As the saying goes, "There is heaven above and Suzhou and Hangzhou below." I am very lucky. I grew up in Suzhou, a beautiful and full of aura. My hometown Xishan is a paradise in heaven. Autumn in my hometown, like a colorful oil painting, unfolds slowly before my eyes. The colors are so bright and the lines are so smooth. And the charm flowing in it, how intoxicated I am.
Autumn in my hometown is the harvest season, look! Large tracts of golden rice, shining yellow in the sun, almost hit my eyes. Under the breeze, heavy ears of rice are like waves, one after another, which is really beautiful. The orange trees all over the mountain are covered with heavy fruits, which bend the branches. Golden oranges are more gorgeous against the green leaves, which makes people drool. I can't wait to have a bite. The specialty of my hometown is not only oranges, but also ginkgo and chestnut, which are very famous at home and abroad.
Autumn in my hometown is a beautiful season. Autumn is crisp and sunny. Standing on the hillside and looking up, it is a blue sky; Looking around, it is a beautiful and exquisite Xishan; Overlooking the foot, there is the endless Taihu Lake, which is really eye-opening and refreshing. The grass on the hillside has withered and yellow, as if to put a golden coat on the mountain; At this time, the red leaves are the most lush. They are full of passion and energy. They seem to be burning, which is really icing on the cake. The winding path is full of golden Ao Shuang autumn chrysanthemums, which adds vitality to this mountain.
The night in my hometown is quiet. Autumn in October, sweet-scented osmanthus fragrance. The bright moon in the sky reminds me of the poem "I miss my relatives twice during the festive season". When I think of many friends who are away from home, I will definitely be like me. Every time I go home, I will take a walk in the country road, touch the curved bridge and kiss the long river. How comfortable it feels!
Ah! Autumn in my hometown is full of fruit fragrance, poetry and deep attachment. How can all this not make me intoxicated!
On lyrical prose about scenery Part II: Familiar places also have scenery.
The morning breeze blows gently, and the branches show dew. Ah, another foggy day. The fog in my hometown is not so thick and beautiful as the fog in Emei Mountain, nor so strange and unpredictable as the fog in Huangshan Mountain, but what I appreciate most is the fog in my hometown.
My hometown is at the foot of Huiji Mountain, among the mountains. There are many mountains. The fog here has its unique charm.
The fog in my hometown is beautiful and simple. Is it as white as Xue Rui? It didn't. The white is slightly gray and the white is blue, which is much better than the white snow. Yes, the dense fog sleeps between the green hills and the beautiful waters, drawing the aura of vegetation in the mountains. Don't dress up more beautifully? This kind of white fog is only found in the countryside, and it is difficult for any painter to adjust it. The fog in my hometown is natural and sincere. I really want to hold it in my hand, even in my arms, dye it on drawing paper and enjoy it from time to time.
The fog in my hometown is deep and pure, not as oily as the fog in the city. It's cute. Although pedestrians can only hear voices a few steps apart, they can't see people. Breathe a little fog and be cool. We went to school with books on our backs, and the fog floated on my forehead and kissed me. I can't avoid it. This affectionate woman, have you exaggerated your enthusiasm and hospitality? Looking around, it's foggy. Maybe some people will feel depressed and can't see the rolling peaks and lush bamboo, but I don't care.
The dense fog is changing, turning into a cool breeze for a while, and turning into a small dewdrop for a while, sticking to my hair tips and eyelashes. I close my eyes gently, and the cool feeling makes people relaxed and happy. After the baptism of fog, there seems to be tears in my eyes.
The fog in my hometown is so soft. As tough as white clouds, the scissors keep pulling. Gently spread it on the grass. The grass really loves Sister Wu and sucks the sweet juice heartily.
The sun rises and the fog dissipates. A red sun hung high in the air, and mountains, peaks and trees gradually appeared in outline. The mountains and rivers washed by fog are full of vitality. The dying dead wood seems to be nourished and has a free and easy life.
The fog in my hometown is kind and warm. I love the fog in my hometown. It's really memorable.
On the lyric prose of scenery writing III: Spring breeze
Spring, diligent in blooming, is the season when countless small creatures in the world actively bloom under the blessing of spring breeze. That spring breeze nourishes the earth, scatters hope, upgrades to the onion forest, takes it to the wilderness and sends it to the stream. But now I'm getting tired of it. I can't see spring.
Become a middle school student who has gradually stepped into the society, lost in the sea of books, divorced from freshness and nature, and slackened his awareness of spring. Only stay at home, even get lost in the realism outside nature, sink into the vast sea of people, be lazy to go out and relax, and realize the reality.
The spring breeze floated over my bedding and touched my pages. The sun suddenly poured in and my room suddenly brightened up. Outside the window, it is a novel "Dream of Spring", which gradually fills my vision. I opened my eyes wide and enjoyed the freshness of light green and reddish. Ah, it's a spring breeze, how disdainful you are to bloom in front of my eyes. But I have to be busy with the heavy sea of questions, and I can only take in the narrow spring at this window.
On this day, under the persuasion of the spring breeze, my sister finally dragged me out of my busy study and merged into the beautiful spring scenery. I shine at the moment, and the spring breeze is like a continuous quilt, embracing me and attracting me. I am also intoxicated in the coolness, which is so warm that people can't resist it, only this spring has been preserved.
Me, let me not feel lonely.
I was presumptuous and threw away all the setbacks and heavy burdens. When my sister is free in the wilderness, it is like a pair of wings of hope flying in the blue sea and blue sky. That is the so-called hope, how many chapters are praised by poetry and fu, and spring is sung. Let me run from the lifeless struggle to the unintentional vitality, what a precious run it will be.
Even though my sister and I have a stubborn gap in age and values, I have integrated this childlike yearning for spring with her. Caught the caterpillar, fed the hare, jumped into the Woods, jumped into the stream. The spring breeze fascinated me and dragged me to the countryside outside this busy road. I was caught by her.
Deeply conquered. Although I resent this unintentional spring breeze, I am more grateful.
Even after that, the spring breeze can no longer shake my stubborn heart, but I still deeply remember this year's season of "Spring Breeze and Green Jiang Nanan", the surprise and pleasure brought by the spring breeze, and the running with my sister in the new idea of spring. Thank you, that unintentional spring breeze!