In July, the sun was like fire and the heat was warm, releasing its long-standing enthusiasm. All the light and heat enveloped the earth. Perhaps God's child accidentally slipped the matchstick in his hand and ignited all the passion of this season. The sky is blue and pure, and the flames are blazing.
Lush forest shade is dotted with summer shyness.
On the golden beach on the blue sea, the urchin wears a red Chinese-style chest covering, barefoot, shovels with little ass and a small plastic bucket, scoops water and digs sand, and enjoys the game. The head on the sea is shaking, and everyone is feeling the coolness of the sea selflessly.
This season, the flowers are delicate and charming, and the lotus is half shy; Pure and fragrant jasmine; ? The green in summer covers your eyes. Is this bonus full? Ziwei is simple, fragrant, pure and romantic. Many coquettish people don't know who wrote some exquisite poems on the note.
Thunder rumbles, raindrops the size of copper coins, and the sky is like a spillway, venting its anger angrily. A series of lightning, split the magic, cut through the sky, and the rapid rain drowned the arrogant flame. After the thunder faded away, the window opened and the ground was full of fragrance. The grass is green and fragrant, and the sun shines on the rain beads on the tip of the grass, glittering and translucent.
The chirping of cicadas and crickets makes the summer night quiet and natural, and the gentle evening breeze brings unspeakable comfort and coolness through the window. Sweet lovers are walking under the streetlights and whispering beside the flower beds. Under the weeping willows on the playground, it is quiet and cool, with a pool of water and a cool white light in the moonlight.
July is a raging fire, a romantic love song, a free and easy July, and a happy July. There are too many memories in July, bearing those innocent and broken dreams when I was a child. In those years, I always fantasized about when I could have a full watermelon meal. Over the years, I have always had a round beer belly, had a barbecue, poured cups of draft beer into my stomach crazily, then burped loudly and had another drink.
It's sunny tonight, so don't get drunk tonight.
Lying quietly at the foot of the tree-lined mountain, listening to the sound of the mountain spring rushing, watching the cows chewing the tender grass leisurely in the mountain, holding an algebra textbook in their hands, and playing the flute when bored. This is the summer vacation of junior high school. At that time, I always thought that when I grew up, I must go out of the mountains and live in the city. Now I always miss the years under the trees.
Sweating heroic struggle, endless climbing pursuit, let all the passion and sweat of youth be released in this season belonging to the younger generation, just like a bottle of Sprite with its cap opened after being violently shaken. Penetrating sweat can't be said to be comfortable, but it's better than feeling stuffy and sticky. After sweating like rain, enjoying the charming sea and beach and trying to harvest what you deserve is called life, and it is an artistic conception and a pursuit, not a happy life.
Huge sandy watermelon, sweet and sour grapes, flame-like pulp, but cool and thirst-quenching, ugly grapes, but sweet and sour.
Perhaps, watermelon is suitable for this season, and the scientific name of watermelon in greenhouse is good, but it always doesn't taste like this.
I like the unrestrained July, the unreserved frankness in July, and the hottest purity in July.
July is the intersection of all stories.
If it rains in July, the time is quiet and light green. After all, it's hard to hear the rain and messy hometown. However, if it rains in July, I will think about the injury, return the time, and the silence will be fleeting. Notes before the text of a book or after the title of an article.
The sky in July is still so blue. Coincidentally, in the summer afternoon, a rain bar grows affectionately, or the sound of rain resounds through the whole city all night.
In the New Year, with the streamers, innocent dreams are growing, just like the feelings of an ancient well, rippling around, still scattered in the past. Years are like sand, and the finely divided fingertips turn into rough cocoons in time, just like eyes in the wind, watching the bitterness of the world.
If it rains in July, the delicate warmth, warm airflow and wind will break the watch of the season like a dream. who is it? On a sunset evening, the hand blows the strings, and the graceful and moist notes seem to be picked up again.
The sound of rain, through the world of mortals, overflowed the end of the years, and dedicated his life to gentleness with an inexplicable gesture.
I used to think that in this silent July, I couldn't have the smiling face of flowers. I just wanted to collect rainwater, cut off the watch of the fleeting time, and with a feeling of belonging to the end of summer, I looked down at the time and meditated on the hesitation of my hometown, which was already painful. It's just that summer is getting thicker, and what remains is still a fragmentary past.
The red leaves that move according to the evening breeze, through the wall, make the wind gentle. Too much sadness and concern only leave time and space at the moment of parting, and turn into thousands of sorrows in the eyes of the wind.
On the deserted street, pedestrians can be seen vaguely. It is just a blue slate marked by the smoke of the years. In such a season, it looks unhappy, hiding the residual pain in the arms of the rain, but just don't want to be seen. He was tearful, letting things change, and looked down on those years of joys and sorrows.
If it rains in July, on a summer night, a cup of fragrant tea and a blank sheet of paper continue to write trivial things. If the rose kissed the water at the other end of the bridge, the slender tentacles had lasted enough time.
The smoke is foggy, the most touching afternoon, drifting with the wind, seeing the end of the cloud, rain pouring down, mottled hometown is sad. After the rain, the sky in the south began to clear up, only Swift crooned, and my hometown was deserted for the New Year. Or, on a rainy night, a train sped by, cutting through the silent sky, leaving a bleak impression. Just, July filariasis, summer flowers dream, but who ever thought of fine and gentle, as before!
If it rains in July, in a quiet and beautiful time, it will turn brilliance into a smile and sorrow for the rain into a sigh. If you fall into China and die, it is yellow and late autumn.
Time is like a poem, walking in the late summer. If it rains in July, I only think about that quiet time.
In July, he Xiang made an unwritten agreement with the text, at least, he would write a related text every month. If you break your word, you will always feel something outstanding in your heart, and you will feel guilty and uneasy.
In July, it's already halfway through. The boat of time is floating, and another year is drifting away. If the twilight is magnificent and fleeting, it will be thrown into the deep sea floor.
This summer is unusually cool. The breeze is blowing gently, and the autumn is crisp. The wind is very soft. Rain, like a parting lover, lingers.
Sunshine has changed its fiery and enthusiastic character in previous years, and it has become more reserved and graceful. Even in the afternoon, it won't sweat like a steamer. Clouds are no longer all white and soft. Thin, gray, occasionally or cloudy. Sunshine, like a beauty who passed through ancient times, still holds a basket of Shimada Hanzo from time to time.
Get up early, leisurely, and stroll in the depths of the green path. Slight breeze, with the fragrance of flowers and plants, and wet dew, refreshing, refreshing. Clear hair, fluttering skirts, green on the face, lotus flowers standing, birds singing cicadas, frogs falling, beautiful as a fairyland.
If, in the afternoon, I am lucky enough to meet a drizzle floating from the horizon, passing through the hazy rain and fog, the mountains are falling, the water is boundless, the people are sparse, and the breeze kisses me, I will enjoy the scenery at the window and feel a poetic softness in my heart!
Twilight, community square, singing and dancing. The aunts and sisters are sweating like rain, and they are crazy in the cadence square dance. It suddenly occurred to me that the Chinese aunt who danced square dance on TV recently went abroad. It is reported that a Chinese aunt was dancing in a square in new york. After being warned twice by the police for playing a recording too loudly, she was taken away in handcuffs. I sincerely admire this Chinese aunt's love and persistence in square dance, and I can't help but give her thumbs up and praise her. In recent years, the popularity of square dance is very dark, from the poetry in the south of the Yangtze River to the glaciers in the north, from the noisy city to the beautiful countryside. As long as you are willing to go out of the house, in the streets and lanes, in the fields, in pieces, in piles, in groups, elegant and beautiful Chinese aunts are twisting their slender waist almost crazily, with an overwhelming momentum, like a rough sea.
I can't stand the encouragement of my friends. That day, following the rhyme of the sunset, I also joined the square dance. Despite my friends' patient advice, I still don't know what to do. I'm in a hurry. Although there were footsteps, I forgot to do it manually, so it goes without saying that I was embarrassed and helpless. Dancing that seems easy to learn is difficult for me. Swing from side to side, but you can't step on it. Watching a friend spin like a swallow makes me envy. After all, I can't dance well, and I can't dance that charming dance, so I have to lose in a big mess.
The lazier I am, the more I like this quiet house life. A person, staying in a quiet and lonely room in a corner, lazily leaning on the soft sofa, with a cup of boiling water on the coffee table, curling or cool; A book, put it at hand, or the ink is dense, or the agarwood is yellowish. Occasionally squinting, it seems that I can't sleep, some are gentle and some are blurred; Occasionally, I looked up, looked through the dimly swaying bamboo shadows on the glass sliding door, and landed on the green and delicate flowers and plants on the balcony. At this time, the soft heart will bloom like a ripple of surprise and happiness.
I don't know when or why, but all of a sudden, I lost my previous desire to write.
I want to come, last year or the year before, or even further, the year before. Also, this July day, just, the July day at that time, should be another matter. The scorching sun, the earth like an iron furnace, the scorching sun inadvertently fell on my body, and my skin smelled of smoke pain and burnt fur.
At noon, people hide in comfortable air-conditioned rooms early. Lying on a cool and comfortable bamboo mat, or staring at the screen of a mobile phone or sleeping peacefully at the invitation of Duke Zhou. It is also the time to enjoy the sweet happiness of life, but I am alone in the shop without air conditioning, in front of the computer, in the flowing melody, concentrating on knocking out warm squares. In the street, people who walk in bits and pieces cover the road with umbrellas, and people who walk in bits and pieces cover their flaming cheeks with umbrellas and hurry. The floor fan around me is spinning around the clock, screaming in a hoarse voice, and the blades that keep spinning around the shaft are emitting a faint yellow light, and the hot face is coming. These can't affect my enthusiasm for typing at all. With the murmuring melody, my thoughts come in droves, such as the green that stretches around, leaving fragrance between my fingers.
Now that I think about it carefully, I wonder why there was such a high passion and desire to write at that time, and a new book was about to be published in three or four days. I just want to write, I really want to write! I think I have a lot to write. People around me, things they saw and heard, and messy feelings and feelings all gave pens and crawled on plain paper. That's enough to sweat. Mosquitoes bite insects. Netizen playing with the cloud: a prolific writer.
Either because I am a person who does things from beginning to end, or because of my mood, I lost the idea of writing for no reason. Many times, I clearly have a draft in my heart, but I don't want to write. I put it off again and again and finally died. Self-knowledge, thin pen and shallow ink, only sparse knowledge, can not become a climate, however, natural self-pity character, but let me not give up my persistence and love for words.
Or the bright moon at that time, the sky at that time. The time of crossing the small town seems very lofty, always dismissive of me, like a shadow passing by without a trace. Looking back, it was also July. Soft time, misty, crossed out.
Time, passing; Hua is old. Pull up your fingers and count the years. One, two, three, four, five is too late to quit, and the road to life is faintly visible. Sad! Alas!
Who can tell me where I can find who stole my time? Where should I pick up the memories left by the old days?
Living is a state of mind. Have a good attitude, but also need to have a good mood to pave the way. In a good mood Good mood can really exist, but there are few conditions that determine good mood. Making much ado about nothing may be right. I think I should be happy, and I should be happy enough. Just moved into a new house, 100 square meter. Although the decoration is simple, it is simple, bright and pleasing to the eye. A healthy husband, a good girl who gets along with her mother-in-law like mother and daughter after marriage, and a young couple respect each other like guests. Although my son is not on the list this year, this little entanglement is not enough to affect all my feelings.
That day, an old man came to the store to buy a lamp tube. He was full of energy and red, and he couldn't help admiring it. What shocked my soul most was not his health and longevity, but his optimistic and open-minded attitude. He said that from a biological point of view, his present age only belongs to the midday sun. He called me a young man and said I was the sun in the morning, which was a wonderful time in life. When I was speechless, my heart was slightly stunned and I realized something.
Since the world can't respond to our desire, 789 is bound to have a lot of troubles. In life, we will always meet some people and things we like or dislike. It doesn't matter whether they are good or bad. Everything that happens to us is fate. Some people are destined to be passers-by, such as the scenery that slides in front of them. It doesn't matter whether you stay or not. Some things are destined to be experiences, such as a shallow trace, which is irrelevant.
There are joys and sorrows in life, gains and losses, pains and worries, but these are not the whole of life. No matter how beautiful the flowers and scenery are, it is better to have a simple and indifferent attitude. Smart people, who know how to choose and bear too much, always bend over; If you eat too much, you will stay away from happiness. There is a plain and simple heart, that is, spring blossoms and flowing water gurgles. Happiness comes from oneself, from mood.
It's easier to live than to live. Along the way, life is full of ups and downs, ever-changing scenery, and time passes. What you want is to enjoy the scenery. Time flies, time flies, after thousands of vicissitudes, the heart is still clear and transparent, where is there no scenery?
Life is like a river, it won't be calm forever, and there will be ripples occasionally, which seems to be confused, but it is actually confused. Learn to live a quiet life with Buddha's heart. If you are old, look at the world calmly, be yourself, watch the flowers bloom and fall in front of the court, and live a truly wonderful life.
You may not be excellent, but you must be happy. Live for yourself, know how to live well, be kind to yourself, remember never to please anyone, and don't change yourself to please anyone; Understand that I belong to this world, and this world will never belong to me, so I must try my best to be the truest, most beautiful and happiest myself.
In July, green is about to drip, and in July, lotus flowers are in full bloom.
Be a fresh and elegant lotus flower that blooms in July and lets you express yourself. Burning lotus, graceful water? .
Be a lotus flower that opens a quiet world, strong, unyielding, pure and beautiful, contrary to the pure spirit? Mud without dye, clear without demon? .