A cascade of swan lake, rumble enthusiasm, attract many tourists rushed to onlookers, underwater camera camera phones are all looking for the best position. While I prefer gurgling water go down those routes, the lake pebbles under clear discernible, casually for sound so shallow, such as jade pendant, inside collect dark and not make public, accompanied by wind, into the middle, diffuse into the haze glaze, gurgling. Can not help but let me think of yu yu boya performance, and yu boya son of allusions. Is exclamation bosom friend hard to find dermes, looked up and saw the precious little margin on the bridge. The so-called fate, too, all cannot explain, perhaps can be relieved with the fate. Always margin of shallow, but deep, finalizing it, who is without fault.
 
Scooped up a handful ChunYang, fingers had been overlooked, total also is not tight, no wonder the ancients with floating clouds don't after a long, flowing water decade. Especially this bright spring day, hard to avoid lets people linger, dense warm tipsy, is most likely to top reenex . To count the time scenes in the story, only to find that your growth.
 
Lakeside sunset, full of tenderness, and a half into the rosy clouds, half of the lake. Dye faint shy, let most of the day in the west of outline paints beautiful, color gradient are concentrated secret master, interpretation of the quiet and peaceful. The leaf boat on the lake, the position just right, open a line of half the evening with a half diffused reflection, and this boat along with the wave of ups and downs, but also gave me a boat from now on, jianghai send the dreams of the rest of his life.
 
Sow a seed and wait years. Planted a seed of the unknown, I would like to, let the spring rain woke it up and feed it to grow.
 
If a tree grass, I would like it in the vicissitudes of age, the total in the wilderness, in full bloom the tension of life. If it is a flower, I would like it to catch qunfang, contend for the colors of the lively, more smile at the green leaves A Bar, grateful for the spring rains hard, buried with the lingering fragrance into the mud. If a tree, I wish it takes root in first, then with pride. One hundred trees, don't care about at that time the gain and loss, only willing to vast breadth of mind to the pedestrian sun rain. Because the modesty is virtue the best measure of supercilious.
 
About spring, there are too many, write not over let them with spring germination.