Life is So Stroll

Every evening when I always hurried away covered with tired, and the sunset, ran back to the warmth of their own home.

Cities of winter, a cold and unfamiliar feeling. Squeeze miscellaneous crowd hastily marched in the the spin with northerly street, I do not know them, they do not know me. I walked in the monotone background, seems to have been to go in a thirties silent movie, with the the road cutting converted, I slowly melt into the night view of the city many piles.

I was tired but firm walked like a voice slowly pulling me, I involuntarily walked toward the familiar direction. The depths of the old house in a quiet alley, where I have a warm home.

My home is an old-fashioned two-story old house, located in an old alley depths. This old German-style house has a front and rear courtyard, the house the antechamber to face the street, and now has been turned into a shopping pedestrian street. Backyard landing door open is a meandering alley streets. Each time to go home, I do not want to go through the front door Avenue, prefer to detour also is always willing Guaidao this old alley. Walking in long alley of the old roadway, the brick wall of tall gray bricks attached creeper vine, ivy branches of the season so dense, the Yela decadent, empty to leave thin root caught, go deep into the mottled walls, completed a piece of the grid formed by the vines. The Road is the kind of bluestone paved alley, stretches from the alley has been to my backyard door. Stone paved trails gap, falling for many years during the rainy season wantonly scrambling, deposited a lot of moss, looked around as if one is covered with the green road. Stone paths on both sides, close to the walls loaded with acacia trees, acacia trees that stout trunk, often covered with light brown tits tits to flutter Lengleng foliage flying in and out, all this , so that the entire old alley filled with a different kind of vigor, hidden in tall buildings, complicated hustle and bustle of city life, seemed so elegant and rustic, very kind of vast and ancient even cornered "mood. Every spring arrival of huge canopy will open alley locust tree full of bits and pieces of white flowers, like raindrops, like fresh debris covered the night sky like stars. Gust of wind blowing, ground down with a broken white petals. Small, every time I walk in the alley to see the Flower and often picked up, hidden in the book tuck skirts. Sleep at night, clothes stacked on the pillow next night are Huaihua that fresh incense.

Stone paths at the end of the courtyard of the old house in my house, the courtyard in front is by the bluestone 垒成 the stone steps, wide dwarf stepped in front of the glowing the Jisi clumps, bearing in mind that several generations of people have gone through walking. The stairs on one side of a leafy tong pear, and Fengyun long decades old tong pear aloof. Stuck to the old house walls of foliage, from the shade of the window frame puddle of orange Xin Yu, shine upon each other with the street lamps in the streets, in this throng of urban night scene, such as painting an inclination to Dan Ma. I liked the old tree, like the summer when hiding in the shade of a tree, lying on an old wicker chair, holding a yellowed bindings, listening to cicadas singing. When the moon is full, like brew a cup of tea and watch the moon from the tree gap through the cold dappled alienation, as if full of thoughts poured out on the ground. Looking moon transit, getting stronger think the situation with much feeling in the moonlight, the sum of the old tree, like pull accompanied me, and I, but the the tangled old tree foliage gradually sank. Like old tree, prefer the old tree youthful bloom. Every tong pear blossom when four of the alley will be pervaded one depressed fragrance, walking in the alley, and it seems that even the skirts are infected with the fragrance of.

... Life is so stroll this, all memory to relive their own growth experienced in the heart and mind, despite some of the past years has been the fragmentation of the silkworm bite, but life still fresh traveled. I am waiting for the mood to meet this extraordinary, these old memories, as if to let me back in the past. Years this is a white painted, waved his hand, only to see many of the plot and the past once contained in the speeding train, drifting away from me, only the stairs and the old tree along with me, gley and I all the way to grow, with my temperament, personality and dignity, enlightenment pursuit and efforts.

"The fact of life is a painful tragedy, comedy imply only have details, happy and painful memories can choose. Always thought, The cantabile life suddenly, can declare that I am strong. They have never once found a warm, just on the other side.

Sunset shed all led me step by step toward the way home when the street lights a lamp light, the warmth of home and windows yard lights revealed. I walk in this background, all sentiment is resting on my shoulders. Jinhui the lights floating Chung nautical, look for one of their own dreams. Every day, there will be different happened, the only constant is that we all have a happy home.