Suzhou alley composition

Suzhou alley, like a water lily on a sansheng stone, is quietly parked and often blooms in my heart in a trance. ...

Walking in the alleys of Suzhou, the adjacent brick houses, shops with wooden doors and streets paved with bluestone at the foot are all quiet. Pedestrians passing by are in no hurry. The street is not neat, the gray-black corrugated wall glows green under the sunlight, the lower edge of the white powder wall often leaves children's handprints, footprints and graffiti, and the bluestone road meanders away under the embellishment of patches of moss ... so simple.

However, that tranquility and calmness will often erase the impetuousness and noise in my heart.

Tired of walking, there will be cries of selling in the alley: "Ah, I want to buy tofu flowers." The word "ah" is particularly long, rippling in the alley. At the end of the alley, a peddler with a wooden bucket is coming slowly. When you walk past, he will open the wooden cover and cotton pad on the bucket, and a white heat wave will rise in Ran Ran. The stall owner scooped up a spoonful of tofu pudding with a spoon, which was white and tender, making people's appetite big. He put tofu in a porcelain bowl, sprinkled some chopped green onion, shrimp, laver and mustard tuber, and a bowl of delicious tofu was made. Pick up the porcelain bowl and eat slowly beside it. The peddler doesn't rush you. You eat yours and he does his own. After eating, I handed the porcelain bowl back to the stall owner, and the voice of "Ah, I want to buy tofu flowers" floated deeper into the alley.

The alley is very long. Outsiders walk into alleys and plunge into them, but they often can't get around. I turned around and saw people chatting in the alley, speaking soft words like sweet words, which made people listen with relish and could not bear to interrupt. Someone will take you out of this winding alley after the chat.

The alley is very quiet. But you won't be bored when you walk. Holding an oil-paper umbrella, walking in the alley with light steps, stepping on mottled mossy floor tiles, counting the square slabs under your feet, wandering in the long rain lane, with gentle words in your ears. ...

Camphor trees are planted on both sides of the street in the alley, and Ye Er is swaying gently with the wind. From time to time, a piece falls, which makes people feel that the days are like the veins of this leaf quietly extending, plain and meaningful.

I was born and raised in Sri Lanka, and the warm and pleasant alley that permeates my heart every year has settled in my heart and hidden in my dream.