Reference design of handwritten newspaper in spring

The reference design of the handwritten newspaper about spring blossoms 1.

Refer to the design drawing and hand-written newspaper Spring Blossoms 2.

I have an appointment with Spring.

Spring, let me come back every year. Warm heart melts into mud and scatters in your world. ? Notes before the text of a book or after the title of an article.

? And the sharp wind tip cuts the face like a knife? I really feel this way. I miss spring a little. That spring was really special, but it was just a sand shadow in my memory?

I walked on a small road full of mud and stones in the country, and the dust I stepped on stained my shoes. The oncoming wind is a little warm. I can't help but stop, because I seem to see the night watchman in the field. Spring is the season of transplanting rice seedlings, and every farmer will not be idle. I set foot on the path of the field, which was covered with fresh grass. Before transplanting rice, I'll turn the ground with a hoe, and then prepare the soil with cattle.

At that time, I was young and ignorant. I only took a hoe to hoe the ground when I saw grass. My grandmother always scolds me for not weeding well. Whenever I use a cow to pull a plow to prepare the soil, I always climb on the back of the cow naughtily, or my grandmother asks me to hold the plow, so I pull the plow and let the cow pull me along, and the whole person falls into a quagmire. Grandma said I:? You bully cattle like this. After a while, it doesn't work, so you pull the plow. ?

I walked on again. Memory is like an hourglass, bit by bit. Wow? The crisp sound of running water once attracted me. I approached quietly, as if I heard the children's frolicking, grandma's crying, and saw many white pears, which landed in that stream and wandered around like a boat, like? The spring tide brought the rain late and urgent, and there was no boat on the wild crossing. ? This feeling. Suddenly, a few birds flew out of the pear tree and shook the pear down. The flowers fell on the water like snow with slight waves. Now I understand, why did the poet Cen Can write? Like the spring wind, it blows at night and blows open the petals of ten thousand pear trees? This poem is over. I carefully left the stream pond and looked back. There is nothing here. That's just a video I remember playing.

I am drifting away and deeper. How prosperous it is to walk into the deep mountains and look at the ferns all over the mountain! My thoughts are drifting away? At that time, I always fell in love with mountains and looked for a big fern. Because of the special shape of fern leaves, I can make a beautiful small fan, not only that, but also a wreath and so on. At that time, I always pestered my grandmother to teach me how to knit a sweater. On the mountain, there is a large bamboo forest. In this spring season, I always like to look for new bamboo shoots in the fields. In fact, I really don't care whether I am old or young, grandma said. Old people can't eat. I feel that all bamboo shoots look the same. Every spring rain can moisten a large bamboo forest and bamboo shoots, which stretch out from the ground one after another? In a trance, there was a sound of branches swaying. I came to my senses and looked at those gray and broken trees. They must have been laid by the cruel frost in winter, and they were still a little green. The mountain is covered with a layer of white ash, and there is also a hint of green inside.

I walked home gradually and stood on the dock in front of my house. In spring, I fell into a deep pool of memory. Even if there are traces left by you, there is no childlike innocence left in that childhood. Which spring watcher can't watch it any more this spring?

Before I leave, I have an agreement with Spring: My spring, don't be afraid of loneliness, let me come back every year. My warm heart melts into mud and scatters in your world. ?