The new journey has embarked on the journey as scheduled, and my heart is still in a trance, wandering. In the sadness of the season, the difficulties of the laughing years, and the ups and downs of the time, there are joys and sorrows. The wind and frost of the years stumbled my steps forward, and when I looked back, I shook off my thoughts. The fragmented thoughts are filled with the memories of the years, which are joys and sorrows, and the memories are full of the sorrows and sorrows of life. The joys and sorrows of life are understood by time.

Time is like water, and the fragrance passes. The dust is rising and floating, the once splendid is like a dream of smoke in a blink of an eye, light like flying smoke, and everything is beautiful at a loss, like a dream; Like a smoke, like a dream; Drift away. can't let go, just let it quietly hide in the depths of the years. Because of the years, the past will be precipitated; Over the years, there will be mottled memories. The warmth of that thought, lightly describing the poetic and dreamy old times, passed away quietly. The ordinary day is breezy and there is a trace of ripples.

The long river of years, the passing of the past from the fingertips, deeply nostalgic for yesterday's time. Fragments of memory, time flies; Facing it indifferently, the annual rings are in a hurry. Lonely and prosperous, overflowing with graceful and graceful feelings. Who is sad, who is happy, the years that have passed, who has affectionately written the fragrant Fei full of notes, and the ink is resentful. Life is bright because of the years. The years, because of the light but quiet beauty.

In the afternoon, lazily leaning in front of the window, the warm sunlight shines on the body through the glass, so that every cell feels and sucks the taste of the sun. Inadvertently, it is a sunny spring in March, and the spring of the city I live in is always late, and it is still in a state of coldness, and I can't see the slight greenery that seems to be absent, and the air is overflowing with warmth in the faint charm. Downstairs, children play in the garden, and the sun shines as brightly as they do. The room is filled with the fragrance of camellias, and it is rare to steal a leisure, enjoy the sunshine, and gradually relax and relax in the cup.

In the hustle and bustle of the world, I hurried back and forth, settled a mixed heart, and the wind and frost of the years left a clear and shallow background on my body. Time is easy to grow old, and the sound of flow is getting farther and farther away. Looking forward to the branches of the new green enchanting years, the eyebrows of a tree and a bright season, listening to those branches and vines, flowers and plants tell the quiet of time.

The past is like yesterday, it has been stuck in the mind, but it seems that it is still far from being revealed, those young and ignorant days, those glamorous years are gradually gone, and we can only salvage those past curled up in the folds in the river of memory. Those bewitching dew, those attachment expectations, can only be delivered to time, ups and downs in memory, precipitation. All experiences are a touch of fragrance left by time to the years.

The alternation of time, the change of seasons is always ruthlessly changed a lot, left a lot, and I am a person who likes nostalgia, and always loves to piece together some of the past years in the fragments of memory. Reminiscing, sighing at the graceful time that fell into the gap of time.

When the wind and frost of the years swallowed up the face, when the wind and dust of the years disappeared the light footsteps...... Life can't be lived from the beginning, no matter where the time goes, cherish what you have, time is constantly turning, go through the years of all kinds of styles, and know how to pick up warmth in the ruthless length of falling flowers and flowing water. After going through thousands of mountains and rivers, I know how to stick to innocence in the wind and rain. Walk across the other side and return to tranquility.

Set off with a spring breeze, sunshine and a smile, be a quiet person, live a slower life, have no quarrel with the world, and simply live this life. The mountains are majestic, the rivers are clear, the sky is blue, and the flowers and plants are luxuriant. There is goodwill, there is trust, there is reunion, there is companionship. All the trekking, all the expectations, will bloom quietly in the years, a story, a memory, is still my distance. Quiet to the years, promise the gentleness of the next life.