Ye Yuping: March, strolling in the poetic south of the Yangtze River.

It is best to be at four o'clock in March, and never go back to the teenager. March, in the poems of the ancients, is always so beautiful and so melancholy. In fact, I didn't know the taste of sadness until I was in my teens. Perhaps the mind of middle-aged women is more lingering. No, it started in March. We experimented with the monks and walked together in the eternal Jiangnan in our hearts. Yes, there is no need to choose a foggy rainy day. Jiangnan in March is poetic every day. Starting is the best trip. How can we thank our school? The annual "March 8th trip" has become the inner germination of each of our experimenters, and every destination has made me daydream. Wuyuan, the destination of our trip, is beautiful countryside, which can evoke endless homesickness and childhood memories. I can't help whispering: Oh, Wuyuan ... must be the place where a particularly beautiful woman lives. Or perhaps the countryside where fireworks remain can wash our hearts.

Singing and laughing all the way, daydreaming aimlessly, we soon arrived at the first scenic spot-Wuyuan-Huangling. Looking down on the cable car, I saw that the rice fields were pitted and there were rapeseed in the rice fields; Without the golden color of this time in previous years. This year, due to the weather, rape blossoms are only sporadic, but they are like a different kind of spot dyeing, revealing chic and shyness. The breeze blows, the flowers are like whispers, and the mood is naturally relaxed. Paddy fields are surrounded by endless green hills, and smoke from kitchen chimneys is looming, much like ink painting. When I got off the cable car and walked on foot, I saw an ancient village with white walls and tiles, with the charm of Huizhou school, centered on the ancient village and surrounded by camphor trees and bamboo forests, with a history of 200 to 300 years. The years are mottled and poetic. The forest is surrounded by terraced fields, and the village is located in the green mountains and green waters, which complements the surrounding scenery and looks quaint, quiet and elegant. Step lightly on the bluestone board and walk in the ancient village, and everything around will be quiet and return to the original tranquility. Stop and stay, like being in an ancient time and space, I greedily suck the smell of fireworks, and the mottled white wall is telling the vicissitudes of history. The moss in the corner seems to tell us the story of time. The small flowers on the windowsill are quietly blooming. The sun falls from the roof ... time seems to stand still at this moment, and every time I look back, it seems like a lifetime ago. There has just been a spring rain, and there is still smoke on the roof under the sunshine. Every family has water, and every family has flowers. The farmers in the field are working hard.

This kind of picture belongs to Jiangnan alone. I don't know how much charm this misty rain has given birth to: "The small building listens to the spring rain all night, and the deep alley sells apricot flowers." "Jiangnan is good, and the scenery has been familiar ..." "Small bridges and flowing people" ... This is how the beauty of Jiangnan in Tang poetry and Song poetry lives. Such romantic thinking, such unrestrained standing on the terrace, bathed in spring breeze and sunshine, as if the body and soul had bathed and washed away all the dust of the soul. The trip to the mausoleum was so reluctant to say goodbye. We set off for the next scenic spot, Shimen Gorge. Shimen Gorge is the birthplace of Wuyuan water. There is a long stream between the canyons. Walking along the stream for about an hour, people don't feel lonely at all, because the scenery along the way is enough to make you intoxicated. The water in the stream is crystal clear, and the sand and fish in the water can be seen clearly. These fish seem to like being with us very much. When people come near, they will disperse in a hubbub. In the sun, the water is sparkling and ethereal. There are many smooth stones on the shore, and the paths along the stream are paved with stones. Walking along the stream is full of surprises. You never know what kind of scenery awaits you at the next intersection. Sometimes a silver waterfall flies straight down in front of you; Sometimes a stream in Ming Che comes slowly; Sometimes several rapids splash, accompanied by songs; It all depends on the geographical location where the stream flows. Everything is natural, without any traces of artificial carving. Birds are singing happily in my ears, and flowers are floating in the air.

The trees in the mountains are lush and the rapids are brave. Suddenly inexplicably sad, lamenting the fleeting time, the so-called fleeting time, the deceased is like a husband, not giving up day and night. Confucius sighed at the running water 2500 years ago. Why don't you agree with my sigh today? Bing Xin also wrote: Life is like a river flowing eastward, it originates from the highest place, and ice and snow are her predecessors ... At this moment, maybe all tourists will have some feelings after visiting. The change of time and the aging of life will make us cherish the scenery in front of us and everything we have. Nature is the noblest and greatest, awakening your inner love for each of our lives. The journey ends in a hurry, the happy time is always short, and everything in the journey will gradually become eternal in memory. Grateful for life, although I don't give up today, I look forward to it.

Author brief introduction Ye Yuping, a Chinese teacher in senior high school. A white woman who simply pursues the light, living in education and writing, is love.