The Story of Old Photos How long has it been since you opened that photo album? Half a year, a year, or even longer, dust off the light layer of gray on the cover, and open it, you will see the suppressed colors in the memory. Traces of time are floating on the old photos. From those yellowed photo album pages, wisps of laughter from seven years ago, the warm golden sunshine from ten years ago, the fleeting time, and the old taste. Look at this old photo. Is that little girl with few hairs, dark eyes, and wearing a white tulle skirt really me? In the photo, I am in a stadium that has not yet been renovated. Even though I was wearing a knee-length skirt, I was naughty and active, but regardless of my "ladylike image", I grabbed the rusty parallel bars in the stadium with my chubby fingers and did a substandard "pull-up" , the legs look like they are kicking around in the air. Looking at this photo, the tiny fragments of my childhood are easily shaken out. I remember my father told me that when I was a child, because there was a stadium near my home, my parents often took me to the stadium to play. There are a lot of fitness equipment in the stadium, but I am a tomboy who "wears a skirt and learns to shoot". As soon as I arrive at the stadium, I climb up and down around the sports equipment that is taller than me. At that time, my parents would always watch quietly from the side, grabbing a few shots from time to time and holding up the camera to "click" for a close-up. Count, one, two, three... There are many photos in the album about the joy and laughter planted in the stadium when I was young. Think about it, I was only five or six years old at that time! Fingertips flicked through the pages, and my thoughts traveled through time. The familiar smile stirred up the memories and instantly gathered them into a vast ocean. The father in the old photo is sitting on a chair and reading a book leisurely; the mother in the old photo is sitting on the golden lawn of the park under the winter sun; the old photo is me, dressed in pink, playing carefree at the beach... ...Every old photo is a testimony to the unchanging warmth of memory as the sun rises, the moon sets, and the stars change. Jiang Jin