Unexpectedly, in the blink of an eye, a week has passed, a week, I think you must have learned a lot of new skills, it is time to do a good job of weekly diary in a serious way. How to write a weekly diary is more eye-catching? The following is my organization of the ugly alley cinnamon weekly journal, welcome to read and collect.
The dark night, quiet alleys, from time to time there is a refreshing fragrance, in the gradual spread of ......
On Saturday night, I came to the park not far from home for a walk because of my bad mood.
Bright lights hanging high on the banyan tree, emitting dazzling light, selflessly lighting for people. Spirited ladies, have already chosen a good place, set up a team, with the rhythm of the music jumped up the square dance. There are also a lot of old people, playing cards on the stone table, onlookers talking and laughing.
This is the first time I've ever seen a man with the same name.
It is a pity that all this has nothing to do with me.
I can't stand this kind of hustle and bustle in my irritable mood. I just want to find a quiet place, alone to take a break. Well, not far from the park, I found an alley that very much met my requirements.
This alley, which is behind many stores, is where all the air-conditioning units are installed. It feels fine now, but in the summer, it will become a big oven. Just by looking at it, I can see how remote it is. But it's just the right "feature" to make me feel a little bit relieved. But it doesn't make me feel any better.
Walking, walking slowly, walking quietly. I seem to be walking on a path of sadness, and the more I walk, the more tired my heart gets. On this path, I can't accurately describe my current mood. Sadness, enveloped me.
A fortuitous breeze blew quietly, accompanied by a fragrance that was if not close, drifted into my nose and my heart.
With a sudden shock, my forward steps stopped and I froze in place. "What is it? What is it? So familiar?" I looked with the source of the aroma, it was cinnamon! I then woke up to the fact that there were cinnamon trees here! I looked around again, and there wasn't just one! I ran the alley from end to end and back again, just a few dozen meters long, but there are two dozen osmanthus trees here!
Yeah, so many laurel trees, and I didn't even notice.
I just carefully scrutinized the osmanthus tree in front of me: four small petals, close together, like a small smiley face, looking at me; the middle of the light stamens, and the petals are closely linked together, to me; one next to one, a cluster of clusters, and a cluster of clusters, come together with me. "Red flowers must be set off by green leaves." The delicate and lovely osmanthus flowers, scattered on the tender green leaves, have an indescribable match. The seemingly weak but tough stems hold up the flowers and leaves and shoulder its responsibilities. The tenacious root is deep *** in the soil, and it uses everything it has to give generously to the nutrients and water, strong survival.
The wind is blowing quietly again, a fragrance from the osmanthus, slowly flowed into my eyes ......
I look at these osmanthus puzzled: this ugly alley is almost no one comes, then why do they still have to take root, germinate and bloom here? There is no reason at all!
I was thinking, suddenly realized - "forever with a good woman, the fragrance of the world", this is not the osmanthus flower language? I'm not sure if this is the best way to do it! The osmanthus flower symbolizes "sublime", "beautiful" and "auspicious". Its bloom, not just to let others appreciate, but so that they can give to others. This is their **** the same desire!
It is because of this wish that the laurel lives in this world.
After figuring this out, my mood has long been calm. Because I understand my own path from the laurel: a person's life, the important thing is not in the other people's give, but in their own pay and dedication; so that their lives can be full of happiness, so that their existence is full of value.
Like the ink-like sky, the wind accompanied by the alley, the leisurely fragrance of flowers, like an eternal painting, y fixed in my memory. In this wonderful painting, I want to sing a hymn for this fragrance of osmanthus in the ugly alley ......