The sky is the limit, there are flowers everywhere in life.

Punching a cup of latte, the air immediately overflowing with warm sweet aroma, I opened, appeared in the first page of the mountain dwelling dispersal of the "tonight does not write the story", in a few words I saw two scenes, the mechanical dull city and vivid stretch of the countryside.

This is a different stage of life, rationally should choose the city, the scattering of the pen at the end of his sight to the countryside, and my mind instantly appeared in this sentence: the end of the world where there is no grass, life everywhere there are flying flowers.

I like to read the text of the mountain dwelling dispersal, those real stories let me in a déjà vu, but not have the opportunity to experience the scene, experience a richer life. In such an experience, the linear life has expanded its width.

Outside the window is the hustle and bustle of the streets, the busy city mechanically running. But in front of the computer, I can clearly see the countryside of red flowers and green trees, and smell the breath of spring.

Not deliberately, not forced, life everywhere there are flying flowers.