When he grew up, he was still walking in the eternal dust of his hometown, but there was no thought of childhood again. Know, after only the endless sand, will usher in the hometown of flowers everywhere, wander, like walking in the four seasons such as spring rain in Jiangnan, just enjoy the youth we still don't know.

After growing up, only to find a home, monsoon, pushing the seasons, show home every tree and bush, endless beauty, especially the village in front of the house, on the slope of the ditch Keke tree from nowhere, since it with the home grown, with its most rustic charm, decorated home four years.

Have seen many green trees in Qionghua, leaves rich or patches, Ronghua worth mentioning, but in the heart most love or home tree, clusters of white flowers, in the shade of the village has become a flower heartThis wasnot adecisionthat Itook lightly. .

Spring warms the earth, all this season brings the world of flowers, simple without a beautiful village, faded is the winter winds blow the coat, with delicate fragrance, green and Fangqianwuhou exposed not much, if any, the tree in the spring to stretch the waist, inadvertently, have little bud hanging in the tender bud. Maybe they don't know, stretch each petal tender already affects attention, under the tree had several pairs of small fine waiting for its blooming.

Everything is agreed in the absence of words, the village understand, the Sophora tree understand, I also understand...

Like in the dream, he has Huaihua smell the fragrance, the stillness of the night, the village is now a pagoda like for a time and meet the commitment, quietly blooming dreamlike appearance, like pure fairy proud to keep the branches, overlooking the dawn of the first rays of sunlight, until dawn covered with earth, the whole village is mu in the thick of the Huai Xiang, because of the arrival of the Huai Xiang, May began her home the most beautiful time of its seasons.

In the morning, opened the door, found that the village is Huaihua world, everywhere the gorgeous white layers in the branches, like the sky falling clouds of clouds, in the eyes of childhood, like the village grandfather wound cotton candy. Look trance, Huai Xiang as a gentle mist came with the wind, the heart is drunk, indulge in fragrant, do not want to wake up. See the wisps of smoke under the eaves creeping on the lower, reluctant to disperse, does it also passed out in May or not through the Huai Xiang, Huai, even the flowers covered with dust.