Early in the morning, I asked a friend to go for a walk. In a remote town, there are few vehicles on the road, birds occasionally sing in the ears, a wisp of setting sun rises from the east, and mottled sunshine sprinkles on the forest path.. I chatted with friends about work, life, society, family, unconstrained style, everything, the sun chasing behind us, the front is a long shadow, I stepped, it also stepped, quietly imitating the appearance of time flowing away. Time flies away like a passing car on the road. At a distance, you haven’t seen what kind of car it is. It’s already roaring to you. You can’t think much of it, and it’s gone away from you. The passing years sometimes suddenly flash from behind you, but you can only watch it walk away from your eyes. The future days will come from where you can see it, but you can only helplessly let it go where you can’t see it behind you.. In early summer, when the wind blows, the catkins of willows are swinging all over the ground. I hate this white kohane, but I have to Atishoo it again and again. In the eyes of poets, it is an ideal flying with heart, thin fluff, and small seeds flying to unknown distant places. Maybe one day it will take root and grow into a towering brawny body, or it will only die of old age in unknown places and make meaningless vagrancy.. In my opinion, it was a terrible bullet shot into my nostrils, where a shot was fired, accompanied by Atishoo.. Walking tired, folded into a cool and refreshing, the wind slowly, leaves rustling, turns out to be a rare comfort, lazy stretching, kicking, is also a kind of exercise, isn’t it? At ordinary times, if there is a turning point between the two points, it will be at most a circle drawn from the two points as an axis, eating, drinking, pulling and scattering.. It’s not so much the physical exhaustion of middle-aged people as the mental exhaustion of people halfway up the mountain. Most of the smiles of middle-aged people are an equation, smiling + nodding = saying hello, smiling + flattering = pleasing someone, or smiling + indifferent = numbing coping. All these things, even the laughter carries a lot of insincere words. I now like to listen to the laughter of a child or a girl of 16 or 17. There is no life, no life and no aftertaste in that kind of laughter. It is just a kind of smile, like a handful of water, flowing from my heart to my face.. On the ground in the forest, there are scattered and unknown grass, all yellow and emaciated and timid.. When I was in college, I saw a saying: Everyone was a bug looking for happiness. At that time, it was disgusting. Now I think about it, most people’s life is not only a bug, but also a bug trapped in the bottom of my heart by myself, just like the grass at the bottom of this tree, which can’t hide from the sun and humble life.. Boring, sometimes I would flip through mobile phone newspapers and chat to kill time, or I would like to check the address book on my mobile phone intentionally or unintentionally, sometimes I need to find someone’s phone, but I would flip through it for half a day. At first glance, hundreds or even hundreds of people, whether they are friends or relatives, or someone I know for a certain period of time, are like catkins perched on a branch at a certain time. A gust of wind blows and they all rush away, some of them never contact each other again.. Think about your phone book, so many people, how many have contacted more than twice a year? How many more have called you twice or more? Always fix those people, fix those bugs, I hold your tail, you push my ass around work and life, draw small circles for decades. Where the eyes can see, the heart may not be able to see, but the eyes see the arms waving at the distance they wish to reach.. In most of our lives, our hands will only move in two directions, either pinching their fists or touching their hands to fight for their own life, or to cheer for others. However, sometimes we forget that there is sunshine outside the window. If we are willing to raise our heads, we will surely see that the window is a sea of sunshine. I want to scoop up the top half of the gourd ladle and put it in my heart to light up the whole chest so that she can warm up and warm up her eyes and face all the time. Then what we see, hear, laugh, a certain sea of sunshine and the sound of sunshine.. I think, that kind of life, must be the most beautiful.