During a holiday, we drove to Huairou, a suburb of Beijing. At dusk, we arrived at the station. When I got off the bus, a fresh evening breeze and a faint fragrance of flowers came to my face, as soft as satin, and slipped through my skin. I was refreshed, greedily sucking the fragrant air, and couldn't help walking along the path.
It is surrounded by mountains on three sides and water on the other side. From a distance, the stream flows out of the mountain forest in the northwest, meanders in the rocky valley, runs through the rocks, runs through the grassland, flows through the lush reed beach and reaches the endless lake. Sudden rocks come out of the cracks in the stone, stretching their waists and waiting for us like vicissitudes of life. The green hills are as beautiful as a girl hanging her head and wearing a dress against the sparkling lake, and the road built at the foot of the mountain is like the lace of a girl's white and bright skirt. The mountain is endless green, where it meets the sky. Green reflects blue, and blue sets off green, giving people an indescribable sense of comfort.
I walked all the way until I came to the stream. The stream is so clear that it passes through the rock like a sparkling crystal. I happily chased the stream, occasionally scooping a handful of water on my face, and that feeling-so fresh, like a string of wonderful notes flowing in my ears. Some people say, "Water is the soul of the mountain." Yes, where there is water, there is always such an aura that people can't help loving it and kissing it. However, water is not only the soul of the mountain. This is the life of nature. You see, far away, a few cattle and sheep are strolling on the reeds; On the lake, a group of waterfowl appeared faintly, stirring up pieces of spray. A few of them may have been taken aback and went straight to the castle peak, blending in the pleasing green.
The stream twists and turns at the foot of the mountain, gradually leaving the shadow of the mountain shadow, and suddenly it becomes clear: what a big lake! As the sun sets, the waves sway with the red sunset glow, and the golden lake ripples with the wind. The waves gently beat the gravel under my feet. Splash a string of snow-white "beads" The reeds sway gently, and with every wave of the waves, a gentle dance music is produced.
I can't help but think of a sentence: rivers that are gone forever, wandering around the world, romantic figures through the ages ..... rocks are flying in the air, and prayers pat on the shore, rolling up thousands of piles of snow. "At present, there is a stream, which is just a calm lake, because there is no majestic momentum of the Yangtze River. I don't think I am as good as Zhou Gongjin. I don't have a feather fan, a black silk scarf or dashing hair. All I have is a heart that pursues nature, freshness and mountains and rivers.
Sit on the rock and let the reeds drift with the flow. The faint sunset reflects the lake like a brocade covered with gold, and the green hills are reflected on the lake, undulating and reflecting the lingering green. ...