A
The rain of summer, sound, come and go, dash freely; unlike the rain of early summer, green and lingering, entangled.
The rainy night in the city, like a black rose, blooming in the clamor, fierce nature, sexy and charming; unlike the rainy night in the countryside, so ethereal and quiet, pale and pure, beautiful and vulgar.
The rain cleared up, strolling in the park in Jiangcheng, a burst of hidden "croak", "gaga" frogs, from time to time from the lakeside wetlands, lotus ponds came.
That is a unique, iconic beauty of summer. Although there is no hour of the countryside at night, a large number of large ponds in the field, the kind of rise and fall, a call for a hundred spectacular.
In a few days, the summer cicadas will come. At that time, the trees on the ground, the sky and water, day and night, the cicadas croaking frogs, will play a three-dimensional summer symphony.
Two
Summer in the city, the countryside, each with its own flavor, their own memories.
The old house in the countryside in the impression, just beside a mountain forest, every morning, just waking up from the night, roosters crowing, birds singing, urging the clouds on the roof gradually dispersed.
In the morning sun, in front of the village, behind the house, the path in the field, everywhere is a busy figure; even that filled with the aroma of rice blowing smoke, also in a hurry.
When I was a child, I liked the bustle of the summer countryside, the kind of feverish, day and night sweating scene, in the water ponds in the figure of the free water shot, the twilight of the frogs all over the ground to bring the movement, and a kind of hot sun under the woods of the cicadas accompanied by the sound of the sound.
Summer, we are not alone, the night is no longer like winter, so dark and terrible quiet.
And long lived in the city, we, buildings towering, blowing smoke is difficult to see; around the sporadic trees, a few cicada chirping, and the city park pond frogs, are running on the road in the sound of cars, the music of the square dance, gradually faded, evoking only more memories of past days.
Three
The summer rain drenched the dusky, frogs out of the pond. The frogs and cicadas are singing in chorus, forgetting that they are in another country. After a rainy summer night, a pool of frogs was stirred up.
And the robin is also a natural "weather forecaster", folk "robin song, the sky clearing", "robin call stop, continuous rain will come". We might as well listen to the frogs and cicadas from the ancient poems.
Xin Qiji of the Song Dynasty wrote "West River Moon. The frogs were singing in the rice flowers, and the frogs were singing. Seven or eight stars in the sky, two or three spots of rain in front of the mountains. The old time thatched store by the social forest, the road turn the stream bridge suddenly see.
There is also the Song Dynasty Zhang Liangchen "summer night": just as the dusk rain will be clear, green pond meandering all the frogs. The moon is already on the banana, but there is still the sound of the eaves dripping. Song Dynasty Lu Benzhong's "Farewell Night": I want to say goodbye to you with a thin wine and a broken lamp, but I can't see the dark fireflies in the grass. The first thing you need to know is that you are going to be able to talk about it in the next year, and the frogs will be singing in the rain all night long.
Liu Zhaoyu of the Tang Dynasty wrote "The Cicadas": "The rain has cleared up a lot, and the mountains are cold and green. I don't want to invade the remaining day to take a bath, but I'm listening to it in a different country. The first time I saw a cicada, it was in the middle of the night, and the second time I saw a cicada, it was in the middle of the night. The first time I saw a cicada, it was in the middle of the night, and the second time I saw a cicada, it was in the middle of the night.
Song Dynasty Kong Wuzhong "listening to cicadas": fear of the sun flowing gold constantly sound, pine wind and streams to help the sounding. I have nothing to do but to lean on my basket and listen to the cicadas carefully.
The sound of cicadas is a symbol of the lofty aspirations of Yu Shinan, who said, "It is not the autumn breeze that makes one's voice far away from one's home". Wang Wei's "leaning on his staff outside the wood door, listening to the cicadas in the wind" is a poetic life.
Four
Frogs call from spring to autumn, tireless; cicadas climb out of the soil, along the roots of the tree to climb up high, using the last ounce of force, until the back of the spine cracked open a seam, a new life into a butterfly cocoon.
Listening to the frogs and cicadas, in the noisy city, do not feel noisy; instead, like a serenade under the hypnosis, there is a kind of away from the hustle and bustle, return to the idyllic relaxation, the heart suddenly get a moment of tranquility.
Cicadas and frogs are born for the summer, for the summer drum and song, dozens of days of short life, resounding a summer. Cicadas and frogs sound, rendering the warmth of summer, pouring out the heart of the complex.
Summer has arrived, the lotus is in full bloom. The pond is sitting close to the flower fence, the blue tree is clear and the rain is dry. I'm not sure if I'm going to be able to do this, but I'm going to be able to do it, and I'm going to be able to do it.
Cicadas are quieter and quieter, frogs are singing in the new scenery, day and night a sound, reported that the summer peace and quiet.