The fields of flowering rape on the ground floor like a lively start, the submerged mountain, village, there is no marginal. They people to use the same color golden Xuanyu forward to the spring rule. Golden spring, fall into the hearts of people.
Sitting in the car picnic, out of the window at all times be able to provoke a pastoral poet Masaoki. Of rape vague shapes hillsides farmers brilliant smile, and the birds twittering in the beam between the free, distant smoke rising quietly, just as God\'s magic wand, cozy and proud, waving, colorful is the spring theme. A violin concerto seemed floated into the hearts of every note, and those flowers are posture, and the shadow should be, I know this is the magic of spring.
Time floating quietly entered the smoke-like pace of the summer. In the summer there is always the general umbrella of the lotus leaf, container of crystal drops, King Side occupied ponds, small Bailian modesty is always exposed to only half. Walking in the quiet gravel road, pick up the camera, casually looking for an angle, shutter flash is a masterpiece; in the summer there is always enthusiastic cicadas, afternoon, those lovely sound always playfully slipped into your snoring ; summer, my grandmother always sat in the large trees, Shan Zhao big fan, holding the radio to listen to commentary about Suzhou, put up a drawing board, no matter what color of paint to use, then the screen always has a unique rich the summer. The hearts of the summer, both quiet and boisterous, like a symphony of golden hall, those golden instruments total latent after a deep quiet, because it is summer symphony.
In the evening, and his father walking along the narrow track, the footsteps of two people woke up sleeping with red cedar leaves, but also stepped into the autumn sunset. Autumn sunset red, like sleeping with the girl\'s cheeks, the vague shapes of my father and my face. I like walking, light tread of those fallen leaves, like step on step on the soft carpet. Autumn wind blowing hair, a quiet voice reveals a subtle fragrance to lightly moisten the Xintian. We always talk about the complexity and excitement of life, but he is not upset. Those whispered words, alerted the roadside grass, back to the vague shapes of lavender sky, until the first star came a light, we step on the return journey from the road. Autumn clarity people look back to the warm affection, reminiscent of the former Soviet Union a distant deep folk songs, accompanied by melodious organ melodies to drift in silence.
Warm lights lit the cold winter night, sitting at desk, Zizi flavored reading a letter from a friend, friends, the blessings of the last sentence went so far as that is the way people feel warm in winter. Outside the window is still indiscriminately whistling wind. Window of people who are comfortably stroked handwriting, so warm and moist with heart, facing the pictured smiling. At the moment to melodic echoed, that is, I told my friend blessing, so be it migrating to a friend\'s ear as the north wind.
Turn the hourglass of time, listen to the four seasons in the bottom of my heart ever flowing movement, spring concert, symphonic summer, autumn folk songs, the blessing of winter, a record of years of beauty, human beauty ... ... Time Goddess turned turn the seasons, and even from a long stream in the human heart strings of the song ... ...

田里的油菜花就这样这样热闹地铺展开来,漫过山野、村寨 ,没有边际。它们就这样以一色金黄宣谕着对春天的统治。金色的春天,让人的心明朗起来。
  坐在郊游的车上,窗外每时每刻都能挑起田园诗人的雅兴。满山遍野的油菜映着农人灿烂的笑靥 ,鸟儿在梁间自由地呢喃,远处的炊烟悄然升起,就像上帝的魔术棒,惬意而高傲地挥舞着,多彩便是春天的主题。一支提琴协奏似乎飘进了心里,每一个音符都和那些花姿、树影应和着,我知道这是春天的魔力。


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