Mountain of memory

This is the only reason that mountaineer George maloli gave why he wanted to climb Mount Everest. I like the mountains, but it is not as vigorous and persistent as George, and the courage to give life at any time. What I like is a kind of light, like a pencil sketch, giving up that layer of bright color. There is often a scene in my mind, walking alone on a path in a remote mountain lazily, with the sunshine shining through the dense branches and shining stars, the sound of the stream hitting the stone was crisp and vigorous. Find a lawn, lie down, close your eyes, the whole person will feel extremely relaxed, a kind of touch from the heart, perhaps, you will think of someone, perhaps the closest person, maybe it was the kind I hated at ordinary times, but my heart was quiet and I fell asleep silently. This scene emerged countless times, where the mountain is, where the village is, where the childhood memories are. Just like a lightning passing through time and space, it is so clear and dazzling in the dark night sky. There is a kind of feeling that I am obsessed with and reluctant to part with, just like my father’s experienced hands who are full of ravines. Maybe one day they will be in great vicissitudes, but the lingering memory is a kind of eternity, beautiful and tall and straight. In the deep night, I was alone. Under the dim light, I lit a cigarette and went back to the past through the thin smoke. From tomorrow on, be a happy person, chopping firewood, feeding horses and traveling around the world. The childhood in my memory was that happy person, but we didn’t need to chop firewood and herd cattle from tomorrow. We also traveled around the world. The mountains at that time were our whole world. A group of childhood partners, holding their own cattle, walked into the mountain. Looking for a dense meadow to let the cattle play freely, leaving their parents’ vision, a group of wild children like crazy started their own practical jokes. We will chase each other the shadow of the old elder who is pulled by the sunset glow, we will carve our own name under an old tree, and we will pee farther than anyone else, we would secretly run to another hill and steal a bag of oranges from Lao Zhang’s house… Children in the mountains, the world outside the mountains, at the beginning of the dream, carry a bag to find the dream in their hearts. From a city to a city, the pace of progress did not stop, and the prosperity of the city and the streets with loud instruments gradually faded away in the flow. That mountain and that village can only be remembered slowly in the dead of night. Of course, there is also the old well that has moistened generations. Cutting trees, ploughing fields, spring and autumn, life in the village seems to have never changed, life may be very hard, but I have thought about that kind of life, this idea has always remained in my mind, perhaps the fundamental reason is that the mountain is there, and that attractive old well is there. Like (prose editor: prose online) change the way to continue to stay with this city I went out at 6 o’clock in the morning and came back at almost 8 o’clock in the evening. From beginning to end, I only welcomed myself with silence; Since I went to college, on weekends… [Original essay] string words Since winter, the sky is dry and the snow is misty. The whole earth is desolate and empty. Whether your mood is like a year, or… Forever military dream Forever military Dream (Ma Xiaochun, Kangle county, Gansu province) memories are like meteors, passing through the unmarked and blurred eyes, and the outline gradually… Spring rain I like spring rain like everything on the Earth. Just after the new year, the sky began to rain. I really like the spring in Jiangnan… Plucked the snowflakes of Dreams (modified) Near the new year, the first snow fell. I was surprised to read a long scroll in the morning, the white one is snow, and the gray one is tree… Self The fashion is transient, and the style is permanent. Things that can shine on others may not be put here. In…