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