During the morning

In winter in the south, there is no snow. It's so warm that swallows are willing to fly. The sun in winter is like a child's tender little hands, and people love and pity them.

Winter is coming too early this year or the swallows are coming too late. For a long time could not see the arrival of the small elves. Make me always complain wrong this autumn is too cold, too sad lonely.

I sat in the classroom and looked straight out of the window, not for the arrival of the swallows, not for the appearance of the sun, and even I did not know what I was looking at. Just aimlessly looking at the sky, looking at the cloudless sky. That day, it was very empty. It's cloudy, it makes people feel very cold, and the heart is empty.

I turned my eyes from the sky to the pine tree outside the window, it is always so lush, always so lush, the leaves will not turn yellow, will not fall. There was no wind outside the window, for the needles on the pine trees did not quiver, but it was cold, cold to the bone. Maybe it's because I want to be extremely beautiful and only wear two clothes.

In an instant, the rain came out of the window, beating gently against the window glass. Soon the outside of the window was wet, and the inside was covered with a thin layer of steam. Touch the glass with your hand, feel the extremely low temperature rain outside the window in the fluttering, flying, beating the yellow mud in the ground.

During the morning exercise, I walked out of the classroom, like everyone else, on the campus, between the playground. At that time, I found that there was a kapok tree that had already fallen more than half of its leaves standing quietly beside, I could not help but stop my steps and spread there. There is no wind, but the leaves still fall "there is no wind, there is no wind, there is no wind, there is no wind." At that moment, I was inspired to take a pen out of my pocket and write these words on my arm. Written in red ink, so conspicuous, so dazzling, is the red ink so dazzling.

I turned to go back, accidentally saw a osmanthus tree hanging a small string of osmanthus flowers. "The fragrance of osmanthus flowers is far away in August." I put my nose forward. No scent, beige beige. But it opened in the winter after all, that should be how much effort to show in the winter beautiful ah! It does not have the same fragrance as the osmanthus flower in August, but it has the same pride as the plum blossom in winter. It is not as pure white as snow, but it has the courage to show in the winter.

In addition to the osmanthus alone, there is another plum blossom to be put. The pink petals are tightly closed, waiting for the arrival of the twelfth month, so that it can show beautiful appearance. It is so close that it must wait until the coldest part of winter to open. The more cold, the more vigorous, the more beautiful, so that I can not not admire its proud, pure.

Winter, a season that I both love and fear. Love, love those proud flowers, resolute ambition; Afraid, afraid of the cold in winter, make my heart sad lonely, heart sad.