March wind prose

I like sitting on the lintel of this time, watching the drizzle outside the window and listening to the birds humming affectionate whistles; Or take a small umbrella and walk in the alley, watching the little red buds of Chinese rose flowers under the drizzle. Taking this warm clip with your mobile phone, putting it in your heart and putting it in a group, will also bring out a lot of sadness and slowly forget the sorrow. Holding a bunch of flowers in your hand, let the plain days be painted with a touch of poetry.

How time flies! Fortunately, there are words, poems, friends singing with each other, and photographers cheering hand in hand between points and lines and light and shadow. However, the most important thing is that there are still many beautiful things worth waiting for and looking forward to. Slow down in the real reality.

Through the gap of time, some thoughts bloom in the brow of the years, lingering for a long time, such as youth, military camp life in youth. No matter in Yichang or Shayang, or later in Xinyuan, Xinjiang, the war friendship is warm and warm, as fierce as a flame, as moist as a spring rain, inspiring people to spread their imagination and enrich their content. I always think that this plot is connected with time and ambiguous with love, which can make people's memories shine again. So in my spare time, I joined the comrades of the Sixth Company, the enlistment of the Seventh and Eighth Army, and the Shayang Farm Group. Listening to the warmth of a group of southern accents means listening quietly. When you are happy, you can also catch a few words from Trump, slowly change your identity on your avatar and ask people and things you used to know. This is good, and it can make your youth reverberate again.

The March wind, embroidered with the incompleteness of winter, pulls the distant Minshan Mountain in the clouds, and the top of the mountain is covered with silver makeup. However, the fields in the western Sichuan plain have already exuded the fragrance of spring. I want to laugh in spring, and the buds on the branches look bright and charming in the sun. The photographer is close to the flowers, so there is no need for enlarger lens. The wind in March blew the top of the mountain in Lei Yu green and dyed the banks of Jinjiang red. My heart danced with the wind, but I was reading Yan Shu's words in the Song Dynasty: the threshold chrysanthemum was sad with smoke and blue tears, the curtain was light and cold, and swallows flew away. The bright moon doesn't know how to leave sorrow and hate bitterness, and shines obliquely through Zhuhu Lake. Last night, the west wind withered the trees, and I went up to the tall building alone and looked at the horizon. Want to send a colored note and a ruler, where do you know? "This has nothing to do with the current situation. Maybe it's his age. At this moment, you should be in a happy mood. The birds in the tree have already called, waking up Peach Blossom and Li Bai. The yellow color of rape blossoms in Minjiang River is like a flowing bay of gold. The tender green willow branches are hidden in the wings of hope and germinate quietly. With this stone road and fine mist rain, towards the distant? ……

The rain is getting smaller and smaller, and time flies. Maybe some beautiful imagination is fleeting, but many memories still exist. Just in the Tianshan comrades-in-arms, the comrades-in-arms sent their own two watercolors in the summer. The whole picture is the color of spring, and the intoxicating fragrance is everywhere. The vitality of the picture is very infectious, just like the season in front of us, and the fragrance is eternal. When people calm down, they will give the mind a quiet pure land, be honest and sincere, and sing songs under the wind and rain.

Enjoy life quietly, give happy time and wait for a pure land of the soul. It has nothing to do with romance and seasons, but a kind heart, a grateful persistence and a courage to face life.

Recently, I often think that if I hadn't met Peng Yongfu's comrades-in-arms, I wouldn't have known about Liulian Group. If I hadn't built a six-company group with the hard work of my comrades-in-arms (group owners) in Jiang Baojun, could we help the big shots and the soldiers and dolls of that year get in touch? Our company commander, platoon leader and instructor want to thank the group owners for meeting each other in the network. This grateful plot changed from passive to active. Without them, I won't write those wonderful times lingering in the depths of my memory in a quiet afternoon, nor will I portray my initial youth over and over again in a soft corner. How many forty years have I lived? When today's reunion becomes a beautiful fate, I know how to cherish it and make this brotherhood more dazzling in my lifetime. As long as our dreams are still there, we can chase young flowers, and we can stand quietly on the threshold of time, watching the spring rain outside the window moisten things, and the spring breeze comes in March.

That night, I was exhausted. I know that I am a member of Liulian, and I open WeChat every day. In fact, I just want to listen to the voices of my comrades and see their smiling faces.

"Donation", everyone is donating money for Comrade Zhao Yong, Zhao Yong, what's wrong with him? My heart is pounding. I watched it with him years ago. Isn't it good? I am busy typing and ask:

What happened to Zhao Yong? Are you sick? Is it serious?

I learned it from the news in the group. Comrade Wu Shaohua answered me.

I think some donated 50 yuan, and some donated 100 yuan. Because my mobile phone doesn't have a bank card, I quickly checked my red envelope balance: 7220 yuan. It's not much, but donate it all first, and then make plans later.

? Everyone gathers firewood and the flames are high. I know I don't have much effect, and I may even be laughed at because I have a 20-point tail, but I know I am a member of Liulian Group. Laugh, don't live in the eyes of others, because this is all about my WeChat. Kindness is the heart, kindness is good, don't think too much. Where there are comrades-in-arms, there must be wind traction and emotional concern.

? Writing, the sky began to dim, but I was still waiting for a flower to bloom on the keyboard. I don't know when the rain stopped. White clouds are floating on the top of the mountain, and the mountains are shining in the distance. I stood on the balcony and bowed my head. Imagine another me, who can step on the hit point of the song. It is best to pick another bunch of wild flowers and give them to the deepest years and lost years, and to persistent kindness. You are here, and I am here. This is the joy that years have given us. Those thoughts, those poems written on colored paper, have gone far and far with the March wind. Years are old, but the friendship of war is still there. It is so lush and moving, just like the spring when I was young. At least, I think so.

Birds sing in the forest, and streams flow in Ming Che. The story of March is a wisp of night dew stained from the heart, which walks with the wind, and then plants grow at jointing stage until hundreds of flowers bloom, and a mountain and a ridge are extremely clear. Some plots become more and more heavy in gentle time and become indelible marks in the journey of time. March always gives people hope, light and warmth. It's windy in March ...

The wind in March blows the green Jianghan Plain, the mountains in Jingmen, the small bridges in Dangyang, the ancient towns in Shayang and the rich farms. The life of the company, the pride of youth. The love between comrades-in-arms, hidden in the depths of time, has been deeply embedded in each other's lives since the day they were assigned to classes. Spring goes back to spring, and flowers bloom and fall. That love is always warm in my heart, without any distractions, and we all make progress together. This kind of love always spreads its branches and leaves when it is lonely, and it is sad in the depths of the soul. From young to old, the warmth of my heart always spreads quietly in the years and ripples forever. Someone asked: What is this feeling?

This feeling has been haunting me. Who folds the quilt for you, arranges the epaulettes for you, comes back from visiting relatives, and has an old mother at home? The longer we fight together, the newer we are, or moved, or nostalgic, or indifferent, which is an answer to love. A thousand words, hidden in my heart, you know me, intimate. Because of deep affection, so no regrets, because of responsibility, so forever. I have always believed that there is a kind of love that will be integrated into life with the passage of time. Even if I lose myself, I won't lose you. Your image is engraved in my bones and reflected in my mind. Spring melts willow, summer is colorful, autumn sinks white clouds and blue sky, and winter hides snow-colored icebergs. In the face of hurried time, the friendship of war is always like the blue and white flowers on the other side, blooming beautifully by itself.

March wind, accompanied by drizzle, gently falls on Nalati, moistening Tianshan Mountain and embracing youth. The chill in the north makes the room seem to have no flowers, but the hearts of comrades-in-arms are full of love. Deep in the mountains, we forge ahead in unity, the vegetation is fragrant, the willow branches are sprouting, and the family is in love with flowers.

In the blink of an eye, the teenager became bald and he was not young in his dream. Speaking of peach blossoms, he is shy, so beautiful in youth and picturesque in friendship. Cut a military camp life, the coldness in the lush years. I met you in Tianshan Mountain, starting with a smile.