contains new atmosphere. In addition, although snow can't make the world white for a long time, it can't soften the stubbornness of international power bullies for nuclear fission. But when the snow gradually melts, falls on the eaves, turns into ice water and turns into soil, this is not a hypocritical escape, but a kind of beauty that is transformed into reality in the sun. I know that even if snow is just a pale mood, it is frozen with the cold night. After the enlightenment of winter, snow will know how to be clean. The purity of snow contains the hope that countless lives will germinate under the dazzling light. Under the sunshine, it will be more tender and tender, such as water, charity, watering vegetation in cold winter.

I'm still glad it will snow in winter. Although shaking off my attachment can't melt a foot of water, I'd like to watch her dance, listen to her singing in the wind, like the hair she brushed in my ear, laugh silly with her, dream of infinite amorous feelings, build a brilliant tomorrow with my heart and enjoy some short and beautiful time instead of dancing.