Weekly essay

Memory is the sail of missing
There are always some unforgettable things in life, some unforgettable things, and some unwilling to give up. Or left at a ferry, or disappeared at a platform, or blurred in a page of books. After the baptism of the years, they were sealed up one by one, framed into books, forgotten forests, endless scenery, and dim the door and window of memory. Once again, when I gently buckled, I suddenly remembered the story of that summer, or the love song in winter, and gently twisted the time, opening up the past and spreading the sail of memory.
Memory is the sail of missing, east, west, north, south, and all directions. it is the most beautiful thread of heaven. Beautiful scenery as beautiful as flowers and pure as gold. one by one, I am at the end of the bridge, beautiful at the end of the bridge, crossing the rainbow and decorating the water town in my memory. Perhaps it is the smile of a sea of flowers, or the faint wisp of smoke curled up from the kitchen chimneys, will be warm and drunk.
Life enriches time and colorful life because of missing. because of remembering, life knows how to cherish it. therefore, I like to twist flowers into ink and dry the old stories on paper one by one. although there is " little hate when books are used", I still carefully record them and let memories travel for thousands of miles.
The memory is always very beautiful. the scenes are still remembered. in the woodpile and wheat field, groups of people play rubber bands, shuttlecock and hide-and-seek ... it seems that it was yesterday's event. It is also like an ancient story. it's just that we have tea and chat together and gossip after dinner. I miss the past when the sky was pure blue and the air was warm and fragrant. we were clear and simple. everything was simple and simple. Aluminium for wine tours? …
However, the real bone feeling is the old tree of time, which is somewhat jagged. even if the wind is light and the mood is light, it is only the renovation of the old version. Did not wake up, is already dusk alone sorrow, although there are lingering, is also a story of gradually moving away, there is the deep feeling of thousands of water Qian Shan, finally submerged in scattered trivia; Finally disappeared in the surging tide; Hidden deep in the thick memory of words.
Looking at the lost sun and moon, I look back and think that the present world is stable and the years are quiet. I want to talk to the past time, talk, chat, and have a double-paddle ferry ride with memories. my thoughts take the moon to read the past, I remember sailing again, think about it, how much to read it, leave a letter for the past time, leave a line of traces for the past years. I only wish I would not forget it and not lose it.
Never leave, remember; No sorrow, no hatred, no longing to drive. Time before, shadow after, holding a wisp of blue silk to put on record, following one's inclinations, breaking up the past carefully, gradually changing it into winding fingers and gentle, taking a little time to calmly, taking a little wind and light cloud, taking a quiet walk, smiling, wishing only that the story of the past was still Shui Yunjian, or the initial memory, we are still years, that simple child.
Let the heart move with the wind, the wind move with the mind, walk slowly along with the fate at will, make a cool grass and a flower, green hillside fields in spring; Summer to wash dyed Jiangshan picturesque; Qiu Li maple red countless acacia brocade; The fall of Mei Xue in winter sets the mood for sansheng stone. As the seasons change, leave slowly, look back gently, and go away. let's go. take it easy. memories are still good. Let the memory be free with the wind, floating with innocence at first sight, sailing up, carrying thoughts to sail away!