After the cherry blossoms

After the cherry blossoms fell, I could not afford to see the flowers any more. Late April, the end of spring. From the initial flowering sprout to bloom, a lot of flowers are written in a spring. In the depths of spring, the large clusters of flowers are better than the wildflowers found by the roadside. The exuberant vitality of wildflowers, in the suburban wind, facing the rain and dew of the sun and moon, vigorous and proud to open. Do not provoke spring breeze, do not surprise passers-by. Prefer those who are not good at drilling, let it be spontaneous and natural. Deliberate things, may be clever, but always feel unattractive. On that day he came to the peach garden and passed through the pear flower field. Deep sigh, so beautiful. Bathing in the flowers, playing in the flowers, is joyful, but also happy. For pink pear white, is light joy, like the eye. But the wildflowers I met recently are lonely and determined. One is fun, one is independent. Simply fell in love with this legacy and independent posture, do not ask, do not contend for beauty, do not make spring, do not deliberately. Is that kind of persistence, in their own feelings, write their own. Friendship. For them, it is deep love, deep love. The spring is deep and the flowers are tired. Landing, reborn. Between shallow joy and deep love, are flowers. I am afraid that I am tired to see the heart of flowers, and have nothing to send. Shallow joy will be pleasing to the eye, deep love will run the heart, but people can not mention flowers tired. Look at the two hate, originally is a pretence of beauty, and do not want to spend years relative. It's like love. Light love, from amazing to hate, may not be enough time for a flower. Classic love is the snow lotus on the iceberg cultivated by years of care. I don't know, is seeing the beauty of flowers, just gave birth to fatigue. Or originally for these short flowering period, no expectations. Therefore, there is no beginning and no end. Pale heart, full of a person's Qinghuan. Such beautiful flowers, will make life tired. We mortals in the world, often relative, how can long without the heart of boredom?He has had the habit and hobby of raising pigeons for many years. He works alone at a food station in the country. He built a shelter on the roof of his house where he kept the pigeons' food. There's corn, soybeans, wheat, and special pigeon feed. Carefully counted down, he has been raising pigeons for more than 20 years. He especially likes pigeons, white, grey, blue and so on. His wife was a country girl. The dove became their matchmaker. That day she went to a blind date, and when she saw him raising so many pigeons, she felt that the man in front of her must have love, and she would not be wrong to marry him. And she married him. Working at a food station, he works with pigs every day. Collect and sell pigs and be responsible for their profits and losses. Many farmers have difficulty raising pigs and selling them. At that time, he rented a motor boat to collect pigs by the river. The farmers on both sides of the river know that he comes to collect pigs, and everyone will sell them to him, the price is moderate, and the old do not coax the little do not deceive. In addition to raising pigs, he keeps more than 300 pigeons. Every morning, before the sun came up, he went to the roof and looked at the lovely pigeons. The sound of pigeons, very kind, very warm. One day, he received a letter from the pigeon association, saying that there would be a pigeon competition, starting from his hometown in Hechuan, Chongqing, and flying to Lanzhou, with a lot of prizes. He tried his hand at pigeon racing. Thousands of kilometers? I don't know if my pigeons are capable? Pigeon keepers are heading to Lanzhou to wait for the results. He was waiting for his pigeon to arrive first. Oh, my God, it's a miracle. How did this pigeon know this direction after traveling all over the world? He was puzzled in his heart.