Touched by the breeze, the young trees in the distance are jumping wildly, as if they were children scratched by others, jumping happily. Suddenly, in my hazy vision, I saw a dandelion dragging far away. The fluffy top opens like a perfect umbrella, trying to float higher and higher. Somehow, it revealed my long memory. ...
When I was young, I liked lying on the grass and looking up at the sky. At that moment of freedom, I often saw what my parents did to me: reaching for clothes and asking for food. Never worry about life, never ask about the hardships of life. This kind of life often gives me the capital to be proud in front of my classmates: anyway, my mother bought me Xtep clothes. You envy me! And whenever I look at those students who study hard, I always hint to myself: Nothing, my future is paved by my parents, so why should I worry about my future and make myself miserable? Until dandelion appeared, all this changed.
It was a Saturday night, and my mother took me for a walk in the suburbs. We walked alone on the small road in our hometown, and the flowers and plants on the roadside could not help but be moved by this scene and danced. In a serene and quiet environment, we let the breeze caress our faces and let the golden sunshine spread all over our bodies. Suddenly, a little golden ball floated towards us. Looking intently, it turned out to be a Portuguese male eagle.
"Wow, how beautiful!" I couldn't help screaming.
"Yes, son, but if it doesn't work hard, how can its own beauty be seen by us?" Mom seems to be saying this sentence meaningfully.
After listening to my mother, I bowed my head. Looking around, there is a green ocean. "It has been floating in the wind for a long time." I meditated silently. Thinking like this, I can see in my mind that it is excited to leave its parents and try to fly upward with the wind. Bit by bit, it flew over the plains, over the Woods, over the rivers and over the mountains until it appeared in the eyes of birds, in the arms of the sea and in people's minds. Isn't this the true meaning of its life?
I don't know when I had an admiration for dandelion. With the outflow of this emotion, I feel ashamed. Look at me again. I have always lived in the consciousness of my parents. Until now, I don't know how to take care of my life. I can't even match my favorite clothes, let alone wash them. I can't cook, my clothes are torn, I don't know how to mend them, and I don't know what to do if I fall! Look at yourself and think about that beautiful Portuguese Gongying. Where is the beauty of my life? I can't help asking myself this in my mind.
"Son, there is only one life, so you must cherish it. The significance of cherishing lies not in how to save lives, but in creating the true meaning and real value of life. In that way, you will show your beauty like Portuguese Gongying and surprise others! " .
Listening to my mother, I slowly raised my head and looked at my mother's smile. I understand everything. Looking at the beautiful golden figure flying farther and farther, I nodded.
A breeze blew, and I couldn't help but return to reality from my memories. Looking at the figure flying higher and higher, I couldn't help laughing. ...
Flying dandelion
When I was a child, in early summer, I often went to the hillside behind the hut with my mother. Clusters of red azaleas, yellow wintersweet and lavender petunias are blooming on the hillside ... I am happy to clap my hands and jump to pick these colorful flowers, but my mother always gently takes me to the other side of the hillside, where white flowers are blooming. Flowers are interesting: round heads and white fluff. When the wind blows, they fly lightly, fly, fly high. I had a hard time catching a small white flower flying in the air.
Mother said, "This is dandelion. It is never satisfied to stay in a remote corner. It likes to travel to the outside world. "
My mother's words left a deep impression on my young mind. At night, I often dream that I have become a white dandelion, floating in the vast world.
Soon, I went to primary school, and my mother sewed me a flower bag. There are several white dandelions embroidered on the bag, and the words "flying dandelion" are embroidered obliquely next to the flowers. Every day I am like a happy dandelion, flying around on the mountain road from the cabin to the school.
One windy evening, I ran home from school and happily dragged my mother to the hillside covered with dandelions. I sang the children's song "Dandelion Seed" just taught by my teacher to my mother. While singing, I jumped from dandelion to dandelion, and the white flowers floated gently into the sky in my song. My mother looked a little excited, her eyes were bright, and she flew away with the little white flower affectionately.
From my mother's eyes, I seem to see my usual dream at night: a white dandelion, blown by the breeze, flying over the ancient hut, the dense forest and the golden sunshine. ...
With this white dream, I was admitted to middle school. The flower schoolbag embroidered with dandelion is worn out. For several nights, my mother put the flower bag on the table and looked at it for a long time. Later, my mother looked at the oil lamp and made me a blue dress with a white dandelion embroidered on it. I wear a blue dress every day and fly around the main roads and mountain villages of the school.
A few years later, an admission notice from a distant place made my dream about dandelion more real. One evening before leaving, the wind was very strong, and my mother and I unconsciously came to the hillside behind the hut. Dandelions on the hillside fly higher than before. My eyes widened in surprise, and my mother stood not far from me with tears in her eyes. As dusk grew, my mother and I walked back silently. When I arrived at the cabin, my mother took my hand and said softly, "Son, you are a flying dandelion, but you have to fly higher."
From then on, I firmly remembered my mother's words and began to fly around the tree-lined path of the university.
A year later, I sent a poem that flew into newspapers and magazines from a tree-lined path to my mother in the mountains, and wrote a paragraph: "Mom, the delicate dandelion that flew away from you not only learned to fly, but also learned how to fly higher."
Soon, my mother wrote back with a watercolor painting: under a blue sky, it was a hillside full of white dandelions. There is a line on the painting: children in the mountains.
From this painting, I read my mother's sincere yearning-
Under the blue sky, groups of children, with bright eyes, stared blankly at the white dandelion on the hillside and sang happily: I am the seed of dandelion. ...
Isn't this what every mother in the mountains expects?
dandelion
A seed and a breeze can make a brilliant dandelion.
Dandelion is the strangest flower I have ever seen. Not so bold and unrestrained, not particularly handsome. It even blows away those fluffy things that just make people sneeze, but dandelion dancing lightly in the air is the most touching soft place.
Dandelion seeds are spread by the wind, but such a small force can thrive. It may be the only flower that can fly.
Usually dandelions just observe the world quietly and humbly in every corner. No matter who wants to take it away, it will not resist, let alone defend others with thorns and poison. This is a complete love for the world.
Dandelion also has passion. In generate, a large area of dandelions are flying in the air, like flying snowflakes and floating clouds, one by one. Is this a private visit by the immortal incognito?
The longer the wind blows, the farther dandelion flies. No matter how remote and desolate, dandelion is willing to stay there. This is selfless love for the world.
Next year, dandelions from all over the world will breed, set out separately and float to further places. This is a great love for the world.
It is such endless dedication that floats in the sky like that, no matter whether the eyes of the world are on them or not, they only go to every corner and keep their roots.
Quiet waiting, free and easy flying, happy-go-lucky, carefree life, dandelion is like a fire under an iceberg, its appearance is cold and aloof, and its heart is full of blood
As long as there is a gust of wind, dandelions will put down their seeds and follow them. No matter where future generations go, they will not design roads for future generations, give them wings and let them fly.
A gust of wind, a seed, a brilliant dandelion.
Don't smell dandelion, just give it a little breeze and let it fly freely.