Describe elegant prose and appreciate Listening to the Rain?

People stand under the eaves, or lie in ancient houses, listening to the rain beating on the tiles rhythmically. The chill came quietly from all directions, and I was vaguely disappointed. The following is what I brought to you for your appreciation.

Guishan listens to the rain

I have long wanted to climb Guishan and look for the beautiful prayers I once left on Guishan.

That was more than twenty years ago. I was studying in Shangzhou at that time. On the weekend, a group of classmates met and boarded the then South Qin Guishan. On the mountain, my classmates asked me to write a poem and make a wish, especially a few young female classmates. Finally, everyone wrote a so-called poem and made a wish. I don't know the wishes made by my classmates, but my wish to "succeed in my studies and earn more money to honor my mother" has become a touching topic for everyone, and I have also been suggested by my classmates to seal this grand wish under the ancient trees in Dayaling, Guishan, so that Qingshan can testify and ask Guishan to bless this ordinary wish for an early realization. But the very next day, I got a call from my dying mother. When I rushed back to Feng Dan's hometown with tears in my eyes, I cried and said my wishes to Kameyama's mother in front of the bed, and her mother smiled on her bloodless face. It may be timely treatment or filial piety, and my mother miraculously walked out of the gate of hell. As a result, my mother took a fancy to the TV bought by her son and put on the new clothes bought by her son. For so many years, Kameyama has become a sacred place in my heart. But people are so strange. The more they have in their hearts, they often look at it from a distance, guard it and think about it. Guishan is always in my heart, not at my feet.

Guishan Mountain is not high, not as tall and straight as people think, but it rises like a giant turtle, looking at Danjiang and protecting Shangzhou. Turtle Mountain is not steep, but it is often shrouded in purple haze in Wei Yun, where water flows and birds peck incense. On the one hand, it is a beautiful leisure resort for nourishing the heart and eyes. This is a sentence I wrote in my diary last night. I wanted to use this to keep my friend's appetite, so I went up the mountain with a few confidants. I didn't expect to get up early today and didn't want to disturb my friends on weekends, so I left alone.

Looking at the newly built Qingshi Road in Guishan, I really want to turn my dignified steps into a long ruler, measure the hard work of Shangluo people over the years, and measure whether the beautiful Guishan has grown taller or shorter. Walking like this, stepping on the mountain road paved with bluestone bricks, at this moment, the texture of the earth and the aura of Guishan gave my feet a sacred sense of affinity and awe. With my gentle steps, how can I measure the human history of the barren thorns in Guishan in the past, and how can I measure the rainbow flying frame, the pavilion on the balcony, the clouds with flowers and birds on the mountain, and the pines and flowers? I kissed the soil and the fragrance of grass in Kameyama, and boarded Kameyama Square in one breath. I looked up to the north. On the winding Tongjiang Avenue, vehicles and pedestrians are crawling like ants, and rows of buildings are bathed in the summer sun, which is extremely magnificent. At this time, it is wonderful to comfort the dandelion beside you with affectionate eyes, feel the magic, calmness and magnificence of Guishan with the tentacles of the soul, and appreciate the barren hills in memory with gratitude. Now, ordinary people's leisure resorts and ecological paradise are so wonderful!

The sky suddenly changed face, and it began to rain while walking. Stormy, misty fresh water around the city, hazy bluestone steps, mountain roads and pavilions in the rain, like a poet's plain and graceful poem, become classical and romantic in the rain. Looking up suddenly, I saw a familiar face. She is an acquaintance I often meet in London. Although I don't know her last name yet, I always feel kind and warm when I see her. Her thin face, especially her eyes, if I were in a dream, I would jump forward and jump into her arms. I miss my mother so much that I don't give her an absent-minded look every time I see her. She smiles at me sometimes and is very happy. I smiled back at her. I don't know what she thinks of me, but I know why I lose my temper every time I see her. The rain suddenly became heavy. Perhaps my gaffe surprised the old man, and he fell in front of me. I rushed forward to help the old man with a sprained right foot. Fortunately, he reached the bottom of the long corridor within a few steps. After the old man sat down, I told her that I had worked in a pharmaceutical factory and knew some treatments for falls and injuries. In this way, like my mother, I magically rubbed my sprained foot for the old man and saw tears gushing from the corner of a puzzled old man's eye. I forced a smile and pulled me and her family up with the sound of rain. It turned out that the old man's home was at the foot of Guishan Mountain, but now it is a good time and a good life. Guishan has also built a park, which has become a good place for old friends to cultivate themselves and exercise. I didn't expect to go up the mountain early this morning and catch up with the rain. I accidentally fell and met me.

When I told the old man about my mother and the wish I made for her here more than 20 years ago, I was surprised to find that when I rushed home to lie in the hospital bed, the old man had the same expression on his face as my mother. Suddenly my mind went blank, and the emotional gate could no longer stop the tears buried in my heart. In this way, on Guishan, an old man and a young man, a pair of tears for a pair of tears, performed a true feeling and affection. This is really providence! If I hadn't climbed Kameyama, how could I be so lucky to meet my living "mother" in Kameyama, where I made a wish. If it weren't for Lu Yu's living "mother", how could I have such a strong sense of happiness? This is our ordinary people's Kameyama, and this is our ordinary people's Kameyama.

Kameyama Mountain in the rain is very beautiful. Rain, gentle as fog, soaked the green feathers of Guishan. The newly built bluestone road has become whiter inadvertently. The humid air is mixed with the fragrance of plants, which is refreshing. Pine leaves whisper in the wind and rain. Everything is so refreshing and harmonious. However, it rained in Guishan and left in a blink of an eye. The sky is especially clear after the rain, and the air is as clean and fresh as filtered, especially those small flowers and grasses that have just been baptized by rain, emitting a faint fragrance, and the whole person is immersed in deep breathing.

A crisp bird song flashed across the top of the head. Looking inside, several clouds as white as snow quietly climbed to the top of the mountain, and Guishan was as refreshing and pleasant as a beautiful woman who had just bathed. Birds in the bushes are also very active, twittering like laughing and singing. Suddenly, two sparrows flew towards me and mumbled something. Distracted, the sparrows stood on the opposite branches surrounded by green, snuggling together like a pair of lovers. That expression and sweet cry make people feel indescribable envy. Be more careful, there are several pairs of birds on the branches not far away, calling where two sparrows flew just now, oh! Under the newly-built gallery in the opposite park, there are several young men and women snuggling together. At this time, I suddenly realized that birds are human beings, and birds also learn to date in this fresh environment after rain. How harmonious and beautiful people and birds, birds and people, and people and Guishan are. Guishan, Guishan, I don't know how many lovely creatures are gestating and how many birds are building new homes. It is no wonder that since the opening of Guishan Park, a number of small groups have emerged in Shangluo photography circle to watch the Danjiang River and shoot birds. No wonder many friends who have climbed Kameyama Mountain say that there are many crisp and tactful birds singing in Kameyama Mountain.

Facing the lush Kameyama Mountain, I am thinking that Kameyama Mountain, which has become the home of birds, must be an ecological leisure paradise for Zhoucheng people, especially after the rain.

Guishan listens to the rain, in the raindrops, the soul sublimates in the cleanliness, and the thoughts fly in the blue sky.

Listen to the rain in the bamboo forest

Bamboo shakes the shadow cloud cage yarn, and the deep water in the forest is soft around others. Listening to the wind singing the moon without silk tube, the rain broke the soul and the dream fell. -inscription

Dense rain, pattering across the sky in April, washing the lush. Fine raindrops, stepping on the dense, fall from the gaps in the leaves, turning a piece of spring into a cool green. In the fresh air, the shallow wheat straw fluttered, and the smoky season quietly faded the quiet dream. The cold fingertips touched the coolness of the raindrops, and my heart couldn't help getting wet, as if it filled the sky with rain, comfortable and cozy.

Follow a flute, walk into the bamboo forest in the rain and listen to the rain. How to make the green of bamboo tips fall in April's wheatgrass and sing softly? How to sweep the bamboo forest with the breeze and let thousands of bamboo branches dance together? Listen to the rain, how it ripples in the lush and deep bamboo shadow, and how it rhymes with Zhu Tao? How is it that in the faint bamboo rhyme, it is full of dark fragrance, so that the feeling of jumping is climbing?

Such as the sound of water flute, stepping on the beautiful and lingering string rhythm, against the dreamy sound of Zheng, it is as quiet and delicate as dreamy porcelain. The gentle and clear rhyme, accompanied by the faint, transparent and beating rain, comes slowly from a quiet place and flows through the softest corner of my heart. The voiceless sound of "the bottom of the flower is slippery" is natural, which makes people ethereal and pure.

I have been trapped in this soft and ethereal rhyme for countless times, and my thoughts are flying with the lingering sound. Let yourself fly with fragments of feathers, through the mist woven by the curtain of smoke and rain, and hold a finger of raindrops, which is as cool as jade. Into the depths of the verdant and quiet bamboo forest, watch the wind and bamboo gently drag, dance diagonally and clear the shadows, and shake the dew clouds. Full of green on the lush grass is covered with bright and clear raindrops, like falling stars all over the sky, each of which reflects green and greenery.

I have thought about it countless times, how to find a shallow bend, cross the world of mortals, and stand in the bamboo shadow of the dense forest in the wind. Let the flowery thoughts stay away from the lush, without a trace of fireworks. Along the winding path, walking in the mottled green shadow of bamboo, washing my thoughts clean, breathing a faint fragrance, holding a finger leisurely, salvaging the glory of the years.

What a pure and pure heart it is! Those empty and quiet greens, like a pool of clear water, linger in the green-washed bamboo crevices, and the sound of running water ripples, Lv Yun. In the depths of the misty bamboo fragrance, I listened attentively to the breeze, stirring up the gentle murmur of bamboo leaves and the crisp jointing of goose yellow tender bamboo shoots, as if the rhyme of bamboo words was clear, crossing the Tang and Song Dynasties, sketching a wisp of ink fragrance in the shady bamboo forest, circulating a faint fragrance.

Listen, the falling raindrops are stepping on tiny steps, accompanied by the flowing Qingxi. Slight rain and blue sky, the ticking of bamboo tips, leisurely knocked out a green word. Crystal clear rain plucked the strings of bamboo leaves and sang to them. Fold a bamboo, snap your fingers to clear the rhyme, and let the flute stir countless tiny words in the soft melody, dancing lightly and dancing with the wind.

I wonder what it's like to be a woman in plain clothes. Her eyes are like water, her temples are like clouds, she sits in the depths of Shaohua, her heart is like lotus, she holds the jade piano obliquely, her eyebrows are beautiful in a low voice, her sleeves are swaying, and she plays with both hands, playing a beautiful and indifferent rhyme.

Think about how tall and handsome it is, folding the fan in Tsing Yi, looking indifferent, a wave of ink painting blue heart, just waiting to wear clouds, travel in the sky, feel with your heart, your heart is like running water, a wonderful pen gives birth to flowers, and overnight, a simple and exquisite bamboo shadow with clear words.

Think about how green and deep it is, full of faint fragrance, lush, bamboo shadows swaying, green shadows fading, green is Ying Ying, branches are swaying lightly, leaves are high and quiet books are high, bamboo knots are lightly described, and jade color is cool in the wind.

Think about the bamboo outside the Xiaoxiang Pavilion. Is it because you put rouge on it that you can clear your tears? In the middle of the night, do you wander around the bamboo shadow in that shallow sigh? The sound of rain is falling, does it provoke loneliness, empty notes, and full of thoughts and feelings? In the sound of the piano, is it facing the mirror, and a glazed heart walks through the ethereal outside the world of mortals?

Listen, the rain beads and the wind gently touch the bamboo leaves, and slowly drop down the path covered with bamboo leaves along the cool green, and make a soft and rustling sound when stepping on it. I remember a saying, "If you don't listen to the leaves beating in the forest, why not sing and walk slowly?" . Bamboo poles and sandals are more dexterous than riding horses. What's to be afraid of? A misty rain is a lifetime. "In fact, listening to the rain in the bamboo forest is just a yearning, a state of mind, an inner peace and clarity. Feel elegance and quietness in the thin and straight bamboo joints, feel indifference and humiliation, and feel leisure and casualness in your heart.

I want to walk into the depths of the bamboo forest with the sound of the piano, grab a handful of condensed flying green, and brew a cup of fragrant tea with the wind, so that the rhyme of the piano and the fragrance of green tea will fade away all the troubles and complexity in the bamboo leaves. Play the piano and sing softly, listen to the bamboo rustling and feel the bamboo rhyme. Invite bamboo to enjoy the moon, sing with the wind, watch flowers bloom and fall, and taste the fragrance of bamboo shadow tea. Leaning against the bamboo, whispering to the moon, telling the mood of a prosperous time in the joints of the bamboo, the feeling of being indomitable in the face of the wind and clean after the rain.

Listening to the rain in the dead of night

It's raining hard, petals are dancing, and lotus flowers are crying. What a pity. I shake everything with my fingers, use the shower as ink, use red as a sign, and the fragments become flaws.

There was a gust of wind, and it was a little dark. When the summer rain caught us off guard, it planted plantains in a sad attitude in a lonely heart. Look at the lotus leaf as if it were covered with mercury. Rain destroys flowers, flowers follow the rain, and wind and rain surround people like wicker. The rustling rain is exposed on the lotus leaf, as if listening to a soft piano music.

Leaning alone in the porch window, staring at the rain at night, those beautiful words on the Internet come to mind, reading the fragrance of your empty valley, the exquisiteness of your graceful lyrics, and the soul of Nalan Xingde. I will indulge in the smoke of these words tonight. Think about those gentle words, think about those words that have just been conceived and have not been written yet, and think about those words that break your heart. It is inevitable that my heart is sad, no one answers the phone, my worried heart begins to be wronged, and my tears burst in an instant. I think raindrops are tears flowing silently in my heart, and the ticking of rain is my unspeakable sadness.

Some people say that rain is nostalgic. If you are a nostalgic person, please listen to the rain quietly, let it wash away your inner fatigue, your troubles and all the past, and you will find a fresh you. This dancing rain fills my heart with poetry. Falling raindrops are exposed on the ground like umbrella flowers, one umbrella flower after another, opening the clear sky one after another.

On a rainy night, I am looking for someone who can read me, just like looking for light in the dark. What I expect is a kind of spiritual care. I don't want to be vague, I just want to get a response, as if someone tapped on Chai Men and infinite spring poured into the garden.

Listening to the rain, listening to the rain this summer, can not be expressed, can only be understood.