In April, it rained a few times, scattered a few flowers, and the singing of birds disturbed the weeping willows for a few nights. We had a few clear dreams, and the early summer that bloomed like a flower was in full swing.
April is a flower. The altar of roses that had just bloomed became even more beautiful after a clear rain. The blooming petals are like butterflies spreading their wings, accidentally flying to the lakeside in my heart. The clematis next to it is getting bigger day by day, almost covering the entire flower pot, and now it is already blooming on its own, growing infinitely. The succulents on the pool basked quietly in the sun in the wooden trough, and even the fallen succulent leaves began to germinate.
April is a poem. I love April in Shaxi, I love this April day in this world, and I love this cool early summer. With a cup of coffee, mixed with the aroma of books, read a poem, from tomorrow, care about food and vegetables, at dusk, the wind is soft, the stars are inadvertently flashing, the drizzle is sprinkled in front of the flowers, and the dew is as clear as tears , the sun dappled on your smiling face.
April is a rainy day. The wet willow leaves are rippling on the lake with the breeze, like a girl wearing a green skirt, and the gently blowing skirt is dancing to the music of birds. The row of willows dancing in the drizzle will surely be ecstatic for it.
April is a dream. In April, I only used one night to pass through the flower-scented spring and the colorful summer. For a moment like a dream, I seem to have entered a world about reuniting with flowers and birds, whether it is roses, Geraniums, or Marguerites, as gorgeous as summer flowers. This is a long lucid dream, if it can last for a long time, it must be a perfect life.
April, I think, is already summer, but in a trance, I always feel that it is still spring. Only by holding tender and sweet cherries and overripe strawberries in my mouth can I remind myself that spring and summer have changed. The air here, the scenery here, and the old houses hiding history here are like a clear dream, quietly blooming in the life of April.
The longing for extraterrestrial life has been staying in Shaxi Bazi and never left. As long as you pass by, you will enter her lucid dream, and any stone slab in the caravan is full of happiness. When you are tired, come to the reunion in Shaxi to dream.
(Meet Benben and Tiaotiao again)