Reference design picture of a handwritten newspaper about the warmth of spring and the blooming of flowers 1

Reference design picture of a handwritten newspaper about the warmth of spring and the blooming of flowers 2

About the warmth of spring Flowers blooming handwritten newspaper reference design picture 3

I have a date with spring

In spring, let me come back every year. My warm heart melts into soil and is sprinkled in your world. . ?Inscription

?The limelight is like a knife?, I really feel this feeling, I miss spring a little. That spring was really special, but was it just a shadow in the memory?

I walked on the muddy path in the countryside, and the dust I kicked up stained my shoes. The wind blowing in front of you has a hint of warmth. I couldn't help but stop because I seemed to see the watchman in the field. Spring is the season of rice transplanting, and every farmer will not be idle. I stepped onto the field road, and the fields were covered with fresh and tender grass. Before transplanting rice seedlings, the ground had to be plowed with hoes, and then cows were used to prepare the land.

I was young and ignorant at that time. I could only hold a hoe and hoe whenever I saw grass. My grandma always scolded me for not being good at hoeing. Whenever a cow pulls a plow to prepare the land, he will always climb on the cow's back naughtily, or my grandma will ask me to hold the plow, so I will pull the plow and let the cow pull me along, and I will get stuck in the quagmire. . Grandma said to me: "You are bullying the cow like this. After a while it refuses to work, so you can pull the plow." ?

I continued to move forward. Memories are like an hourglass, bit by bit. Hua Hua Hua? The crisp sound of running water once attracted me. I approached quietly and seemed to hear the children's play and grandma's shouts. I saw so many white pear blossoms falling in the pond and wandering around. The pear blossoms were like a small boat, just like the spring tide. The rain comes late, and there is no boat crossing the wild crossing. ?feeling. Suddenly, a few birds flew out of the pear tree and shook the pear blossoms off. The blossoms fell like snow drops on the water, creating slight waves. Now I also understand in my heart why the poet Cen Shen wrote this poem: "Suddenly a spring breeze comes overnight, and thousands of pear blossoms bloom." I carefully left the creek and pond, and when I looked back, there was nothing here. Just the video of my memory was playing.

I am getting farther and farther away, and getting deeper and deeper. Going deep into the mountain, I looked at the ferns all over the mountain. How prosperous they were! My thoughts were wandering far, far away. At that time, I always fell in love with the mountains and looked for the big ferns. Because the ferns The unique shape of the leaf itself can be made into a beautiful small fan. Not only that, it can also be used to make flower circles and so on. At that time, I always pestered my grandma to teach me how to knit. There is a large bamboo forest on the mountain. In the spring season, I always like to look for the bamboo shoots that have just popped up in the ground. Actually, I really don’t know whether it’s old or young. Grandma said, you can’t eat the old ones. I feel like the bamboo shoots all look the same. Every time a spring rain comes in spring, it can nourish a large area of ??bamboo forest, and the bamboo shoots will stretch out from the ground one after another. In a daze, there is a sound of swaying branches, and I come back to my senses, looking at the gray The broken trees must have been hit by the cruel frost in winter, and they are also a little green. This mountain seems to be covered with a layer of white ash, and there is also a touch of green in it.

I slowly walked home, standing far away on the pier in front of my home, spring, fell into the deep pool of my memory. Even though there are still traces of you left behind, there is no trace of the innocence of my childhood. That watcher in spring is no longer able to watch in this spring?

Before I left, I had a date with spring: "My spring, don't be afraid of loneliness, let me come back every year" The warm heart melts into soil and is sprinkled in your world.

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