Follow the wind, love prose

Navigation on the river was suspended before the typhoon

September 16, 2018, Sunday, storm

This typhoon was named "Mangkhut". The picture shows that the eye of the typhoon looks like "Mangosteen" (it's not the case). I admire these people who name typhoons. They can come up with such literary names in the face of severe weather, big or small.

On September 16, the city had "three suspensions" due to typhoon.

When I woke up in the morning, I thought about how the wind was blowing and how the rain was falling.

When I opened my eyes, I was a little disappointed to find that everything was safe. But couldn't sleep anymore.

Before the wind blows, I read a poem by the poet Na Ye:

"The Wind Rises" When the wind rises, I love you, and the vast reed fields follow the wind. In this distant place, there is no need for thoughts, only reeds follow the wind. The vast wilderness is like our love without content

A small poem, only writes simple natural scenes, the wind and the reeds, but it brings Readers have endless thoughts.

The poet writes about love from the wind and the reeds, saying "our love", just like the reeds following the wind, so simple and natural, without thought or content. Let me see the purity of the poet.

What is rare is that a few short sentences can still be written and sung repeatedly by poets.

Reading a favorite text in the morning will make you happy all day long. Even on a typhoon day.

We had promised that a typhoon was coming, and I remembered that there were some items on another balcony that needed to be cleaned up, so my husband got up early and went back to clean up. I said I would go back with him and clean up faster, but he refused to let me go. , said he could handle it and asked me to rest at home.

Even if the wind blows, even if it’s dark outside, I think some love just goes with the wind.

I was scrolling through my phone alone and saw a short video posted by a senior photographer in my circle of friends at 6:09 in the morning. It was a perfect shot of the dark clouds on the edge of the Pearl River, facing my slim waist. At this location, a group of photography enthusiasts gathered on the riverside, setting up various tripods, waiting for the sunrise on the river before the typhoon.

The wind is blowing. It seems that everyone has something to like.

I know how terrible typhoons are. I have experienced many typhoons over the years. But if you ask me what I have experienced, I can’t tell you. It seems that there is wind and rain. It seems that ups and downs are just the most insignificant part of the life we ??face every day.

I remember too little about typhoons.

The only thing I remember is that before a typhoon came, someone asked: "Are you okay?"

Another time, there was not a typhoon, but a heavy rain. Someone reminded me: "Try not to walk in the rain to prevent electric leakage."

It seems that all the bad things have been forgotten, only the warm bits and pieces are always remembered. In fact, forgetting and remembering are both commemorations.

Although there was wind, the weather was still muggy and there was no coolness in the morning.

Looking out from the balcony, the sky is as dark and very low. There are no vehicles or pedestrians on the road, and only various sign lines are clearly visible. I think this silence, if it were in ancient times, would not indicate that a super typhoon is coming.

A group of municipal gardeners came to the community early in the morning. Some were sawing branches of trees, while others were beating sandbags in low-lying areas. They had been busy all morning with the gusts of wind and rain.

The husband came back soon and bought some fruits. He also said that branches had fallen to varying degrees on the road and asked us not to go out again.

Before the disaster strikes, I actually want to see what the world is really like.

Do they all have the same reverence for nature, the same calmness, and are some still satisfying their own desires more or less?

I also particularly want to see those people who are still facing the wind.

But I am definitely a good citizen, and I will definitely not be the person who still walks on the road in bad weather.

Satellite cloud images show that the wind is moving a little bit, and the wind’s eyes are getting closer and closer. The redbud trees by the window began to dance enthusiastically and began to receive the drizzle of rain. Eventually, they became a mess, completely lacking their usual splendor.

What dances more enthusiastically than the redbud tree is an epiphyllum beside the balcony.

A few days ago, I discovered that there were many embryos of flower buds growing out from the ends of the leaves of Epiphyllum epiphyllum. I picked up the branches on my tiptoes and counted six of them. Counting the days again, I knew that she should be here for the Mid-Autumn Festival.

It has only been two or three days now, and the buds are getting fuller day by day, with a slight sense of tension, as if they are accumulating strength.

Yes, in the coming days, on a long leaf, a flower that is bright enough, white enough, and blooming enough, as full as the moon, is indeed necessary. of strength.

But now, she has to sway in the wind and rain for a while, bumping and swaying, and is soaked. I think she must be frightened and excited. She must know that she is facing a long-planned event. breakthrough.

If there is a breakthrough, the flowers will bloom for a long time.

But she drove in the middle of the night, in the darkness, at a moment where no one could see her.

I think the blooming of epiphyllum should be the most purposeless. Just like when the wind blows, the reeds follow the wind.

Thinking about it, over the years, I have waited many times in the middle of the night for the epiphyllum to bloom, sometimes one or two, sometimes three or five, and the most at one time, ten flowers bloomed, all on or around rainy nights. It was all in the dark night, under my watchful eyes, maybe the storm and the vast dark night were her fate.

On the days when the flowers are blooming, if one day I forget to wait for her and climb into bed early to sleep, I will only remember that the epiphyllum should be blooming when I open my eyes the next day.

I ran out quickly, and all I saw was a wilted flower. The petals have long been closed, and there is no trace of fullness or beauty of blooming flowers. The appearance reminds people of an old woman's breasts. So I feel distressed, pity, and regret.

When the wind blows, the reeds will follow the wind, and my eyes are filled with the need for deliberate adaptation; the flowers bloom, but I don’t hear them, and my heart feels as if I have missed a vigorous love.

The wind is blowing, and I can’t see the reeds at this time. The wind comes from the ocean, bringing only rain. It's like walking on the beach. The weather is sunny, but it often rains from time to time.

I have always believed that the sea and the sky are one, and they are also one with the clouds. As much as there is sea water, the clouds will gather and fall as rain. This is a natural flow.

The wind was blowing fiercely at this time, so I sat by the south window and wrote. With the windows open, you can see the direction of the wind, the face of the raindrops, the backs of the leaves, and a little bit of nature's temper towards humans.

The wind outside is strong, reaching Level 10, and it is entirely possible to reach Level 12. For the first time ever.

Various videos and pictures in Moments show violent storms and chaos everywhere.

I heard the wind roaring, neighing, whining, babbling, sweeping past, swirling, lashing the trees outside the window like a whip, hitting all the buildings, window sills, and occasionally There will be the sound of items falling from high altitude. My heart is broken.

No matter how the wind blows, it cannot blow off the thin green leaves on the branches, nor can it blow off the flower buds hanging on the branches. The power of life is really powerful.

As long as you pack lightly enough and have inner concentration, everything is safe, even in wind, rain, blood and tears.

It’s just that the wind never comes in through the south window, and even if you want to get more coolness, it’s really a waste of the effect of the wind.

This wind is really here to destroy.

The wind is blowing, and it is called "mangosteen". It comes and goes quickly, like a short-lived love.