Summer Night

                              Summer nights     

        are the hottest and most vibrant of the four seasons. Spring is the time when all things sprout; summer is the time when all things grow; autumn is the time when all things wither; winter is the time when all things lie dormant. Therefore, summer is the most prosperous and vibrant, though it lacks the blooming flowers of spring, the fragrant fruits of autumn, and the snow-covered landscape of winter. Yet, its intense liveliness excites all things even more!

　　When the sun softens its harsh rays, weary birds begin to return to their nests, and the world seems less bustling than before. A gentle breeze rustles the leaves, as if saying, "The sun has finally set, it's so hot!" Everything seems more energetic than before, no longer listless. Even the grass stands tall, bidding farewell to the setting sun. Even the clouds on the horizon change their attire, becoming colorful and vibrant, as if celebrating the world's escape from the heat.

　　When the moon rises, the world comes alive again. The sounds of people and insects never cease! People stroll and chat on the streets. The insects, not to be outdone, joined in a grand chorus. The wind, not to be outdone, kept causing a ruckus, sometimes tousling hair, sometimes billowing clothes. The children were the most boisterous, chasing and playing, their laughter echoing. Even the stars seemed captivated, blinking incessantly, as if envying their merriment, or perhaps wanting to join in.

　　 As midnight approached, the outside world remained bustling. The moon, seemingly drawn by the lively atmosphere, gazed down upon the world, never leaving its sight; the insects, as if enjoying the festivities, chirped excitedly. The mosquitoes, in particular, were the most excited, hovering and buzzing around people. Mosquito coils were lit, fans were on full blast, and hands were ready to pounce! Yet, the mosquitoes seemed like mortal enemies, utterly disregarding their own lives, seizing every opportunity to bite! It was infuriating, yet there was nothing one could do but passively endure it.


         Summer isn't beautiful, yet I love summer! It lacks the vibrant energy of spring, the desolate chill of autumn, and the biting cold of winter. But I love summer, and I love the beauty of summer nights even more.

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Never try to stop someone who wants to leave.

      You must understand: you can't keep someone who wants to leave, you can't wake someone who's pretending to sleep, and you can't move someone who doesn't love you. If he misses you, he'll contact you; if he wants you, he'll say so; if he cares about you, his true feelings will show; if none of these things happen, then you don't need to bother with him. Actually, you can sense who likes you; you can also sense who you like, whether they love you back, and whether they care. Sometimes, as smart as you are, your foolishness lies in habitually deceiving yourself. You made promises you shouldn't have made, and persisted in things that weren't necessary.     Love can't be forced. Let go of those who can't enter your heart; turn back from worlds you can't enter. If the tea is cold, don't add more water; it won't taste the same. If someone leaves, don't try to keep them; it won't feel the same. If the love is gone, don...
Read more

Even if they are not relatives, they can still be close.

      There is a kind of touching feeling called warmth.     It was a low, dilapidated, and neglected Russian-style house, less than 20 square meters, built in the 1950s. The house was dark and damp, the walls were cracked and loose, and the furnishings were tattered. The only slightly modern element was a black-and-white television with a blurry image, which had been its companion for the rest of its life. Xu Fengying, 92 years old this year, lived in this house, as old as herself. Twenty years ago, her husband passed away, and without children, she struggled to survive on a meager monthly allowance of 300 yuan.     To provide for this lonely elderly woman, Wang Fenglan, a kind neighbor living less than 100 meters away, offered her a helping hand. In the freezing winter, she helped the elderly woman light the stove for warmth; in the rainy summer, she helped repair her house; when her clothes were dirty, she washed them; ...
Read more

Bookmarks of Time

  　　Not far from home, there's a small river covered in lush grass. 　　In my childhood, I loved to read by its banks. In the early morning, the mist would bathe the river in a dreamlike glow. I would be bathed in the morning light, splashing through the water, finding a small stone to sit on. Holding a book, I would be completely content. When I grew tired, I would lie down, watching the pale blue morning mist gently kiss the river, listening to the soft, mysterious whispers of nature. I would close my eyes, take a deep breath, and the fragrance of rice, flowers, and the fresh scent of earth would permeate my very being. A gentle breeze would pass by, and a few petals would drift down onto my warm cheek, too delicate to brush away. 　　Suddenly, a boy's figure would come into my view. 　　He always seemed to happen to be there when I was reading. The occasional startled birdsong would tell me he was coming. His footsteps would grow closer, striking a chord in my heart. Strangely, my...
Read more