I could smell the spring in the air.

A year's plan is in spring
Hope, hope, the east wind is coming, the footsteps of spring are near.

Everything looks like they just awake up and they open their eyes joyfully。 The hills get clear, the rivers rise, and the sun blushes。

Grass secretly drilled out from the earth, tender, green. In the garden, in the field, look, a large area is full of. Sitting, lying, playing two rolls, kicking a few feet, running several times, and catching a few times. The wind is quiet, the grass is soft and soft.

Peach, apricot, pear, you will not let me, I will not let you are also growing flowers. Red like fire, pink like clouds, white like snow. Giving off a sweet fragrance; close eyes, on the tree as if already full of peaches, apricots and pears. Hundreds of bees were buzzing down, and the size of the butterflies flew and flew. The wild flowers are all over the ground: miscellaneous, name, no name, scattered in the grass, like eyes, like stars, and blink.

"Blowing the face is not cold, willow wind," good, like the mother's hand touch you. The wind brings some new scent of the earth, the taste of the grass, and the fragrance of all kinds of flowers, which are brewed in the moist air. The birds nest in the flowers among the leaves, cheer up, show clear throat together, sing the songs to gentle breeze and flowing water. The piccolo cowboy cattle back, this time also all day long loud ringing.

The rain is the most common, and it is 32 days. Don't be annoyed. See, like, like a flower pin, like filaments, dense underground, people on the roof of the cage with a thin layer of smoke. The leaves are bright green, and the grass is green to your eyes. In the evening, there was a light, a little faint light, and a quiet, peaceful night. In the countryside, on the road, stone bridge, supporting people who take the umbrella, there are also some farmers in any bamboo hats. Their houses, sparse and sparse, are silent in the rain.

There are more kites in the sky, and more children on the ground. In the city the countryside, every family, old and young, also in time like, they come out one by one. Shuhuo shuhuojingu, dousou brace up, do a different thing to go. "A year's plan is spring", just the head, some work, some hope.

Spring like a baby, from head to foot is new, it grows.
Spring is like a little girl, dressed, smiling and walking.

Spring, like a strong young man, has an iron arm and waist, leading us forward.

Author: Zhu Ziqing