In this season of kapok blossoms, the Peninsula's sun also restrained its fierce, only the tenderness and warmth to the warmth of the earth.
This is the season when the north wind is raging, the leaves are falling, and the flowers are withering, but the winter here seems to be especially pampering this peninsula. Walking in the street, everywhere a green, sunshine sprinkled that fine warmth moist ironing my face, like a lover's soft kiss.
This early winter wind, gently, it is not like the summer wind as mercurial, not like the autumn wind as debauchery. It is more like a refined lover, to the earth, it dare not be frivolous, and more is gentle and soft kisses.
This is a kapok, in this season full of warmth. You see, that a tree of pink clusters, scrambling, you do not let me, I do not let you, standing together on the branches laughing.
Dong Hui River, pulsating through the body of this kapok. The river quietly flowed through, it is like a long mirror, the kapok that the blushing face reflected in the water surface, the water surface is calm and wave-free. This river, it is worried about their carelessness to break the pink flower dream, disturbing the flower whispering?
The park in the morning, after the morning crowd and the noisy square dance banter, this time seems a little quiet. Walking under the foreign kapok, head is that a tree of tender red, feet stepped on the remains of fallen flowers. Heart, a little intolerance. I thought, this falling red, will it hurt?
The breeze whisked by, a piece of fallen English light from the branches off, they stretch out in mid-air a beautiful dance, and then silent and gently fall on the ground. I want to reach out and catch a petal, but I can't bear to stop them from returning to the earth. There is not a sigh, but see a place of tenderness.