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Spring in Nanning

Spring cold material cliff flower garden,

Thousands of purples and thousands of reds are delicate. Pen | fun | pavilion www. ｂｉｑｕｇｅ。 ｉｎｆｏ

I want to collect clouds and persuade smoke,

Looking back at Jin Yanghuan's eyes.

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Spring in Nanning is colorful and gloomy.

The kapok on Baisha Avenue is in full bloom. Along the way, it was like a flaming red lantern. When it comes to sunny days, it is naturally beautiful.

How many lowered eyebrows looked over, it was the yellow wind chimes that were blooming with a delicate figure.

In this yellow curtain, the purple purple gold flower also worked extra hard to win a place.

And the fluffy, red hydrangeas are not far behind, and seem to be doing their best to hold on to their territory.

Every time I drive by, I want to stop and take a look at this purple and red, and smell the sweetness, but I can't.

A few days later, I walked by again and found that the red hydrangea had gone by itself, so I put away my bags and left. And the white oleander rushed out recklessly, it was really you singing and I appeared, showing their skills, lest they fall behind.

The spring in Nanning is charmed by these thousands of colors, and it is said that the triangular plum on the Qinghuan Road has also bloomed in full swing, red like the fire clouds of the grassland in the evening.

In this spring day of a hundred flowers, how good would it be if there was no gloom that could not be driven away every day? Unfortunately, everything is not going well, so don't care about it.

The most Taoist March day in the world!

In the morning, it was still rainy and foggy, and there was moisture everywhere, and it was wet and sticking to people's hair.

Then, the sky, which seemed to be clear in the morning, suddenly fell under the pressure of darkness, and in the blink of an eye, the heavy rain poured down, which caught people off guard and completely lost hope.

However, the free and easy rainstorm is still excellent. At least get rid of the endless rain, which makes people feel vividly refreshed.

The heavy rain washed away the wet haze, and the gray sky slowly became clearer.

The sun was shining brightly into the house when it was caught off guard, and the rain on the trees outside the window was still ticking, shining in the sunlight.

I stretched my sedentary waist, got up and walked to the window, looking at the long-lost sunshine, and my mood brightened.

Every time it rains during the Qingming Festival, it is the day of mourning together in heaven and earth, the same remembrance, the same thoughts, and the same sadness, right? Otherwise, why are the heavens crying every day?