Heard the sound of flowers blossoming

I do not believe that the sound of flowering plants will be eavesdropped by human ears, and most of the beautiful lies I see in books on daily life are just that, because of material desire and the lack of beauty in this world. So artists are always trying to sell their aesthetic ideas in a different way.

The flowers are there, not angry, not angry, not smiling, they are the most reasonable works of art in nature. People have their own words, flowers have their own words, they bloom their own flowers, just as human beings go their own way, drink their own wine, greedy for their own money, they have their own time and rules.

But that day, in the middle of the night, I was traveling with my son, at the pond, when everything was silent, there was no sound around, the water stopped, because the pond is a pool of stagnant water, the sound of the beating heart is isolated in the body, one can not feel the sound of another heartbeat, my son suddenly terrified, turned and asked me: I heard the sound of flowers beeping open.

Lies. I pulled my son, he was attacking my theory, I just tried to provoke him, he turned and pulled me, stopped in front of the begonia flowers.

Calm my mind and stop breathing, my son prompted me to respond to the blooming of a flower with such logic, and I did. Though I had a bad heart, though I was sweating, though the flowers on my head had fallen, though sometimes I shouted at him to follow the course I had plotted, now I preferred to trust the teachings of the other man beside me.

Sure enough, a sound came quietly, "click" a sound, the sound of begonia flowers suddenly opening to stimulate my traditional argument for many years, my son excitedly nodded to me and demonstrated, as if he had become a flower about to open.

The opening of the flowers is not continuous, they may be afraid of someone destroying its growth mood, more or fear of human running around, and will throw their own voice in the cloud nine, so it is very careful when moving the body, lest someone disturb its good dream, it produced a sound, my son and I will resonate in the deepest part of the heart.

That night, the moon was bright and the stars were thin, and our two generations listened to the opening of a flower without emotion, which did not need to be covered up, nor did it need powder ink, which was not a drop under the pen of a writer, nor an ornament in the heart of an artist, but a fixed opening in accordance with its own time, which was only occasionally found by two people whose eyes were covered with dust on weekdays.

It turns out that there is the sound of flowers in the world, the simplest and most simple beauty in the world is hidden in their own side, the flower is a twinkle in the world, is the most wonderful footnote in the plant world, is the wind, is the wave, is the moon set, is the worm smile.

Such beauty as flowers always exist in our side, but we are deaf and blind, the heart is like boiling water, how can we understand the eternal life.

People in distress, always get the most beautiful help in the world, always feel the warmth and love that is difficult to perceive on weekdays, in addition to the compassion of the world, I think that most people in distress are full of kindness, kindness is contagious, just like two tired people heard the sound of flowers in the moonlight, inadvertently found the sound of nature in the soul.

The voice of flowers is the most beautiful healing medicine in the world, the tonic soup for the lovelorn, and the placebo for the failure.

Ralph Waldo Emerson said, "He who can listen to the birds really owns the world." Bird calls, flower language is a beautiful gift of nature, flower language seems to be lower than bird calls, quiet, it seems to be a deeper test of human perseverance and quality, if you are not low-key, full of distractions, there will be no late night to rush to a classic date with flowers, you can not get a fragrant kiss with a flower.

Lifetime, I heard the voice of flowers, but also let a flower feel my existence, I am not a saint, but I can also forget two things.