What sentences describe the scenery in the south of the Yangtze River?

1, set foot on the green slate, listen to the deep bell, and walk through the long street in the rainy season. I never thought that there was a red paper umbrella floating by. I just wanted to see the moss-covered wall roots, the smooth and shiny stone steps and a blue face. Looking at the sky, the lead curtain is crumbling, the wind blows down raindrops at first, and how quiet the ancient city should be in the ticking rhythm. Raised eaves and hanging tiles make the raindrops converge into a clear stream and fall from the front. Looking at the rain through the rain curtain, I don't know whether the clear rain stimulates the nerves that have been sealed for a long time or the natural light of the stone wall, and everything becomes pure. All this seems to be a lingering meaning in ancient times.

2. The scarlet paint on that door is beyond recognition, only a few parts can distinguish bright red, but the door is still plastered with "double happiness" that has already turned white, and the wind gently blows the door, so the door gives a "squeaky" laugh. In the dark room, an elderly woman sat with a needle and thread in her hand, sewing clothes in her arms. Maybe it was like this many years ago. Because of this, the thin wrinkles on her clothes will slowly climb up her smooth forehead, so she has changed from a young woman to an old woman with silver hair.

3. The quiet wind blows all over the south of the Yangtze River, the sadness and faint cries of the old vines, the remoteness of the small bridge and the joy of the lotus leaf field. In these countless moments, Jiangnan has transformed into another clean world, and he summarized the outline of Jiangnan. Jiangnan, a sentimental paradise, has nurtured simple and kind human beings, whether it is the law of life at sunrise and sunset or the hobby of playing chess, poetry and painting; Whether it is exquisite and beautiful food culture or exquisite garden art, the unique cultural heritage of the water town is opening a window to the world, and a strong cultural atmosphere spreads all over the world.

4. If the night in Zhouzhuang in the south of the Yangtze River is a gentle woman, then the night by the Fujiang River in Suining is a young man full of masculinity. If the night in Jiangnan is a pipa to us, then the night in Fujiang is a fierce gong and drum!

5. In March in the south of the Yangtze River, it was drizzling. I don't know when it will rain in Mao Mao this afternoon. I like walking in this drizzle, which makes my skin feel the freshness and delicacy of soft rain. The freshness and lingering of drizzle make me feel natural, pure and transparent. I like to sit by the window and watch the wind and rain on such a drizzly day. It is like an elegant and elegant picture scroll. In the gloom, my thoughts are flying.

6. Sitting on the boat in Wu Peng, we either tell jokes to each other or listen to the friendly paddle sound of Wu Peng's boat. Listen, it's very rhythmic. "Bang, bang ..." Or we are all eating delicious white sugar in our hands, so we are very happy.

7. In front of me, this piece of red seems to be hovering. This is the culture of Jiangnan people! A quiet city will at least not disappear because of the existence of these red life. It is culture that builds Jiangnan, art that deepens Jiangnan, and emotion that perfects Jiangnan. Grandma said that paper-cutting needs patience, care and perseverance. The elegance of Jiangnan is forged by the delicate feelings of Jiangnan people, and it is the crystallization of dribs and drabs of cultural accumulation over countless years. She has her own feelings, her own personality and her own dreams.

8. Near the port of the island, looking at the other side of the sunny day, it has been covered with a layer of water curtain by misty rain, which makes people feel like they are in an island in the Pacific Ocean, and there is endless silvery white everywhere.

9. It's raining in Mao Mao, and lilacs seem to sway gently in the rain. The drizzle is like smoke and fog, sad and beautiful. Rain and fog condensed on lilacs, as clear as jade. Lilac rain can't be sealed, and water can't be sealed. Glittering tears slipped quietly, and my thoughts drifted away like lilac rain. A little disappointed, a quiet dream flooded into my heart with the continuous rain, with a series of ripples.

10, mottled walls have left marks year after year. Rows of houses are neatly arranged, and the eaves are slightly tilted upward, as if it were a beautiful smile. Faded red bricks and blue tiles are also vicissitudes. The mystery of the ancient town is elusive, but it seems that it can't resist what it has been buried for so long. It buried so many things that it finally couldn't hide anymore. It wants to talk, and it wants to tell the sky about the ancient and mysterious past one by one. ...

1 1, people are closer. After bathing with clear water, they feel relaxed. The grandmother who sells rice cakes warmly invited us to eat rice cakes. Brush oil and discharge. Delicious and delicious! We came to Zhu Mu store, the old man played bamboo and wood for us, and showed us the treasure. It's an eye-opener. At dinner, the old man made us two yellow cucumbers ... two strange families became very familiar in this ancient town.

12, I came to Anchang ancient town and looked around, as if I had gone back to the past. Look, the road paved with slate, the bridge paved with slate, and the pillars built with slate. If tourists are allowed to wear ancient clothes again, it is impossible to tell whether they are modern or past.

13, the ancient town, even the paths paved with bluestone slabs are so antique. Gorgeous high-heeled shoes collide with the bluestone, making a "bang" sound, but it sounds like a piano playing fairy notes. They laughed and ran, as beautiful as dancing sunshine on the city wall and dancing a gorgeous waltz.

But the petals are like her face and the willow leaves are like her eyebrows. She was born in an ordinary family in a small town in the south of the Yangtze River. She has a stupid father and a loving mother. She often wears a coarse blue cloth sewn by her mother and carries a boat to the end of the lotus pond. Picking delicate lotus flowers with her white hands. Her name is Mu Furong, but people call her a lotus picker.

15, in the evening, the sunset glow reflected the sky, covered with rosy clouds, and walked into the ancient street. Xia Guang disappeared into the sky bit by bit, and lanterns outside shops in ancient streets lit up the night one after another. Before nightfall, the ancient streets in the evening presented psychedelic beauty under the blue sky. Behind the shop is the river. The light seeps from the wooden doors and windows of every shop, illuminating the night river, reflecting the soft and classical taste and telling the unchanging Jiangnan for thousands of years.