In the spring, Mei has become a thing of the past.
Begonia flowers are also beautiful, but I only love plum blossoms. Love in vain, or just laugh at yourself for not knowing how to spend time waiting for one.
Busy for four months, busy people are all out of spirits. I often ask you, what's the point of being so busy all the time? Fortunately, this busy is not endless. Finally, I can relax to touch flowers and plants and eat tea. This slow pace is the ideal life I want.
A year ago, when I came to the flower and bird market, I saw a pot of plums full of bones. I asked the flower grower, when will the plums open? The flower grower said that if the weather was warm, it would open in about a week. Look at the plum tree looks good, so I bought it. If it opens during the Spring Festival, it would be "like plum shoots". Then I broke a branch and put it on the plum bottle that my mother left me. This plum bottle, I have never planted plum blossoms.
In order to make Mei open early, I turn on the air conditioner regularly every day to warm her. Looking at the flowers and bones on the tree from the green clothes in a slight red, I am full of expectations, beautifully said to the gentleman, this year can drink their own plum blossom tea.
However, after the New Year, the buds of a tree are still wrapped tightly and continue to sleep soundly, watching the plum blossoms blooming vigorously elsewhere will be in full swing, no matter how I call her every day, she just ignored.
After waiting too long, the hope will come down. Well, let her go. The strong melon is not sweet, and the strong blooming flowers must be not beautiful.
This early spring continued to rain for more than a month, so the rainy south of the Yangtze River makes people feel depressed.
When I woke up on weekends, the first thing I used to do was to open the door of the balcony and find that the biggest bud on the plum tree had fallen on the ground. It's windless and rainless. How can you fall down by yourself? I grieved and quickly picked up to cover her, thinking that although the flowers did not open, but there must be a hidden fragrance in the core of the bar. So, one petal opened the bud, petals stacked, I see that something is wrong, this is not plum petals ah, smell her, no aroma. I can't help laughing when I think of a white crabapple I planted. She is a crabapple, a red crabapple.
Looking back at the crabapple with buds standing by the window, I really can't tell what it tastes like. Begonia flowers are also beautiful, but I only love plum blossoms. Love in vain, or just laugh at yourself for not knowing how to spend time waiting for one.
Winter goes to spring, plum has become a thing of the past, crabapple blossoms in the second day of sunshine, full of branches.
Sitting alone in the secluded cage is my favorite picture. When eating tea, there are bamboo shadows outside the window, eating, like sitting in the shadows, this is what I want.
The tea room has been tidied up except for bamboo. Buying four pots of bamboo is a laborious task to move to a small balcony. Fortunately, the master who transports bamboo is so big that a person can barely carry a basin of bamboo into the house and move it to the balcony. When carrying the third pot of bamboo, the porter accidentally bumped into the vase on the tea table, and the vase fell down and fell to the ground from the tea table. With a loud noise, my heart sank and froze. Hearing the weak voice of the porter: Is this vase expensive? I just came back to God. But I don't know how to answer his questions.
This is the plum vase my mother left me. It's a very old vase with a few years'experience. It's the favorite of all my flower vessels. I don't know when and what kiln it was made in. Look at the body, about 30 centimeters high, tiny ice cracks dense, Morandi green glaze, painted with a few light white cranes. Its color and shape look so classical and dignified, and this is not my favorite factor, I love it most because it is my mother's beloved family. For me, naturally there is an irreplaceable sense of kindness, so its price in my heart is supreme.
But what should I say then? I complain? Am I angry? I don't think this is what my mother wants to see. She has always been an open-minded person. Look at the hauler's nervous expression, slowed down the God I pretended to say lightly that nothing is wrong, not expensive, and buy another one.
Four pots of bamboo are finally planted properly. The bamboo curtain hangs down. The bamboo fragrance outside the curtain drifts into the house with the wind. Bamboo accompanied by tea is indeed a great enjoyment. The tea table was replaced with a flowerpot, but in any case, there seemed to be something missing. If you mistake Begonia for plum blossom, you can plant it again if you miss it in the coming year, but if you lose something, you will never be able to return it.
When I have tea with you in the evening, I make a light comment: people can't be trapped by things. I can't help sighing. You don't know how much I missed my mother at that time.
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