Net Red 04

The spring breeze is warm in the daytime,

a little damp,

blow on the face,

But it's a bit like the smell of tidbits brushing my face,

The fan on the fan tower is turning slowly,

The houses in the distance are misty and smoky,

like a mirage,

The mountains are rolling up and down,

looming, smoky,

like a paradise on earth,

Pieces of green in different shades,

Like patches of green misty ocean,

There is a small stream beside the lotus pond,

The stream is microwaved,

crystal clear,

The sound of rushing water is clear and pleasant,

As if singing the symphony of spring,

Underwater small fish swaying gracefully,

Naughty blowing little bubbles,

The wind caressed all kinds of flowers and plants by the stream,

Bend it now and then,

sometimes lift it up,

As if the earth was breathing rhythmically,

The grass that just sticks its head out,

Watching the outside world carefully,

There is a bridge over the creek,

The long branches on the side of the bridge hang in a string,

into the stream,

The flowers follow the breeze,

danced lightly,

The flowers are fragrant, the petals are fluttering,

attracted a dazzling group of butterflies,

Can't tell which is a flower and which is a butterfly

The shimmering light of fireflies shuttled through the grass.

The cicadas on the trees and the frogs in the lotus pond,

Li