The flowers follow the breeze,
The grass that just sticks its head out,
As if the earth was breathing rhythmically,
The houses in the distance are misty and smoky,
Can' t tell which is a flower and which i
The moon shadow casts infinite silver threads,
The evening breeze mixed with the smell of hot soup,
The stream is microwaved,
There is a bridge over the creek,
looming, smoky,
crystal clear,
Like patches of green misty ocean,
Watching the outside world carefully,
Bend it now and then,
The long branches on the side of the bridge hang in a string,
As if singing the symphony of spring,
attracted a dazzling group of butterflies,
danced lightly,
Standing in the left and right rows of realistic robots wearing maid costumes,
Naughty blowing little bubbles,
sometimes lift it up,
The mountains are rolling up and down,
into the stream,
rter of an hour,
Pieces of green in different shades,
There is a small stream beside the lotus pond,
He bent slightly, and at the same time whispered: Welcome,
The flowers are fragrant, the petals are fluttering,
like a paradise on earth,
Solanum nigrum, Ryan followed Croton to get off,
The sound of rushing water is clear and pleasant,
The wind caressed all kinds of flowers and plants by the stream,
look around,
Underwater small fish swaying gracefully,
like a mirage,
The entrance of the saloon on the 1st floor.