Chapter 40 a bird flew away again

When my son was young, every time he made a noise, I picked up the phone and dialed 117 to listen to him. 117 is the time telling station, which will continuously broadcast the time every ten seconds.The son was very curious, and stopped crying as soon as he heard the time signal. A long time later, when he listened to the time report, he asked me with a puzzled face: "Why do the birds on the phone fly around, sometimes there is one more bird, and sometimes there is one less bird?" I took the phone to listen, and the microphone was playing: "The speaker below is 11:5:50... The speaker below is 11:6:0..." It turned out that my son heard "second" as "bird", Isn't it very strange that "five birds at 11:50 and zero birds at 11:6"?When I was thinking about it, my son snatched the microphone away and said, "Dad, you have been listening for so long, and a bird flew away again!"

Every time I think about the preciousness of time, I think of this past event. Every second in my life is a precious bird, which keeps spreading its wings and flying away, like egrets in the sky. The saddest thing is that every bird does not belong to me, and every bird cannot be kept.