Old house, listen to the rain

The house is very old, so old that several generations of people have passed away. There is also a long crack in the top of the corridor, like the mark carved by the sword of time. Every time my eyes drift by, I always feel the desolation. In the quiet time, some irretrievable past is buried in the dust in this deep courtyard.

It’s just the beginning of summer. After several days of high temperatures, the temperature has dropped back to the previous level. During the sudden ups and downs, the blooming roses have withered one after another, as if they have experienced a period of exhausting love that suddenly ran out of energy. All the enthusiasm was gone, and when I looked back, all the beauty was blown away by the wind, and my appearance suddenly became old. Only low-temperature love lasts forever, and the fleeting years of heaven and earth are always broken, passing quietly, guarding the dullness of each day.

On a sunny day, move a chair and sit under the jujube tree and read a book. The fragrance of the plants in the air is intoxicating. I remember that in March, it rained mistly, and the fine jujube flowers fell all over the ground, and also floated into the teapot. I brewed it with boiling water, which gave me a unique taste. In my opinion, all the flowers, plants, branches and leaves in the yard can be used for tea. Drinking tea in the old courtyard is to meet and stay with time.

In the rainy early summer, the old house is very charming, and the air is full of poetry. It is an ordinary scene, but I love it very much. No matter how miserable the reality is, there is always a beautiful heart, that is. There is nothing to fear. Half a life has passed, and the most beautiful scenery in the village in spring, autumn, winter and summer has also been hidden in the passing of time.

To listen to the rain in the old house, you need a cup of tea to cope with the scene. Green tea or white tea is swaying, and the tender and enchanting leaves exude fresh air among the plants. Standing holding an umbrella, the rain is cool, the branches are covered with rice-like jujubes, pigeons, rabbits, and chickens are peaceful in every corner, but they care about each other.

Living in a yard, every plant and tree, wind and rain, morning and evening, morning and evening, are all like water passing by. Flowers bloom, people come, and the sunny blue sky is just a fleeting moment. between. Summer is here, and the old house has become popular.

Plant a yard of flowers and plants, as well as vegetables and fruit saplings. Carefully nurture them to grow, water and fertilize them, bask in the sun, and provide shade, as close as a child. In fact, without human interference, they absorb sunlight, rain and dew, and grow more luxuriantly.

I like rain, and I like to walk with an umbrella in the rainy season and be in a daze. It seems that the rain falling from the sky is the passing years, and in this peaceful day, it has returned in an uproar, clinging to the tips of my hair, floating across my eyelashes, and the transparent sadness has passed silently.

The night gradually dimmed the last hours of the day, and the rain fell freely in the darkness and jumped to the ground, making a pattering echo. I like it to be lonely, tenderly moistening the soil, and quietly tiptoeing to dance solo in the sky.

The weather forecast has been showing continuous rain recently, and I feel joyful for no reason, because on rainy days, the old yard also has the water vapor from the south of the Yangtze River, making it a little more delicate and lingering. On rainy days, we should learn to cherish blessings. When the old house is rebuilt in the future, I am afraid that no amount of rain will be able to dampen the old charm of the past.

You can listen to the rain in the old house, watch the lotuses under an umbrella, and let the crystal clear water droplets fall into pieces on the lotus leaves in the fields. You can also sit beside your bed and meditate, listening to the water drops falling in pieces on the curtain. Every drop of dust falls in my heart, and time becomes old in an instant, several times older than the old house. Late at night, I flipped through a few pages of a book and hid in the noise of the rain. I thought about the past. If I had time to look back, I would listen to the rain carefully and listen to the gurgling water flowing past me.