Accompanying my father to Huichuntang for diagnosis and treatment, I arrived in Tonglu at noon, the slight spring breeze blew softly, sparse clouds wandering in the sky, sandwiching the slightest dampness, as if tangled in the hazy sky, appearing more tranquil and serene, the whole The air appears to be spotless, conveying the message of spring. After a while, the silky spring rain fell into the embrace of the earth. Pacing in the quiet and elegant river embankment, the continuous drizzle rubbed his face. As soon as the spring equinox arrived, I felt that there was still a hint of coldness, a hint of sweetness, and a breath of moisturizing spring.

From the hotel by the river, through the window, the scenery on both sides of the Fuchun River is unobstructed: the affectionate and light green branches, the bridge across the river in the distance under the rain and fog, the unknown flowers blooming in the rain on both sides of the river, just like in the hazy Pieces of rouge are enchanting, flawless, and exudes an elegant fragrance. Holding the tender spring green, I can't help thinking of Zhang Zhihe's "Fisherman's Song": "The green robe, the green robe, the wind and the drizzle will not help. I have to go home." I couldn't help but make ripples in my heart, watching the fishing enthusiasts who forgot to go home in the slanting wind and drizzle on the river bank, the picture of leisurely fishing reflected in the beautiful spring scenery, that kind of beauty The mood is vivid in the chest. The sound of dripping and dripping rain came from outside the window, and Tang Yin's "When the plum blossoms are cut, the rain hits the pear blossoms and closes the door": The rain hits the pear blossoms and closes the door, forgetting youth, and missing youth. "It is also the best explanation for the feeling of spring rain. It is the kind of infatuation, sadness, and the sound of the rain hitting the flowers in the closed door and the window, and can't help but write the inner emotion vividly; Disappeared like this, just wasted like this, and released a deeper parting lovesickness.

Although the Song Dynasty monk Zhinan said: "I want to wet the apricot flower rain, the willow wind will not blow my face." He wrote the artistic conception of walking eastward with a cane, and the red apricots all the way. It is better to make a pot of tea alone and sit at the window. Before, I slowly enjoyed the romantic comfort of the spring rain "moisturizing things without sound", and realized the lingering sorrow and sleepless feeling of Wen Tingyun in the Tang Dynasty: "A leaf, a sound, the sky drops to the bright". Watching the spring rain slowly unveiling the hazy veil of spring, and listening to the sound of raindrops beating on the glass window, just like in Han Yu's "Light Rain in Early Spring": "The light rain on the streets of the sky is as smooth as crispy, and the grass looks close but there is nothing." Not exactly like a picture scroll like a verse? Isn't everything that appears in front of the eyes when the weather is sunny after the rain just like the smoke of willows, and the spring is bright?

The pattering spring rain, silent and silent, contains the rolling red dust in the world; it contains the soul that springs all things and washes everything, thus unveiling the prelude of spring and playing the melody of the song of spring.

(General Manager Office Ni Hong)