Celia R Mueller
Bio
Read a million books, travel a million miles
Stories (51/0)
Give up is to get better
Chen Gang once said "life, like a palm of water; life, like a handful of sand. If, do not know how to give up, then, the water will turn into a sour tear; the sand will also become a lonely desolation. On the contrary, the water will be a clear spring, nourishing the dry life, and the sand will converge into a vast sea, shining dazzling light." Giving up is not a timid choice, nor is it a helpless abandonment; it is a wisdom of life, an effort to live better.
By Celia R Mueller2 years ago in Fiction
When grass meets spring, how much do you know about flowers?
I saw a woman write about magnolia, so I thought: I have magnolia flowers here, I do not know if they have opened. Many days have not traveled, and no spring news, suddenly, want to go to explore the spring! I was so eager for the spring colors that I decided to go without any hesitation; that afternoon, I couldn't wait to go on a date with my girlfriends.
By Celia R Mueller2 years ago in Fiction
The shallow edge of the edge is deep
Always deep love, but the edge is shallow, but never changes the original intention. Spring came to us, with her slender catkins sowing thousands of hopes. The breeze gets the bamboo willow, the Qiang flute has not played, and the song has been looking at the sky. The world only knows: the shadow of the wind fragrance, cold moon slender; dance sleeves brushed catkin, smoke lock lake dust. The three points of the spring breeze, who opened the mud ancient unchanging cold?
By Celia R Mueller2 years ago in Fiction
Rundown
Run, moisten, moisten ...... words made up of the word run, all give a slow gesture, like a spring breeze blowing slowly. Another example: Run down (rain to nourish everything), Run rain (nourished by the rain), Run change (nourishing connotation) Run nourish (nourishing) ...... which word is as soft as "with the wind into the night, moisten things silent". The word has long been moistened into my heart.
By Celia R Mueller2 years ago in Fiction
Enjoy the painting
It was nearly dusk, the sky was slowly darkening, it had just rained, the weather was not bad, there was already the chill of early autumn, the wind was blowing, and the leaves on both sides were still dripping with newly fallen water droplets, occasionally two flying birds flew through the air, their long wings crossed the silent sky, the wind had taken away the moisture left by the rain.
By Celia R Mueller2 years ago in Fiction
Talking about friends
(I) Today is the era of high-speed development of the Internet, no matter where we go, there is a network, which brings great convenience to people's life and works, but also brings a lot of trouble and helplessness. Walk anywhere, whether it is the young people in a hurry leisurely middle-aged and elderly, or even junior high school older brothers and sisters, on the road, on the bus, on the subway, or at the dinner table ...... you can see them mostly doing the same thing: playing with cell phones. As if everything outside has nothing to do with them, their attention is completely on the phone, as if the phone is their inseparable "friend". I don't know if the old saying, "you can't lose the opportunity", is the scenario of people playing with their phones nowadays!
By Celia R Mueller2 years ago in Fiction
Time to Cook Rain
The summer of Dingxi, without warning, will come to a said rain on the rain. The rain has not yet cleared the sky, holding an old umbrella, hurrying, back and forth. The rain under the feet wet shoes. In fact, like this, there are many days out in the rain. In my memory, when I was herding sheep in my childhood, I wore a pair of plastic sandals, and in the mountains and fields covered with thorns and weeds, I would go barefoot and drive the sheep to eat grass because I cherished my sandals. There are many past events like this. Rain is hazy imagery. The song "A Little Rain in March" speaks of an endless strain of idle sorrow, and now that I think about it, only the soil of Taiwan can produce that kind of mood.
By Celia R Mueller2 years ago in Fiction