Chapter 24 There is always the sound of frogs

When I was in the south, there was a low-lying meadow in front of my window. When spring came, it would grow a lot of grass and even bloom some small flowers, attracting some bees to buzz there with their golden wings. ground fly.Many children like to pick flowers or play some games they think are fun on the grass.Such a day is always very warm, because the sunshine, flowers and children are enough to decorate the spring beautifully and kindly, which makes people unable to help but be fascinated.But in May, there will be a series of rains, and the rain will wash the holly trees next to the grass very green, that kind of cool green, and fill the entire grass.So the children folded up small white paper boats with paper, came to the puddle in the grass, and set sail for their little dreams.

Only on moonlit nights, that piece of grass belongs to me completely.At this time, the night was sleeping peacefully, and a round of bright moon came to the puddle, reflecting the water so white.On the white water, suddenly there are little frogs who don't know where they came from, jumping up and down happily, as if they want to look at the moon from the water, or sit on the moon and let the moon float. Let it go.The little frogs are like children. When they are playing to their heart's content, they sit on the water and sing together.That is the inseparable frog sound in my life.I am used to reading and writing at night, so I love that window very much. The undulating sound of frogs can make my thoughts float and enter the depths of such a season.

But I don’t have the window of the southern country. The days of staying in Beijing are long. In front of my window, even if there is such a piece of grass, a cluster of green willows, and in the spring sunshine, there will be an apricot tree for decoration.But there is no rainy season in the northern country, and I can't see the children making paper boats.It doesn't rain until July or August in Beijing, that's when Sophora japonica blooms.The rain in Beijing will flow down the street with Sophora japonica, and the rain of Sophora japonica all over the street will make the whole day fragrant and fragrant, but even this kind of rain will not accumulate a puddle of water, attracting little angels. Frog, so even if there is a moon after the rain, she can't find a place to rest and freshen up in this fragrance.

I stubbornly thought, if the rain of sophora japonica in Beijing can accumulate into a puddle, such a clear and shallow puddle filled with the fragrance of sophora japonica, with a round of bright moon reflecting the water silvery white, like a group of angels Little frogs, they sing around the moon, how wonderful that would be.I often go out at night in Beijing after the rain, I think I can find such a place, it is under a certain window, and even in front of that window there is a student who is infatuated with unrolling a scroll, even by the water, there are still Barefoot footprints of children playing in the water.However, I didn't find such a place when I left. I think there is such a place after all, and I just didn't find it.

The moonlit night in Beijing is the time of prose for me. I perform dreams one by one on the keyboard. In the depths of my love, there will suddenly be a sound of frogs in a certain passage. The croaking of frogs, at the beginning, was shallow and low, lonely and far away, and gradually merged into the chorus of frogs, and it was getting closer and closer to my window, as if it was under the cluster of willows.At this time, people enter the past time in a trance, a heart in the brigade, a sudden heat, deeply moved by it.But when I listened intently and carefully, I found that there was silence outside the window, so quiet that I could hear the small rustling sound of the moonlight falling on the willow leaves, but there was no frog sound.Oh, at this moment, I feel deeply lost. It turns out that the sound of frogs originated in my dream, or in other words, it is the auditory hallucination that will never be wiped away.

Tonight in spring, it was like this again. I turned on the computer and typed out a piece of nostalgic text lightly. Before I knew it, there was a sound of frogs outside the window. It was so kind and warm, and it swayed the spring night The warm wind blows into my heart along the veins of emotion.However, I suddenly woke up, but it was clear that the silent night was boundless!One can't help but realize that that warm ray of love has turned into two cold teardrops, hanging on the cheeks like icicles.