Short and beautiful articles praising plants, without mentioning other animals or seasons.

(1) I love mimosa

Mimosa, what a strange and delicate grass!

Its small leaves, as fine as carvings, are green, comfortable and affectionate, asking for warm sunshine and fresh air. But whoever touches it with your fingers, even just a little bit, will shyly close it, with a hint of coquettishness in the shyness, as if to blame you for disturbing its peace. Then, the entire leaf droops, like a heavy sigh from the heart. After a while, Xu Shi felt that the uneasy harassment had disappeared. Xu Shi was nostalgic for the beautiful world despite the unexpected, and spread out the green leaves with inexplicable confusion. Unexpectedly, there was another unprovoked provocation with the fingers, so it couldn't wait to close it. This time it seemed to be teased and insulted. The situation was no longer coquettish, but sullen.

Mimosa, how much fun and interest it brings to people after dinner and tea! Some people compare it to a young girl in her first life. She is so shy because of her purity and truth. Well, it's undoubtedly adorable.

I hope to have a wonderful mimosa...

And I finally got it, it was a young grass bought from the flower market in spring. So, I planted it in a pot and placed it on the balcony.

It is so comfortable and quiet, which makes people love it. In the morning, it is covered with sparkling dewdrops, which are like its bright eyes, looking happily at the gorgeous morning sun; at night, it bathes alone in the melting moonlight, quietly enjoying the silvery tranquility. And in my free time, when I comfort it, it always closes it up coyly again and again, never getting bored, and even gives a timid smile when it hides its face. It’s so spiritual. Little life! People develop feelings after being together for a long time, so why not do people and flowers?

The passing time turned into the lush green of Mimosa, and I gradually discovered: Mimosa is not a weak girl, but a strong one! It does not require people to fertilize or water it, and the handful of sand put into the shallow basin is so barren! When the sand is as dry as a turtle's back, the mimosa still stands proudly. It grew so quickly that it quickly outgrew the flowers planted in various pots. All this shocked me.

Mimosa has such a contradictory nature, its strength and shyness are so inconsistent! Nothing in nature is blind and unreasonable. I believe that every citizen of the plant world, like humans, has his own experience and gained his own personality from it. So, Mimosa, can you tell me: What is your nature? How do your strengths and weaknesses blend together?

Mimosa, do you understand my question?

In summer, the days are filled with howling wind and thunder. After a torrential rain, I caught a glimpse of the impatiens and roses on the balcony that had been beaten by the heavy rain and were wilted and twisted. The grapes were in the muddy water, and the mimosa also had its small leaves tightly closed and its petioles hanging down. Suddenly, its small leaves stretched out wonderfully, and the petioles gradually stood up, looking calm and sober.

My thoughts are lingering in this stubborn green...

Is the mimosa's mimosa a protective instinct? So, what environment creates this instinct? Could it be that it has suffered through the vicissitudes of life?

The confusing mimosa!

Soon, my idea was confirmed when I was casually flipping through a plant book. This special ability of Mimosa pudica is indeed a long-term adaptation to the dangerous external environmental conditions. It is native to the tropical areas of South America, an area with unpredictable winds and frequent thunderstorms. Whenever the wind and rain come, when the first raindrop hits the leaves, its leaflets will close extremely sensitively, and the petioles will droop and curl. This reduces the damage caused by violent storms.

I can't help but feel deep sympathy for Mimosa, it is actually a victim of disaster! It is small. When nature is ruthlessly violent, it cannot scream against the lash of thunder and lightning like pines and cypresses. It can only shrink its body and remain silent in the devastation of wind and rain. The cursed life has created a sad way of survival. The unyielding pines and cypresses are certainly worthy of praise, but can we ruthlessly accuse the mimosa of being weak? For it, this "weakness" shows the tenacity of life! Because it always loves life and firmly believes in the future, it can survive stubbornly in humiliation.

If we cannot forgive its "weakness", then one thing can certainly be understood by people: it has not betrayed itself or its faith, it lives only for the green onion that never withers.

But, Mimosa, why do you refuse people's intimacy, even if it is just a light touch, you will close it in panic? Is there only evil in this world, no good intentions; only harm, no caress? In your eyes, the world is so untrustworthy, life is so ruthless, false, evil, and ugly are always present, while truth, goodness, and beauty are just dreams. Continuous damage has made you deformed and abnormal. How have you been tortured into being strong and innocent?

Mimosa touches my heart like this. From now on, I don't want to tease it anymore. Who can bear to let an unfortunate life tremble in fear and sink back into the unbearable past for the sake of one's own temporary fun?

Let its past fade away in memory forever, give it peace, give it joy, give it sunshine and spring breeze, then its green will belong to the world all the time.

So, not only myself, but also I will not allow anyone to tease my mimosa for no reason. Since the trauma of the soul is branded by life, then no matter how serious the wound is, it should be healed by life, I think.

After so many years, I never expected that the mimosa I cultivated would no longer be shy! Don’t believe it? Please feel free to turn its leaves, and it will accept your caresses softly. Even in summer, when wind and rain suddenly come, it calmly welcomes the rapid raindrops, as if it has the power to resist thunder and lightning. Oh, mimosa, but the constant nightmares have disappeared forever, life has healed the wounds, and you have opened your heart without any scruples? That must be the case! A line of sonorous verses burst out from my deep heart, and struck back and forth in my chest, like a gong: Only sincere love can revive a twisted soul!

I don’t regret at all that Mimosa is no longer shy, I’m just glad: it finally returned to reality from the frightened dream, it has a real life, it rebuilds the world Although it didn't come easily and even took a long time to gain trust, it finally came.

Oh, mimosa, what a charming grass! You are ordinary and pure, you are sharp and elegant, you are "weak" but strong... I praise you, protect you, bless you, and cultivate you with all my heart!

I couldn't help but stop.

(2) Wisteria Waterfall (Excerpt)

——Zong Pu

I have never seen wisteria blooming in such bloom, only a brilliant scene Lilac is like a waterfall, hanging down from the sky, with neither its beginning nor its end visible. It's just deep and light purple, which seems to be flowing, laughing, and growing continuously. On the large purple banner, there were dots of silver light, like splashes of water. When you look carefully, you realize that it is the lightest part of every purple flower, teasing with the sunlight.

The spring reds have faded here, and there are no crowds of people admiring the flowers, nor are there any bees or butterflies surrounding them. All there is is this tree's shining, blooming vines. The flowers are bunched next to each other, one after another, pushing and squeezing each other, so lively and lively!

"I'm blooming!" they are laughing.

"I'm blooming!" they shouted.

Each spike of flowers is in full bloom on the top and ready to bloom on the bottom. The color becomes lighter at the top and darker at the bottom, as if the purple has settled down in the tenderest and smallest buds. Each blooming flower is like a full sail, with a pointed bottom cabin under the sail, and the cabin is bulging; it is also like an irresistible smile that is about to bloom. What kind of ambrosia is contained there? I leaned forward and wanted to pick one.

(3) Willow

——Feng Zikai

If I want to praise a plant now, I still want to praise willow. But this has nothing to do with the previous situation, it’s just what I’ve been feeling these past few days. If I talk about it casually on a whim, I won’t be like believing in a religion or cultism and committing to it for the rest of my life. Because the weather was nice yesterday, I was busy writing until the evening, so I couldn't help but sit on a bench by the West Lake for a while. I saw tens of thousands of strings of green beads hanging on the willow trees on the lakeshore, floating here and there in the warm spring breeze, with many slightly curved S lines floating out. I thought this plant was really beautiful and lovely, and I praised it very much. Not at once.

I heard people say that this plant is the meanest. Cut a branch and stick it in the ground, and it will come to life and eventually turn into a big willow tree.

It does not need noble fertilizers or deep cultivation. As long as there is sunshine, soil and water, it will live and grow very strong and beautiful. Peonies eat pig intestines, grape vines eat broth, and many flowers and trees eat bean cakes; but willow trees don't eat other people's food, so people say it is "cheap". Probably "expensive" means you have to eat it. The more you want to eat, the more you want to eat well, the more "expensive" it becomes. It seems more expensive to eat a lot and have no use, just for viewing. For example, peonies are more expensive than grapes because peonies eat pig intestines only for viewing, while grapes eat the broth and produce results. Willows do not want to eat people's food, and they have wood for people to use, so they are regarded as "cheap" by others.

I praise the beauty of willows, but their beauty is different from peonies and from all other flowers and trees. The chief beauty of the willow is its drooping. Most of the flowers and trees grow upward. Red apricots can grow to "out of the wall" and ancient trees can grow to "towering into the sky". It is good to go upward, but I often see branches, leaves, flowers and fruits flourishing, and I seem to have forgotten the roots below, and think their appearance is disgusting. You are dependent on them for sustenance, so why do you just sit high on them and ignore them? Your life is built on it, so why do you only covet your own glory and never look back at the roots in the soil? Most flowers and trees are like this.

Even the roots below have been chopped off, but the flowers and leaves above are still thriving. It is really disgusting and pitiful to be there for the last moment of blessing! The willow does not have such a hateful and pitiful appearance: it is not that it cannot grow upward. It grows quickly and is very tall; but the taller it grows, the lower it hangs. Thousands of thin willows on the streets, all of them do not forget the roots. They often look down below, borrowing the power of the spring breeze from time to time to dance to the roots in the soil, or kiss it. It's like a group of lively children playing around their loving mother, but they always come to the side of the loving mother, or throw themselves into the arms of the loving mother, which makes people feel very cute.

(4) Praise to the Poplar

——Mao Dun/Written

The poplar tree is really not ordinary, I praise the poplar tree!

When the car is running on the endless plateau, what jumps into your field of vision is a large patchwork of yellow and green felt; yellow, that is soil, uncultivated virgin soil, millions of The shell of the Loess Plateau that was accumulated by the great natural forces many years ago; the green ones are the result of human labor's victory over nature. They are wheat fields, blown by the gentle wind, turning up rounds of green waves - then you will I sincerely admire the two words "Mai Lang" created by the ancients. If it wasn't accidentally created by a clever hand, it is indeed the essence of refined language. Dominated by yellow and green, it is boundless and as open as a rock. If it weren't for the distant peaks that look like side by side reminding you, you would forget that the car is driving on a plateau. The feeling that comes to you at this time may be " "Majestic", maybe "great", and other adjectives. However, at the same time, your eyes may feel a little tired. You close your eyes to the current "majestic" or "great", and another taste is lurking in your heart. Too long - "monotonous". No, it's a bit monotonous, right?

However, in an instant, if you suddenly look up and see a row of trees far ahead - no, or even just three or five, one or two, standing proudly like sentinels, , what will happen to your sleepy mood? I screamed in surprise at that time!

That is the poplar tree, a very common tree in the Northwest, but it is really an extraordinary tree!

It is a tree that strives to reach the top, with straight trunks and straight branches. Its trunk is usually ten feet high, as if it has been artificially added, and there are absolutely no side branches within one foot. All its twigs all point upward and are close together, as if they have been artificially made. They form a bunch without any sideways growth. Its broad leaves are also pointed upward, with almost no slanting, let alone hanging upside down; its skin is smooth and has a silver halo, slightly glowing with light blue. This is a tree that remains stubbornly erect despite the pressure of northern wind and snow. Even though it is only as thick as a bowl, it strives to grow upward, reaching a height of about ten feet, two feet, towering, indomitable, and resisting the northwest wind.

This is the poplar tree, a very common tree in the Northwest, but it is by no means an ordinary tree!

It has no whirling posture, no bending and circling branches. Maybe you want to say that it is not beautiful. If beauty refers specifically to "whirlring" or "leaning out", then, The poplar tree is not a good woman among trees; but it is majestic, upright, simple, serious, and not lacking in gentleness, not to mention its indomitability and uprightness. It is a great man among trees! When you walk on the plateau where the snow has just melted and see such a tree or a row of poplar trees standing proudly on the flat land, do you just think it is just a tree? Don't you think of its simplicity and seriousness? Being strong and unyielding at least symbolizes the farmers in the north? How could you fail to associate them with the vast land behind enemy lines? There are strong and unyielding sentinels everywhere, standing just like the poplar trees, guarding their hometown? Don't you think a little further that the poplar trees, with their closely knit branches and leaves striving for progress, seem to symbolize the spirit and will of those who are fighting all over the North China Plain today and writing the history of New China with their blood?

Aspen is not an ordinary tree. It is extremely common in the northwest and is not taken seriously by people, just like the farmers in the north; it has extremely strong vitality and cannot be tortured or oppressed, which is also similar to the farmers in the north. I praise the poplar tree because it not only symbolizes the farmers in the north, but especially the simple, strong and progressive spirit that is indispensable in our national liberation struggle today.

Let those who look down on the people, despise the people, and stubbornly regressive people praise the aristocratic nanmu and despise the poplar which is very common and easy to grow. I want to praise the poplar tree loudly!

(6) Talking about Four Flowers

I have dreamed of owning a large sunflower field countless times. On a quiet summer afternoon, hide yourself in the dense green shade, and the golden flowers can indeed be "outstanding". Sit or lie down along the gap between the stalks of sunflowers, raise your head and watch the sunlight jumping and flowing on the petals, filtering out the speckled skylight and cloud shadows. When the breeze passed by, I heard the flowers giggling, giggling, giggling, and felt their skirts quivering happily around them. I once foolishly wanted to turn the school playground into such a place. In early spring, I mow away only a few inches of weeds (these wild daisies can reach waist height in summer), sow the seeds, and maybe dozens of flowers will bloom. flowers. I planned it enthusiastically for several days, but finally gave up: the playground is not a flower garden after all, and it is inevitable that the flower stems will be broken by a shot put one day. Wouldn't it be a pity?

I always feel that sunflower is an exotic flower and is incompatible with the taste of China. Among the green pastures on the low hills, the original wooden fence intermittently surrounded a lively golden area, as regular as the pruned bushes in the Palace of Versailles. In the distance, where the grass blended into the blue sky, there was a wooden house with a red spire. A French romance. And the few branches in the wilderness, with their proud heads held high, inserted in round-bellied white porcelain vases, were given to the Netherlands by the sunflower-like Van Gogh.

Yes, sunflower is not a popular flower in China. Although it is said that "this flower should not be shown to ordinary people, because it is newly dyed goose yellow and has not yet dried", how many refined people really love sunflowers? Chinese literati love the femininity and timidity that "is as sick as the West and is better than three points", so most Chinese flowers can be seen under the moonlight. A hook on the eyebrow at dusk looks so cold, and the sparse shadow of Lin Hejing's plum blossom wife slants horizontally under the moon. The first quarter moon swayed in the blue waves. The duckweeds were quietly rowing in front of the boat and gathering quietly behind the boat. The newly opened lotus petals were filled with water-like moonlight. It was the women from the south of the Yangtze River who were "taking the moon to pick hibiscus." Dongpo doesn't take a closer look at the begonias in the high wall at noon, but waits for the moon to turn around the cloister and when the fragrance and mist fill the sky, he holds a red candle to startle the beauty from her dreams. The moonlight adds to the cowardice of flowers, and the frail and morbid nature of flowers most arouses the pity of poets. But the sunflower was bright but not delicate, lively but not reserved, innocent but not charming, so we had to let her bloom so aggressively without anyone asking too much. The brilliant color of sunflowers can only be seen in the sunshine. If it is covered with a layer of hazy moonlight, the bright flower disk will be dimmed, and only the whirling figure can be seen, which is ineffective. Wei Zhuang had long said: "Under the moon, the country looks so majestic." The generous woman became uncomfortable when she started to squirm.

Sunflower is indeed an innocent flower. Even looking at it under the moonlight, I can't bear to compare her to Dong Shi. Rather, she is more like the little naughty girl in Zuo Si's "Poetry of a Beautiful Girl" with "thick red lips and yellow kisses". See Jiaohan. As for the sunflower that grins at the sun at noon, after thinking about it, it turns out that it is like Qingwen who tore off the fan, innocent and willful.

A few sunflowers were actually planted under the wall, but it was a pity that they did not grow well in the cracks between steel and concrete. Since ancient times, few people have picked sunflowers. They say it is because they want to keep their seeds. They really do not understand the habits of literati. You might as well break the peaches and apricots that bear fruit into branches. How can you begrudge the sunflowers? The real reason is that sunflowers cannot be used to hairpin hair. The towering bun of ancient women should have set off the huge flower plate of sunflowers. However, as Su Dongpo said: "Although sunflowers are charming, their pedicles are too short to hold hairpins." Strangely enough, the short pedicles of sunflowers seem to have Infinite power can hold flowers and pursue the sun persistently. There is no need for people to pick it, and there is no melancholy of "knowing who to prescribe it for every year" of planting red medicine. She prescribes it for the sun. So, growing sunflowers is a complete joy. Hemerocallis can forget worries, and so can sunflowers. However, after daylilies drive away the sorrow, what is left is warmth and tranquility, while sunflower never understands sorrow. She only lets you hear the clatter of golden petals and the sun. Giggle, giggle.

Only the sunflowers lean towards the sun.

Jasmine is alluring.

Jasmine is a very Jiangnan flower. The petite smile is propped up on the slender calyx, and the white smile is dyed as fresh as flowing water by the dense green. Jasmine is the jasper from the south of the Yangtze River. It always nestles on the branches tenderly and timidly, never like peonies lying drunk or peonies scratching their heads. Peony is the daughter of the city of Luoyang, and as for Shaoyao, Shaoyao is actually a graceful actress, with a carefree and charming look, and a flick of her sleeves that can captivate a country. Only Jasmine is the most southern woman. Deep in the small courtyard with white walls and black tiles, she may be in the boudoir that can only be found after lifting the last Xiang curtain. She may be hidden behind a fan under the banana tree that sings when it rains at night. A faint smile lingered on the whole town like the misty rain in the south of the Yangtze River, as quiet as the rainy season.

Jasmine’s smile can charm a city.

"Xinghua spring rains in the south of the Yangtze River", Xinghua is the small white and red Yue girl's cheeks, and Jasmine is the Suzhou woman who speaks Wu Nong's soft language. Apricot blossoms are draping gauze in the stream, and jasmine is embroidering in the boudoir. People say that apple blossoms are made of snow and pear blossom petals are made of the moon. So what is jasmine? The petals of jasmine are formed by April water. Only running water can be so clear and agile, melting with the blue color and warm sunshine of mid-spring. Jasmine is not rain, rain is the sick beauty of Jiangnan, and Dai Wangshu is the knotted lilac.

Shu Ting said she didn’t want to have a daughter because she was too delicate and too lovable to bring into the world. She probably had the same feelings for Jasmine. I don't dare to raise jasmine. After all, the beauties from the south of the Yangtze River are not wild girls who are used to being beaten on the loess. When the dry wind from the north blows, the water-colored skin turns pale, isn't it painful? But I couldn't forget my love for jasmine. When my friend heard about it, he generously gave a pot of jasmine that was growing well at home and took it home, feeling a sense of guilt in his heart for a long time. Set aside the brightest window for her and accompany her in awe every day, but dare not reach out to desecrate the hem of her emerald skirt - even though she always smiles so lightly. The soil where jasmine is grown is fertile black, different from the loess in other flower pots. That soil can be seen everywhere in flower beds in the north, and the hibiscus trees that grow there are also blooming vigorously. Following Liang Shiqiu's example, he drilled small holes in the soil and filled them with sesame syrup. As for the practice of burying dead cats under the roots of flowers, he had no choice but to stay away from it. But I never do the pruning work myself because I can’t bear it.

Actually, Jasmine was not used to being supported like this. In Jiangnan, she was mostly just a foil. Really, just like the Jiangnan women in ancient times. Jasmine is just randomly planted in the corner of the small garden, or quietly under a tree and field-colored gardenia, and its fragrance lingers quietly in the small town like running water.

Yes, the fragrance of jasmine is always so elegant and gentle. "If I compose a flower chart in his future years, I will list it as the best fragrance in the world." Maybe this is not Jasmine's original intention. The title of number one might as well be given to Sandalwood, which has the thick and alert feeling of Buddhism, the same foundation as sitting in meditation, and the same wonderful verses. Or give it to plum blossoms. She has worked hard enough to bloom, and there is actually a hint of ice and snow in the fragrance. Jasmine, on the other hand, will always be the gentle and elegant scent of a boudoir woman.

Lu Youyou said that plum blossoms that have been crushed into mud also have fragrance. I dare not say whether this is the case, but I know that jasmine rolled in water with tea will not lose its fragrance. In tea shops in the north, there is jasmine from the south. Beijingers love jasmine tea. The tea leaves are scented with jasmine over and over again, and before selling, the waiter will generously grab a handful of fresh jasmine and wrap them together. So in tea shops of all sizes, the scent of jasmine spread out from all kinds of teapots, cups, and bowls. It’s the season when new tea comes on the market, and jasmine is alluring.

But at this time, the jasmine is just to accompany the tea, just like when it was inserted diagonally on the Qinhuai girl's temples at her parents' home, it reduced a bit of the peony's charming charm and added some quiet flavor in the boudoir. Jasmine can only complement green tea, it cannot support fermented fermented tea. If it's an oolong, you still have to chew the plum. When Huang Shanshangu and Su Zizhan had a tea party with Yayan Fei, they wanted to be with plum blossoms, but Jasmine couldn't afford it.

Jasmine and plum blossoms do have some fate in detail. There are not many flowers and trees that are included in the song, and even fewer are still widely sung. Plum blossoms are one, and jasmine is one. "Three Lanes of Plum Blossoms" is a pure song by literati, and "Jasmine Flower" is the charming smile of a woman from Wu. If plum blossoms are the scholar-bureaucrats in the northern part of the country, then jasmine is not the beautiful lady who smiles without makeup by the waterfront in the south of the Yangtze River? But Jasmine will not overwhelm the country, she is not a begonia of Xifu piled with rouge, she is upright and unwilling to fight for anything, just like her Jiangnan will always be willing to be the backyard of Chinese culture, she will always be what she has been doing in her embroidery room for thousands of years A charming woman who is a man's foil.

Jasmine is alluring.

Zhou Dunyi said that Lian is the gentleman of flowers. No, Lian is a talented woman.

Lian rebelled against Confucianism. The wild water should belong to Lao Zhuang, and the whispering of lotus and water should sound a bit like the South China Sutra. Or, quietly hold a Buddha flower in your hand, get used to seeing the 480 temples in Jiangnan, and practice your own wild fox Zen with the lotus. How can a Confucian master from Lianxi understand Lotus?

Lian Su looked up at the sky - talented women are a little arrogant. The color of the lotus is such a real watery red, not the red of rouge, not the red of cinnabar, nor the red of begonia and peony, it is a color that only belongs to lotus. The Southern Song Dynasty painter's careful coloring on the silk was too thick, but Pan Tianshou's natural ink strokes brought out the real interest of the lotus. Lian never decorates herself, but Lian will not refuse to appreciate it. The whistling in the wind, the silence under the moon, the clear and round water surface, the fields of lotus leaves, the hibiscus facing the face, the gentle steps on the waves, the lotus smiling, it is shockingly beautiful.

However, Lian felt bitter in her heart. Lian is a talented girl. Lian has her own knowledge and pursuit, so she has her own depression. Lian refuses all intimacy - "You can watch from a distance but don't play with it" - because Lian is watching.

A good friend once said that the lotus is the most beautiful flower. After hearing this, I was shocked. Liu Yuxi said, "The hibiscus on the pond is pure and less sentimental." He didn't understand lotus. She understands Lian, but she doesn't fully understand it. She could see that Lian Yong and Jing Ding were not as indifferent as women, but had a kind of restlessness, which she called "charming". But in fact, it was Lian's watch. What is Lian watching for? Lian didn't know, Lian only knew that it was a kind of classicism and beauty, a holy reason that made her life worth living. Maybe it's the pine under the Xiling, the willow by the Jinming Pond, it's love or integrity, maybe it's neither, it's just a distant belief that may not exist in reality. In fact, as Liang Heng said, without a watcher, the lotus can still bloom and then wither. Listening to the praises of the world, like Peony and others, they will never know sorrow. But Lian is transcendent. She does not want to just become a spectacle to be admired by people, and silently accepts the stylized tragic fate of women under Cheng-Zhu Neo-Confucianism. She wants to seek the value of life. Therefore, the lotus is higher than the flowers, and the lotus is a talented woman.

Lian looks like Su Xiaoxiao and Liu Rushi, but Lian is not. Lian never showed the bitterness in her heart, never looked sickly, she suppressed her watchfulness, and always looked so elegant, with a dignified and proud smile. This is the cultivation of Lian, the dignity of Lian, and it is also because this watch belongs only to Lian. It is the luxury and loneliness of life, and it is destined to be chewed slowly by one person. Perhaps all lives should have such a watch, a painful questioning of the meaning of life.

I like the poem "White Lotus" written by Lu Guimeng: "The flowers are often deceived by others. This flower ends up in the Yaochi. Who can feel the ruthlessness and hatred? When the moon is clear and the wind is clear, it is about to fall." The true way has exhausted the lotus. Nobility and loneliness.

I fell in love with Lian after reading "Legends of Lotus" by Yu Guangzhong. For the passionate colors of the water in my dream and the pure soul of poetry, I am willing to be the dying swimmer in "Rondo" and swim towards her shadow all summer long. But wait, is Lian willing? The moment it was picked, the lotus turned hazy, lingering in the middle of the water. Lotus does not belong to you, nor is it anyone's vassal. What Lotus gives you will always be just a lotus-colored dream that is neither cold nor warm. But Lian is still watching alone, stubbornly, bitterly, watching life with beauty.

Uncle Zhou Mao, who studied Neo-Confucianism under the Lotus Peak, did not understand the lotus. The enchanting girl Yuannu in the imperial garden of Emperor Liang Yuan did not understand the lotus. Even the Buddha on the lotus seat looking down on all living beings may not understand the lotus.

Perhaps the only person who really understands lotus is the lotus-like woman holding the magnolia boat in ancient poems: wading across the river to pick hibiscus, the orchids are full of fragrant grasses.

Who do you want to leave behind? Thoughts are far away.

Lian’s thoughts are also far away.

Wisteria has been lonely for a thousand years.

Since the time when Li Bai said a thousand years ago that "wisteria hangs on cloud trees, its flowers and vines are suitable for spring, its dense leaves hide singing birds, and its fragrance is beautiful," the wisteria has been lonely. Although under the flowers there are charming girls from the south of the Yangtze River, and three thousand beauties dancing and singing, people cannot help but feel sad, and flowers cannot help but feel lonely. Flowers understand people's language, do people know the flowers are sad?

Wisteria is rare in Jiangnan. The lavender hue renders the classical tranquility and noble mystery of Jiangnan, while the winding and vigorous vines tell the vicissitudes of history over the past five thousand years. She has been growing there for one year, ten years, and one hundred years. This year will be the same as last year, and next year will not be any different from this year. She will always be so leisurely and calm, unfazed by honor and disgrace, not old, but she doesn't know what youth is. Thousands of miles away, there is only one wisteria in the palace of Beijing, and the Jiangnan style is displayed. And wisteria is a very majestic flower. Sparse and light purple, deep and light green, there is nothing artificial, just like a thousand-step corridor, it just spreads out and hangs high and low. The longer it goes, the less it needs to be attended to. Just drive on calmly year after year.

In fact, why do we need a wisteria? Even the shadow of the wisteria is quite sentimental. In the Juanqinzhai in the Forbidden City, the walls and roof are all painted with wisteria flowers. Thick vines climbed along the walls to the roof, and strings of wisteria flowers, unopened, half-opened, and fully opened, hung down gracefully. Emperor Qianlong brought his Jiangnan to the Golden Palace, using only a picture of wisteria. It is unknown whether this picture was written by Lang Shining, but no matter who it was, he guessed Qianlong's thoughts. Qianlong, on the other hand, understood Jiangnan.

Wisteria is edible. Northern snacks include wisteria porridge and wisteria cake. I don’t know what they taste like, but I once pulled off a lot of wisteria that had just bloomed, kneaded it into a cake shape, and fried it until golden brown on both sides. When you eat it, the sweet fragrance lingers on your lips and tongue. However, I still don’t know if this is a matter of chewing plums or a real act of burning the harp and boiling the crane. But no matter what, during the "Cultural Revolution", she was told that wisteria was useless and was cut down indiscriminately. This really offended her.

But Wisteria doesn’t care.

Yes, a thousand years is too long after all. It’s not that there weren’t fat and thin orioles under the flowers of the wisteria, and it’s not that there weren’t always blood splatters on the leaves of the wisteria. The fragrance of the powder is warm, the soft words are gentle, the swords are shining, the bloody winds... Ziteng has seen too much, so she is lonely, and she no longer cares about everything. I don't care about the former wealth of Jiangnan and Saibei, nor do I care about all the pain.

But does Ziteng really not care about anything?

No.

It is said that Wisteria died for love. It was originally a love story that couldn't be more vulgar: it was said that a girl and a boy fell in love, but they met with opposition, so the two eloped, and when they were cornered on a cliff, they both jumped to their deaths. After death, the girl became a wisteria and the boy became a tree. However, ordinary is not ordinary. Only those who have experienced this story of life and death will understand the unforgettable pain. But the girl was even more unlucky. Even if she turned into a wisteria, she could not stay with the tree. Instead, she decorated the courtyard of Jiangnan and the corner of the emperor.

I once went to Baodugu with my friends and unexpectedly encountered Wisteria. As we neared the top of the mountain and entered the trail alone, we suddenly turned around and saw the wisteria in full bloom in the col. I have never seen the wisteria blooming so beautifully. It is blooming all over the mountains and valleys, so densely that at a glance, it looks like a large number of wisteria flowers are filling the mountain col. Wisteria's arms hugged the tree that lifted her so tightly that it was unclear whether the flowers were hanging on the vine or growing on the tree. I am reminded of the sentence in the "Flower Classic": "Wisteria climbs up from the edge of the tree, and the vines are tangled and connected with the tree." This scene has only been seen until now. I was amazed by this sweet and solemn scene. For the first time, I saw that wisteria, a flower that has been lonely for a thousand years, also has feelings. Yes, after a thousand years, everything can be forgotten. Only this love, the promise she made with her life, she is still insisting on.

My friend came to look for me. When he saw the wisteria, he said "Ah" and shouted to take pictures here. I originally wanted to stop it, for fear of offending the clinging relationship between the vine and the tree, but after thinking about it, I let her go: maybe Wisteria wanted others to see her happy relationship with the tree.

There is only one wisteria tree, and it is not lonely.