Turtle and swallow

The turtle had, a shrunken head, curled up limbs, lying peacefully in the hole.

Outside the spring breeze is rising, swallows chirping, lightly sweeping by. A field of uneven height has sprouted stars of tender green. A black shadow, back and forth, flying up and down, sometimes with grassroots in its mouth, sometimes with mud in its mouth.

The strong spring mood finally woke up the turtle. It is curious in poking its head out of the hole to survey, the group of flying elves.

Swallows, weaving in and out of the sky, cheerfully like notes beating on a musical score.

The new wilderness, the new world, the new neighbors, everywhere can cause the swallows that surprise murmur.

The tortoise looked at the swallow enviously, watching it float unrestrainedly between heaven and earth, watching it surround the willow branches mischievously, watching it jump in the flowers intoxicatedly, just that freedom already made it yearn for more.

The tortoise began to silently care about the weather because he did not want to see the swallow wet. The swallow, too, feels that there is a caring gaze, following itself at all times.

Are you tired? The tortoise saw the swallow resting on the ridge not far from its door and asked silently with its eyes.

The swallow was chasing a dandelion that was fluttering in the wind, and replied with his eyes: Why? This is my life!

The swallow flew back in a circle, looked at a thatched grass growing vigorously on the ridge in front of it, and asked the tortoise with his eyes, "Are you bored?"

The tortoise shrugged its neck helplessly and revealed with its eyes, "Why yes! This is my life!"

I don't know, since which day, when the swallow appeared in the same pond where it frolicked, it always saw the sluggish and lumbering figure of the tortoise.

"Pig!" The swallow cursed a thousand times in her heart, but also warmed a thousand times.

The tortoise remained silent, just insisting, on this daily sighting without words.

The swallow's greatest wish at this moment was: how nice it would be if the tortoise could fly!

The tortoise, with its head down, was thinking: How nice it would be if the swallow could stay!

January plum fragrance, February welcome spring yellow, March peach blossom, April rose long, May pomegranate bloom, June lotus red, June ...... June ......

June is nothing special, except that it is a season of separation.

The swallows, as usual, are busy pouncing on food, busy in the noisy world, a piece of their world.

When the autumn wind sweeps the first fallen leaves are yellow.

The swallow, between the fluttering feathers, unconsciously lost its previous light-hearted appearance.

Look how wonderful the world is outside! The swallow, once again, wandered by the turtle's hole.

Turtle, turn back, look at the heavy shell on their own, eyes many helpless, fly! Forgive me for not being able to fly with you.

The swallow, with tears in her eyes, left. A wing, a heartbreak.

The turtle, silently crawling through, a trip to the footprint, a trip to the melancholy.

From now on, the sky is two different.

In the next life, can you still remember some of each other's appearances?