Like patches of green misty ocean,
The mountains are rolling up and down,
The stream is microwaved,
Underwater small fish swaying gracefully,
Naughty blowing little bubbles,
looming, smoky,
like a mirage,
As if the earth was breathing rhythmically,
danced lightly,
Watching the outside world carefully,
into the stream,
The flowers are fragrant, the petals are fluttering,
As if singing the symphony of spring,
There is a small stream beside the lotus pond,
Standing in the left and right rows of realistic robots wearing maid costumes,
crystal clear,
The entrance of the saloon on the 1st floor.
The flowers follow the breeze,
There is a bridge over the creek,
like a paradise on earth,
The grass that just sticks its head out,
Pieces of green in different shades,
rter of an hour,
The houses in the distance are misty and smoky,
He bent slightly, and at the same time whispered: Welcome,
Can' t tell which is a flower and which i
Solanum nigrum, Ryan followed Croton to get off,
Bend it now and then,
The long branches on the side of the bridge hang in a string,
The wind caressed all kinds of flowers and plants by the stream,
attracted a dazzling group of butterflies,
The evening breeze mixed with the smell of hot soup,
look around,
The moon shadow casts infinite silver threads,
sometimes lift it up,
The sound of rushing water is clear and pleasant,