Joke Collection Website - Bulletin headlines - I found a cicada in early winter.
I found a cicada in early winter.
Maybe it's dead, just hanging on a tree to bask in the skin. In the early winter wind, it falls to the ground with yellow leaves.
This is a kind of cicada called "Independence" in my hometown. It is gray, green and yellow. It has two big eyes and a pair of thin tentacles protruding from my forehead. The straw is close to my body, and my six legs are still in a grasping position. The two big "lung leaves" hanging on my body indicate that it is a male cicada, and the shriveled belly and tail are still full, but they are shriveled. A pair of big transparent wings on its back once helped it fly in the bamboo forest, looking for a foraging partner.
Maybe it lived in the dark underground for three years or more, climbed out of the cave on a rainy morning, escaped the turtle hunters all over the world, climbed up the trunk in the shortest time, molted, dried its wings and flew away quickly. Followed by six months of sunshine singing, sucking tree juice, avoiding natural enemies, falling in love and enjoying the happiness of living in a hurry and tension. Until Qiu Lin continued, it was difficult for people to resist the cold of the years. It is still singing its last song with its life. The piercing cries echoed in people's ears, intermittent sad songs were dying, and the wind was dying, drying the body.
This morning, it fell with the fallen leaves.
I put it on the inkstone of my desk. The inkstone processed by machine is not expensive. Because it is made of stone on Helan Mountain, it has the same dignified gray-black color as Helan Mountain. Because it has heard "Sounds from All Sides" and because it has seen "Lonely Sunset Thousands of Miles Away", I just recited it thousands of miles, not for writing.
Now, I put this cicada on the plum blossom carved on it, and the color of cicada blends with the color of inkstone. If cicadas have souls, they will not be afraid in this protective color; If Mei knew that this cicada was chirping in the long summer, I should admire the cold plum that blooms in the cold winter and early spring and has never seen bees and butterflies flying.
In the warm sun in early winter, I heard a faint whisper of an inkstone, a plum blossom, a withered cicada, a cup of green tea and an ancient book. ...
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