He bent slightly, and at the same time whispered: Welcome,
As if the earth was breathing rhythmically,
danced lightly,
look around,
The mountains are rolling up and down,
The stream is microwaved,
There is a bridge over the creek,
Underwater small fish swaying gracefully,
Solanum nigrum, Ryan followed Croton to get off,
The grass that just sticks its head out,
Like patches of green misty ocean,
The wind caressed all kinds of flowers and plants by the stream,
The shimmering light of fireflies shuttled through the grass.
The houses in the distance are misty and smoky,
looming, smoky,
The sound of rushing water is clear and pleasant,
There is a small stream beside the lotus pond,
like a paradise on earth,
Naughty blowing little bubbles,
into the stream,
The evening breeze mixed with the smell of hot soup,
in the left and right rows of realistic robots wearing maid costumes,
sometimes lift it up,
The long branches on the side of the bridge hang in a string,
crystal clear,
The flowers are fragrant, the petals are fluttering,
attracted a dazzling group of butterflies,
The moon shadow casts infinite silver threads,
Bend it now and then,
like a mirage,
The flowers follow the breeze,
As if singing the symphony of spring,
Can' t tell which is a flower and which is a butterfly
Watching the outside world carefully,
Pieces of green in different shades,