the real taste is only light ." Quietly walking to the last leg of senior three, I still don't know whether this period of joint efforts is bitter, sweet or light. Then, let me make you a cup of green tea on this dripping morning and invite you to taste this journey together. Tea into the water, three points into bitter, as the pulse of smoke curled up. One night at the end of the summer vacation in the second year of high school, I stood on the roof of the apartment and saw the lights in the , "Hey, senior three, I'm here ." I have come to accept the long-cherished night sleep of "The East is not clear, the clothes are reversed" countless times, to accept my and our night lit by orange and yellow lights, to accept joyful and sad falls and stand up again and again. Wang Xiaobo said that it was the golden age of my life. I wanted to love, want to eat, and want to become a cloud in the sky in an instant. However, after all, I want to see the tired eyes behind the high pile of books and the test papers that the snowflakes usually send away and fly. In senior three, what I tasted was an unforgettable hardship. The tea is soaked in water, the rotation rises, the leaves stretch slowly, and gradually fill up as the amber tea returns to the wind and snow. In the commemorative book, a classmate wrote that the real strong is not a person who dares to do things he likes, but a person who dares to do things he doesn't like. This sentence, half is helpless, half is growth. The 18-year-old branch is green, but it has not yet developed bright red and deep purple. The 18-year-old shoulder is not strong enough, and the third year of high school is the best training and reward for us. Think about it, this year, although there has been a fragile body, but such sincere, faith-like efforts, so the first time to face the dream of the bloody struggle, it is the determination and growth hidden in bitterness. In senior three, what I tasted was an unspeakable encouragement and happiness. Tea lying under the water, quiet and gentle, is silent fragrance, quietly blooming in the air. Bing Xin said that love is on the left, love is on the right, walking on both sides of the road of life, sowing flowers at any time, so that pedestrians who wear branches and brush leaves can step on thorns without feeling pain, there are tears to fall, but not sadness. Counting the third year of high school, I suddenly found that when the day of "release from prison" that I had been looking forward to came, we were more attached and unwilling to give up. I miss the pink notes that we volunteered, the clouds that were carefully glued to the blackboard and lined up with a color, and the lively and happy New Year's party, I miss that day when we sang and danced and laughed, our cheeks flushed ...... Hao Ba, even if there were too many hesitation and too many setbacks and frustrations in the past days, it was, after all, a time of hard reading and excellent quality. We shed tears, we laughed, we grew up. In my third year of high school, what I tasted was a youth and hope that I could not give up. Maybe it is bitter, but is it a bitterness seeping into the fragrance? Maybe it is plain, but it is not a magnificent plain? Taste it, feel it, appreciate it, like a newly brewed tea. Many years later we think of it again, we will stop, we will shed tears, we will smile like flowers. After liking so many poems, in the end, I still love this word. Egrets fly in front of Mount Cisse, peach blossoms, squid fat, Qing Ruo, green clothes, slanting winds and drizzle do not need to return. This is the word "fisherman" by Tang Dynasty poet Zhang Zhihe. The first understanding of it was in the primary school Chinese textbook, and the Song Dynasty poet Wang Anshi "Yi Jiangnan" selected together. At that time, I loved to read this word. At that time, I didn't know what artistic conception was. I only felt catchy, rhyming and remembering like the lyrics. I haven't forgotten it since I memorized it. I think this word is really well written and can be remembered naturally and never forgotten. How many gorgeous poems are so decorated that they bend their teeth and praise them naturally, but only a few people can approach them. In the spread of culture, more is needed for this concise but dignified and beautiful poem. How many people have discovered the charm of ancient prose in this simple poem, and how many people are interested in further study. Mount Seth, I don't know where it is. Only by imagination can one picture scroll after another be built, imagining those beautiful and colorful. It was the spring of April, peach blossoms blossomed one after another, and pink clouds decorated the hillside of Mount Cisse. Such a beautiful pink peach blossom, like the blush on the shy cheeks of a young girl who is in love, can't help but love. On the top of the clouds, there are a few white inlays. It turned out to be a few frolicking Egrets. At the moment, they flew down from the air and made a short stay on the ground. They strolled in the flowery peach blossom forest, leisurely walking with long red and thin legs, moving from under this tree to under that tree. .
EGRET's white and Peach Blossom's pink set off each other, adding a little charm. Suddenly, the white dragons flew high and headed straight from the peach blossom forest to the blue sky. They lined up and flew further away. Those wings fluttered their arms, which shocked the peach blossoms on the branches and added more colorful ground. After the spring rain, the river rose and overflowed the old river bank. The river seemed to be much wider. It is the squid swimming back and forth in the water. A few of them got together as if they were playing, while others were quietly standing there as if they were staring blankly. It is said that the memory of the fish is only seven seconds. What can it do in a daze? The water flow on the river is not urgent. The peach blossoms rolled by the wind float on the water and rise and fall, giving some fun to the fish below. It's raining. Spring rain is always so tender and sweet that thin rain falls from the sky and is blown into an oblique rain curtain by the wind. It is said that spring rain is like cow hair, and it is true. Although it is dense, it cannot hinder people's journey. You see, the old man fishing on the other side is still sitting steadily. He wears his clothes and takes a good fight. He still looks at the river with a calm expression. He must know that the spring rain here will not disturb his fishing and there is no need to rush home. In the slanting wind, in the drizzle, the peach blossoms in Mount Sisai are still crimson, but the egrets do not know where to fly ...... I also don't know how many squid were put into the fisherman's bamboo basket today ...... I really want to blend into this landscape and be the fisherman. Let the wind and drizzle, the flowers bloom and fall, and finally find the ease of life in the rotholes of Mount Cisse. The ups and downs of the outside world and the prosperity of the world are not as good as living in this mountain, staying away from the hubbub and returning to the true nature. I will always remember such a picture, the peach blossom is as red as a glow in the distance, the breeze and drizzle here, and the fishermen have never left ...... Quiet night, the dark blue sky is like velvet, gentle and mysterious. There was a plate of moon in the air, and the moonlight was gently sprinkled on the trees, between the windows and on my face. The light Moonlight poured down, and the night wind gently brushed my quiet face. The tears that were too late to wipe dry still flashed with crystal tears, and the mood was difficult to understand, all I know is that this is a bitter taste. After a lot of experience, no one in my heart can ignore it, as if God ignored me. I can't choose the way forward. Only the Moonlight is with me, and the earth gives me sustenance, candlelight drew me a quieter atmosphere. The candlelight is like a bud, quietly floating in the dark night, especially elegant and beautiful. At this moment, I seem to have another partner-memories, looking back at the road I have traveled, rugged, bumpy, even some places still have traces of my fall when I walk. Birds fly by, what color is the sky, I walk by, and what color is the road. In the face of God's injustice and secular prejudice, Oh, I need an umbrella. The past and the future overlap gently, and my bitter tears also add up. When life strikes me again, the star has you as the beginning of my dream. In the month, you are the sustenance of my emotions. Rain, you give me peace of mind; Luo Hong, you gave me the courage to face failure. After repeated failures, I am no longer the girl with lofty aspirations. My heart is now occupied by despair. The moonlight like mist outside the window gently walked into front of my thick green window and threw a quiet smile at me. The fog of childhood disappeared, leaving the moonlight like dreams now, gently crushed in my tears, Jiao Jie and bright. It is like a foot lamp on the stage, trying to illuminate me and show me. Moonlight, Moonlight, don't you know that you only illuminate my crystal tears? .