Dandelion

If your vase has only been filled with noble roses, then you naturally don't know the beauty of dandelions in the field. Bathed in the morning sun, blooming in the wind, pure yellow, brilliant gold, standing in the grass, unique. Once people see it, they will never forget it, and they just want to get it forever.

Spring came very late in this place, it was more than March, and the winter jasmine was just scattered, but the creek behind the house was still dry, but the mountain behind the stream was still withered and yellow, not to mention my colorless house. So I often go out for a walk, asking about the news of spring again and again. Forget it, since it can't be prosperous and gorgeous, let's make it simple and magnificent! Just like in front of my eyes, the scorching sun shines on the snow-capped mountains, and the afterglow is lifted by the broken stream. The golden light is shining in the heaven nearby, in the distant land, in my desolate world.

Maybe my world is relatively remote, maybe my life should be like this, I have never seen a rose. In fact, in such a mountain, my heart can't hold that luxury, and being plain is my only wish.

I also occasionally pick a few branches of dead grass and green wood, put them in a vase, and decorate my humble house, and tell myself, "Thousands of sails pass by the side of a sinking boat, and ten thousand trees are springing in front of a sick tree." If I am lucky, I can also bring back a few dandelions, then my house will be warmed up in an instant, and the flowers will bloom as I wish. I hope that life will be like this in the spring of dandelions.

The last time I went to the mountains with my friends, I came across a beautiful dandelion. I didn’t want to leave for a long time. Finally, he picked one and gave it to me, so I went on with peace of mind. But that dandelion is always engraved on my heart. heart.

The jagged wooden fence stands in a row, and it is known from the mottled wire that it has been guarded for many years; the green and crystal-clear young leaves block the strong sunlight, and infinite tenderness penetrates through the floating gaps of the leaves; the crystal clear Surrounded by beautiful streams, rushing from a distance. This piece of dandelion grows happily beside them, and they live a perfect life in such a world.

Later, I put the dandelion in my hand into the stream and let it float away, but my friend quickly stopped it, picked it up and gave it to me. I always think that the beauty that I can't keep is better to let it be free and make it happy. But friends think that since you are destined to have it, why not try to keep it, maybe it belongs to you, but you refuse and give it up easily. Now that dandelion is lying intact in my sandalwood box, when I feel lonely, I will often look at it.

I have heard many hymns about dandelions, and those about the beauty of nature are far inferior to the stories about dandelions. The dandelion has not faded. It has shed its gorgeous coat, revealing its pure white body and mind. Even if it is facing the end of its life, it still walks out of this land freely and bravely, goes to the outside world, and continues to be wonderful.

Even if that piece of dandelion is treated as a delicious meal by naughty yaks, even if that piece of dandelion is uprooted by unintentional people, even if one day I leave here and never come back, even if one day I am in a trance and confused, even if there are thousands of things I will never forget the dandelion for any reason.

If one day, we are like dandelions, each dissipating in the wind, don't be sad, because as long as we are in this world, even if we are separated by thousands of mountains and rivers, we will have a memory of dandelions, a memory that will not fade miss.