Memories of the beautiful scenery of the lake

Memories of the beautiful scenery of the lake

Everyone has something unforgettable in his memory, but different people have different deep memories, and some people will never forget it because of some scenic memories. Share with you the beauty of the lake about memory!

The Lake of Memories In those years, the memories of the past have long been silent in the Lake of Memories. Some casual things will ripple on the lake and finally calm down.

My sister said, "Because of you, I remember someone so clearly." But I smiled awkwardly, which was a powerless embarrassment.

Suddenly I don't know what to say, because elder sister, the person you remember, I can't remember her face. How ironic, once unforgettable people, have already disappeared without a trace in the vast sea of people.

If you don't mention it casually, maybe the memory will slowly precipitate in the dead of night. Looking back now, there is no such faint sadness, only a little emotion.

How many exciting people did we meet in those youthful days? In that ignorant season, there was such a blooming tulip in my life that warmed my youth.

Meeting is a kind of fate. It was August when sunflowers were in full bloom, so a blue tulip came into my eyes silently.

Some predestinations will slowly disappear in our world because of melodrama. Maybe it's naive, maybe it's because I care too much. So in those years, I worked hard and changed the pattern, so that the fate between us disappeared a little.

I woke up in that loud noise. It turns out that our acquaintance has become strange in my affectation.

Sadness, sadness and disappointment always come slowly after loss, and at the end of that fate, I learned to cherish.

Only to find that everything has long been in blowing in the wind, and no amount of words seem powerless and pale. And because of work, I have no reason to stay in this city, so I fled this remote town in a mess.

There are always few encounters afterwards, but in every encounter, the heart is always throbbing. After a long time, we still have contact, but we lack the topic of chatting. Before the Spring Festival, you said we hadn't seen each other for a long time, so we could have a good talk when we came back. But I don't have the courage to face it again.

Six years later, something is so strikingly similar that it reminds me of that story. Mention it again, but it has another meaning, but I didn't expect it to disturb your quiet mood.

I lost your contact information that night. The moment I turned on my cell phone and saw your message, I was frantically looking for everything, hoping to make up for my mistakes.

However, at the moment when I was awake, I was so calm that I found your face blurred in my memory. I just miss our past, or I just like the feeling that I used to like you. I just love my fantasy in my own fantasy.

Lake of Memories 2 In everyone's mind, childhood memories are always the most unforgettable. Childhood memories are like budding water lilies or beautiful daffodils. The fragrance is light but refreshing and unforgettable. In my memory, the most unforgettable thing is neither a person nor an event, but a moving scenery.

This is a small and beautiful lake in grandma's hometown. It's called Wanshou Lake. Standing there, the breeze hit head-on, rippling layers of ripples on the lake, beautiful.

The slim willows stand by the lake, swaying in the wind and dancing gently. Willow branches are so soft and light, like a dancing butterfly.

This picturesque scenery makes people feel very comfortable. The lake is full of flowers and green grass, which adds a bit of beauty and elegance to this exquisite scenery. The water level of the lake is like a mirror. The lake is so green and flawless.

I like the pavilion on the lake best, which is simple and elegant, perfectly integrated with the surrounding scenery and unique in poetry. There is a string of golden wind chimes on the top of the pavilion. When the breeze blows, the bells are crisp and sweet.

My sister and I often come to the pavilion and sit side by side. My sister's singing voice is sweet and high-pitched, and I also like singing in a gentle and crisp voice.

We cooperated seamlessly and sang passionately like two larks. Looking at the lake and listening to the sound of the breeze blowing on the lake, our songs are intertwined with the sounds of nature, producing natural music.

After singing, my sister and I will come to the lake and play in the shallow lake for a while, splashing crystal clear water on the lake.

The small fish will circle my feet clockwise, then play with my feet counterclockwise with interest, and then disappear into the lake with its tail wagged. When I come here, I always bring a small piece of bread. When the fish gather a lot, I knead the bread into powder and sprinkle it on the small fish.

They are always fighting for food. The big guy grabs the most fish, spits out a bunch of bubbles and swims away contentedly.

Those who didn't grab it, always slapped the small splash discontentedly, pouted helplessly and swam away angrily. My sister and I smiled at each other. If we come in the afternoon, we will play until sunset. At that time, the water was greener, the flowers were brighter, and the scenery was more beautiful against the sunset glow.

Memory is a beautiful color in the mind. And the memory of this period of time is a trace that will never be erased in my heart.

I haven't seen the moonlight for a long time. I wonder if this satellite disappeared by accident. Today is another full moon, and I am very happy. The genie asked me out for a walk, and I was gladly invited to take a walk by the lake.

The road by the lake is very familiar, and we have walked countless times. Every step and every floor here is so familiar and engraved in our memory. The weather is fine today, but there is no one on the road. Maybe it's too late.

Moonlight shines quietly on roads, lakes and fields, and white fog floats in the air, flooding the grassland and shuttling between mountains. Fog, light fog, is just a thin layer, light milky white, as if soaking everything in light milk.

Fog is layered and seems to subvert our visual laws. Things nearby are clearly visible, and the scenery in the distance is still there. This magical moonlight is the first time I have seen it. In the bright moonlight, the mountains in the distance are as clear and hazy as the lake at the foot.

The lake is small and elegant. I am visiting Dongting Lake by boat, and the vast lake is endless. The lake here is only the size of a pocket. It is as beautiful as a dream, as lovely as a fairy tale and as old as a myth.

There is no wind and the lake is as calm as a mirror. Occasionally fish jumped out of the water and landed in the lake, making a crisp sound. The sound rippled on the lake.

Only our figure walks on the road, and we quietly enjoy the gift of nature and the quiet moonlight. My heart is being baptized by nature.

There are some lights in the distance, which are fishing fires. That's a fisherman fishing. When night falls, take fishing gear, find a comfortable and quiet place to sit down, set the fishing gear, bait it, throw the hook into the lake, then light a cigarette and wait for the fish to bite.

Fishing here is probably a kind of mental mirror, a state of mind, whether there are fish or not.

I'm glad to have fish, but I'm also glad to have nothing. On such a beautiful night, in such a moonlight, sitting still is also an infinitely beautiful thing.

There are tourists taking pictures on the observation deck. They have professional equipment and want to take this beautiful scenery home. Although photos can show the silence here, they can't capture the panoramic view here. Video can show the panorama, but it can't show the silence here. The only thing I can bring back is the incomplete beauty here.

There is music in the square. I looked down at the music and froze. I saw the lights and street lamps in the square, plus the full moon and sparse stars in the sky, reflected on the lake.

You can't tell which of the two worlds is more real. The lake is swaying gently, showing a dynamic beauty.

Quiet, only the sound of the breeze blowing over the water. At this time, only frogs are busy. They are in the lake, in the water grass on the shore, singing their rough songs as if the world were theirs.

The world is still mine, and my heart will melt in the moonlight and the lake.