When I saw those dancing crowds, I knew I had missed a lot of beautiful scenery.
In fact, the world's most beautiful scenery, not in is beautiful as a picture, or in the name of the beauty drawn from the dirty, in fact, the most beautiful scenery, in our side, and our favorite thing to do, the name is: miss.
I used to miss the scenery, countless, I will be closed in a small world, to the plain, to the dust.
Familiar music sounded, remember the last time I came to this square, is a long time ago, and, or purely passing through, as a lovely soy sauce party.
I know that here, is the stage of the elderly, 7:00 to 9:00 pm is their time.
They dance to the tune of these older people, no matter how dancing, watching people who will not panic to imitate the movements of the people around them, clumsy but happy, dancing duo, two people embracing together, rotating in the large square, happy.
Played is the golden songs of the seventies and eighties, the familiar melody, accompanied by people's dance, seems to have a vivid life, the distant street lamps, sprinkled with halo yellow light, headlights that dazzling beam of light, the siren, are drowned out by the sound of the music, turned into a faint stream of smoke, surrounded by, so beautiful.
The cool wind caresses the hair and kisses the cheeks, so that people here, already drunk, drunk in this place, drunk in this landscape.
Today out of a trip, I realized that I really small, those who have missed the scenery, and has passed away the beautiful, are their own missed, is not it?
I can no longer be indifferent, I have been a little chagrined, angry with myself.
I don't know if those who dance are happy, just looking at these scenes, I just understand that I am happy from the bottom of my heart.
In fact, at that time, I was happy and sad that I had missed such a beautiful scenery, that beautiful river of lights, that dancing crowd, each of which thrilled me and excited the cells of my whole body.
The music of the next song sounded, and the people who had just felt tired were like clockwork and tireless mannequins, happily devoting themselves to the next song.
I was already on my way home, and I couldn't forget it.
Walking under the street lamp, my heart gradually calm, these are the scenery I once missed, there is a time to make up, then, in the travel along the way of life, those who once missed something, there is when there will be a time to make up?