That is, something will suddenly break into your heart when you least expect it, which will make you unprepared.

That's the alley in my memory. That's a rainy lane, that's a narrow rainy lane.

There is no plain clothes girl like lilac, only my hometown elders.

In my dreams, I often go back to that alley, where my childhood dreams are recorded. That's where dreams begin. I vaguely remember that at noon on a sunny day, I woke up from my sleep, yawned, then drifted off and smelled a fragrance of flowers.

I don't know who picked the wild flowers nailed to the door in the wild and who nailed them to my door quietly. He (she) not only gave me a bunch of flowers, but also gave me the sweetness in my sleep, the fragrance after waking up, and an excellent mood.

I think before I wake up, he or she has walked out of the alley where I live. That alley is so short, so short, as short as an early morning yearning.

The sunshine in the morning is so naughty that it makes me laugh happily. I feel something whispering in my ear. This is the sound of the morning sun. I felt something kissing my cheek again, and I knew it was sunshine.

What slipped into my face? It's my tears.

Am I touched by the morning light? No, what moved me was the bouquet of flowers and the people who offered them.

I finally know that there are still some people in this world who care about me and my lonely soul. So he sent me a bunch of flowers and his heart at the same time.

This is not just a bunch of flowers, this is a beating heart.

I remember I often walked in that alley, and I knew there was my family there. They are my childhood memories and my attachment when I grow up. Today, I walked in that alley again, but unlike before, this time I returned to the haunted place in my dream.

I vaguely saw my uncle, my aunt, my uncle, my brother, standing or sitting, all fixed in that short alley.

So I went over, and some of them were eating, and nothing changed because of my arrival. Still eating, just looking up at me, I walked over, quietly, quietly.

Time stood still at that moment.

Folks, I think of you again. I saw you in my dream. Of course I know this is just a dream, because I am far from home. Folks, only in my dreams can I see you so close.

I don't know if you will blame me for this, because I just walked by quietly without saying hello to you. I don't think so, because you are my hometown.

Why didn't I get a greeting? Because it was just a dream.

It is raining.

It's a rainy morning. At that time, I was too young. I only remember that it was a rainy morning. I walked in that short rainy lane. I won't meet any girls. The candy in my hand is not finished, but it is getting less and less. I know, just like all those years when I was in this alley. Although sweet, it is getting shorter and shorter.

There is smoke in the rain, and everyone in the chimney is smoking and leaning with the wind.

Spring dream/fog wet balcony

Night, deep, only the sound of rain, still going on, humming, songs in the depths of the years.

Night is another sleepless night. Why do I belong to loneliness, or rather, loneliness belongs to me Night, deep.

The saddest thing in the world is autumn rain, and the warmest thing is spring breeze. I saw a distant mountain wearing a hat, a cloud wearing a hat, and a little dreamlike sadness coming quietly from a distance.

Probably an old man in his 500 s, with a white beard and a silver beard. Fahua was born early, and it is old age. So it came to earth with crutches. It comes from far away, quietly, coming.

May be a quiet girl, I seem to see the breath of spring rippling around her mouth, rippling with an intoxicating light, a beautiful and sweet smile that people can't let go.

It seems that he should still be an urchin, a naughty child. It refuses to give up the happiness of childhood, and it refuses to grow up because it will lose a lot when it grows up. Those who don't want to lose will not come back in their prime.

It looks like a baby, and the mumbling cries fascinate people, daydreaming. Maybe it's a baby, but it's just as haunting.

I can't see the dark gray, dark cloud clearly, but it has quietly come to me from a distance.

The most annoying thing is the spring rain, tick-tock, tick-tock, gurgling all night, until dawn, the clouds are gone So I said, what I understand best and like best is the wind, which dispels the haze and makes the sky blue and Wan Li cloudless.

The most considerate thing is the breeze!

Spring has covered the branches.

Spring has come, with a touch of new green, grass arched out, with a smile, willow branches sprouted. Peach trees, with several buds and pear trees on top, are also preparing for a rare peace in a year. By the time Wanshu bloom arrived, it was already colorful and the forest was dyed.

The spring breeze blew the south bank of the great river green, and all the springs went to the east and never came back. Only the spring breeze wandering in the world, wandering in the peach blossom forest, dotted with flowers.

You are a lonely flower stand/foggy balcony.

You are a lonely flower stand, I know, that's your habit for many years. Every early spring, build a beautiful flower stand, then plant cucumbers or beans that children like to eat at the foot of the flower stand, and then let the spring breeze blow, blow this lonely flower stand. Lonely flower stand is no longer lonely because of your arrival.

Now, you are full of silver hair, but you still stick to the habit you have developed for many years and build a lonely flower bed in early spring.

The spring breeze seems to blow up the young old swallows and let them soar freely in the blue sky. Spring breeze blows their feathers, so their feathers gradually plump, and they begin to fight in the sky. However, is this fact cruel to Lao Yan? Xin Yan grew up and began to work hard in the sky. There are only two old Yan left in the empty nest, sighing. However, I don't think they regret it, because children have their own ideals and their own sky. They should fly away and find their own future. You are the same, even if it is an empty home, because the children have grown up and become married, which is the best reward for the mother.

For children, you are also an endless spring breeze. With the support of your, the children grew up and went to work. They are diligent and conscientious, and have made extraordinary achievements in their ordinary posts.

However, in the end, you became a lonely old man. In early spring, just after the Spring Festival, the children left, and you fell into deep loneliness. Accompany you, only the lonely flower stand.

Grandma, now that I've come to see you, I'm flattered to see your silver hair fluttering in the wind and you welcoming me at the village entrance. I didn't know your difficulty at that time. I only know that your children are filial and can give you a generous living allowance, but I have overlooked an important fact, that is, you are a lonely old man with children and grandchildren under your knees. You want the children to stay with you-"The older children hoe the bean stream east, the middle children weave the chicken coop, and the children like hooligans best, and the stream heads lie and peel the lotus." This is the life you want.

But who can give it to you?

There is only a lonely flower stand, which blooms quietly in the spring breeze, stretches its branches and leaves in the summer rain, and bears rich fruits in Qiu Guang-but there is no one to accompany you to pick them.

Grandma, I'm coming. I'm coming. I'll stay a little longer so that you won't be lonely. But after I left? Who will accompany you?

I looked at the flower stand with branches and leaves spreading in the early spring morning breeze and smiled quietly. However, two lines of tears fell from the corner of my eye unwillingly, quietly and quietly. I know those two lines of tears are for you.

Leave the alley/damp balcony

I don't think I can get out of that alley.

Sunlight climbs up from the high eaves and then leaks down in this small world. This small world also carries our joys and sorrows.

I don't know if my words can express my feelings for the alley, it is an unforgettable memory; That memory will never come back. People who live in memory, things that exist in memory, seem like fish frozen at the bottom of the lake this winter. I won't forget it, but I won't always remember it. Only on the days of warm spring in bloom, when the spring breeze wrinkled a pool of spring water, did those fish float from the bottom to the surface, which surprised me.

I remember us-I played badminton with the girl next door in the alley. It was a happy time, and her younger brother, the brat, participated together. I think he has become a very attractive boy now. After all, six years have passed.

At that time, I was so cheerful. I think the future is full of hope, so my spirit is high. But now, I seem to be a different person, and I am not cheerful at all. What changed me? Is it the pressure of study? What is changing? I think my world is still that world, but I'm not who I used to be, so I don't blame anyone but myself.

This is a clear attitude towards life.

I still remember the scene when we caught frogs with leaves. It was also a good time when we never came back.

I also remember that our flower trees fell red in late spring, which was a kind of sadness and a rare "sadness" in our carefree youth. So I miss it, just like I miss the time when we are gone forever.

I don't think I'll ever get out of that alley again I also remember the old woman in the alley. She just walked through that long alley with her accustomed pace, accustomed rhythm and decades of normal heart.

Next door is not a happy home. There is a paralytic patient who has been in bed for many years, probably suffering from polio. I went to his house to help my grandmother take care of the paralytic. He is a burden to the family next door, but the family next door is very kind to him, so he can live well, live well and be happy. ...

"He is happy, we can suffer ..." The grandmother next door once told me so, but she only carried the paralytic on her back. In front of the paralytic, she is still smiling, just because he feels better-after all, she is a paralytic who can't make ends meet.

The girl next door is an eleven or twelve-year-old girl. Although only eleven or twelve years old, she is very sensible, probably influenced by the gloomy atmosphere at home. But she is very cheerful and her academic performance is good. Because I study well, I can guide her. She is only in primary school.

She often comes to my house to ask questions, which are very simple questions. I could have told the answer directly, but I didn't. I was responsible, so I just nodded. She also asked about the composition. I wrote it directly for her once, and her home was there that time. I have a clear conscience. But not at other times, I am determined not to write, even if writing a primary school composition is a piece of cake for me-I was thirteen years old and went to junior high school that year. Perhaps everyone has an unforgettable memory, mostly in junior high school and high school.

I don't think I can get out of that alley, because I can't be as cheerful as I was at the beginning, and I can't go back to that carefree era.

But the road of life is still very long, and I will continue to go on.

Later, we moved far away and lost contact with our neighbors. But no one knows that I have returned to that alley countless times in my dream, and that happy time is gone forever. ...