A passage describing the winter in my hometown

1. In winter in my hometown, the fields are covered with a thin layer of frost. Through that thin layer of frost, you can see the hard land below, hard and cracked. The newly unearthed wheat seedlings in the field are so timid that the original green leaves have obviously been labeled with their own unique labels in winter, like the frozen face of children in winter. In winter, the sound in the field is even stronger, which makes people who walk alone feel scared. The trunk has no ground, but it is swaying with the wind, like crying and dancing wildly.

In winter in my hometown, the evening is filled with warm breath. Compared with people's breakfast, dinner is eaten early, and you can see the smoke curling up at dusk, which is so soft and light. Occasionally, children laugh. Children are fearless when playing. They were just scared by their grandparents. They always follow behind with clothes on their arms, angry words in their mouths and kind smiles on their faces. No wonder the child is disobedient. Dogs bark from time to time. I don't know whose footsteps touched its sensitive nerves. It is touching to think of the unique loyalty of its guardian.