Man is a nostalgic animal, perhaps because of this, I am always in the busy city, under the colorful neon lights, recall the childhood scene over and over again, I still remember that the four seasons were colorful at that time.
When spring comes, the freshly thawed river, the budding wicker, everything is full of vitality in the silent winter land, just like proclaiming the tenacity and indomitable life, a little green means to breathe the breath of spring in the genial sun. We take kites to fly in early spring, looking up at the blue sky, throwing our young dreams and joy into the sky. The spring day in my memory is green and gentle.
Summer is a hot season. The sun in the day is like a beam of eternal light, violent and domineering through the sky, dazzling and hot, shrouding everything. Colorful flowers and rustling trees stand silently in the hot sun. Occasionally a hot wind blows, bringing noisy cicadas and clattering leaves. Whenever the evening comes, the wind is cool, bringing the fragrance of flowers refreshing, and the insects around make the summer night much more vivid. The memory of summer is fragrant and colorful.
Although autumn is not as green as spring or flowers in summer, it has the beauty of stillness. A close view of the fruitful branches of a variety of fruit exudes an attractive luster, from a distance, the maple trees all over the mountains are as warm and brilliant as flowers, accompanied by sometimes burning clouds, like a fire all over the world, magnificent. In memory, autumn is red, as warm as the joy after a bumper harvest.
The winter night came ahead of schedule, people slept in the warm house, but outside it was quietly flying goose feathers and heavy snow. When I opened the door the next day, there was a world wrapped in white, cold but white. Occasionally the sun shines on the snow, reflecting a crystal-like transparent and clear world. In memory, winter is white, pure white.
Time is a thief, always inadvertently steal a lot, beautiful years, green time, including the colorful four seasons in my memory.
My childhood is now so far away from me, and I am now an adult. I leave home to study and occasionally return to my hometown, but I find that fewer people fly kites in spring, more people wear masks all the year round, and there seems to be no boundary between summer and autumn. the sun is no longer purely hot, but muggy, the earth is like being wrapped in a steamer, day after day, year after year winter is no longer goose feather snow, occasionally snowflakes It is also quickly melted into water by the ground. Looking up at the sky, haze all over the sky, the fumes emitted crazily on the road make the four seasons no longer colorful, so that the four seasons have no obvious boundaries. In the busy city, we are blinded by the hustle and bustle and the bright lights. Perhaps people have forgotten the colors of the four seasons. I am sometimes very glad that I still have memories of my childhood. I still remember the beautiful seasons, the green mountains and rivers, and the blue sky. We have had them. I hope future generations can also have such four seasons. Do not let their four seasons become eternal gray, let their childhood be submerged by pollution and haze, and work together to give future generations a colorful four seasons.
Author: the end of time
Post a comment