Far away, sometimes across the balcony.

In those lonely days, it seems that only the balcony can soothe my lost heart. Walking quietly on the dusty old balcony, what you see is the extension of the vibrant green moss on the ground. Seeing those insignificant little things that make unremitting efforts for life, I think anyone who sighs like me can walk on them and breathe fresh air from another world.

Balcony, as its name implies, is the stage of sunshine. I believe that those colleagues who write wonderful sentences such as "sunshine can dance" also like to wander around the balcony-without real experience, even making up lies will be full of loopholes.

I like balconies, so I like sunshine. Looking at the white clouds in the sky trying to plug the cracks that Nu Wa didn't fill in those years, and the sunshine always swims freely on the land below the white clouds, I think I can see the proud expression of the sunshine. Perhaps, it is for this reason that rain will come to the world! Therefore, whenever it rains, I always look to the deepest part of the sky.

Bathed in the sunshine on the balcony, I like to lean in the corner and listen to the songs of the wind. The wind on the balcony comes from a distance. It may be a coastal city thousands of kilometers away or a foreign country on the other side of the Pacific Ocean. Compared with the wind on the ground, he is a knowledgeable and well-informed wandering poet; The wind on the ground, at best, is just the children in the village dragging their noses and babbling in the country.

Wandering poets are bohemian and poetic. Therefore, I like to stand on the balcony and listen to the wind singing most truly.

The wind on the balcony, sometimes learning to be a rough man, hysterically tugs at the loess high slope in the distance. In a trance, I heard the generous "Xintianyou" flying freely on the muddy loess high slope.

The wind on the balcony serenades from time to time, and the nightingale rests on the mountain branches, and the whispering voice rushes to the southeast coast. After putting the sea afraid of the dark to sleep, it ran farther with fine sand. Accompanied by the footsteps of the wind, it is the sweet words of the sleeping waves.

Listening to the snoring of the waves and counting the footprints of the wind drifting away, I gradually lost sight of the distance and the direction. White clouds finally blocked the gap in the sky, and the naughty sunshine quieted down. Everything is quiet.

In the dark, I groped step by step and found the legendary paradise. ...

It's far away. Which direction is the distance?

Sometimes, the distance is just across the balcony. Sometimes, it will be somewhere else. Sometimes, it will be far away. Sometimes, it can be very close. No direction sign in the world can point out its direction, and no ruler can measure its distance.

-Far away, in the direction of my heart.