Wild chrysanthemums on the cliffside of Zhang Shulan
Wild chrysanthemums on the cliffside of Zhang Shulan. Chrysanthemum is a plant that we often see in our lives. Everyone has different feelings about chrysanthemums. The same, so the descriptions of chrysanthemums are also very different. Below I will share the wild chrysanthemums on the cliffside of Zhang Shulan. Zhang Shulan’s Wild Chrysanthemums on the Cliffside 1
The wind is coming, and the autumn wind is coming day by day. It blows over the mountains, across rivers, through ancient villages, and falls on a cluster of trees on the cliffside. On the bush of wild chrysanthemums.
Clusters of wild chrysanthemums are piled up on the edge of the criss-crossing cliffs, like a group of naughty dolls, playing on the brows of the mountains and singing in the embrace of the cliffs. Then, the mountain seemed happy and the cliff seemed to wake up. Large clusters of randomly assembled flowers danced lively on the cliffside, squeezing next to each other, nodding frequently, twisting their waists, pushing me and shouting, performing a grand performance with the wind. Musical dance party. This dance started at the foot of the mountain, stretched out like waves, and spread layer by layer until it filled the entire mountain. The whole mountain is connected like this, with ups and downs, continuous twists and turns. Her body was covered with golden and yellow, deep purple and deep purple, golden and deep purple dresses. They were rippling, rolling and flying, making the mountains that had been rich all summer bright and colorful. Flying. The mountains have become plump, like a young boy who has turned into a mature man with rich connotations. Is this the meaning of the autumn wind?
Yes, the ever-changing posture of the wind makes spring flowers abundant, summer flowers lively, and autumn flowers quiet and beautiful.
If you don’t believe it, just look at the wild chrysanthemums growing on the cliff. One after another, plush, tender yellow and light purple. The small flowers stretch freely, and the petals form a circle around the stamens, tightly united, like a group of twin sisters. The bright yellow flowers are blooming side by side in every corner where they can grow, blooming their own style to the fullest, blooming into their best appearance wantonly. In the gaps between crops, on the edges of orchards, in fields, along roads, in ponds, creeks and rivers, these tiny, scattered flowers are all swaying. Some people stopped to look at her posture, while others watched from a distance and marveled at her beauty. But more of them are driving in deep valleys where people don’t know, but they are still driving like crazy. It is open to the blue sky and white clouds, singing together with the birds in the forest, and intoxicated with the clouds and mists in the mountains. How quiet and beautiful this is. They do not compete with the flowers, but bloom in the season when the flowers are withering. They bloom before the snowflakes dance. How elegant they are. Wild chrysanthemums bloom quietly, peacefully and leisurely. It is extremely elegant, the kind of elegance that can make your heart peaceful just by looking at it.
The stunning blooming of these wild chrysanthemums is related to her nature of being unconcerned and happy-go-lucky. Just like her seeds, they are carried by the wind and carried by birds. As long as they touch Saturn, they will take root, sprout, and thrive. It is so simple, natural, and otherworldly. She does not have the wealth of peonies, the elegance of lotus, and the enchantment of roses. She is just casual, casual, indifferent, quiet, and dust-free. It is the kind of peace and calmness that drives calmly in the mountains and sings quietly in the wind.
I like her ordinaryness, her ordinary way of being neither humble nor arrogant, neither striving nor seeking, and her calmness in favor and humiliation and the tranquility she brings to people's hearts. Then be a wild chrysanthemum and bloom calmly in the late autumn wind. Wild chrysanthemums on the cliffside of Zhang Shulan 2
A gust of autumn wind came, with a bit of coolness. Unknowingly, uncle came to us during the Mid-Autumn Festival. Looking up and looking out, there is a withered and yellow scene in the field, and the grass has begun to lower its pointed little head; the hair of the big tree has been dyed yellow, like an old man, and his hair keeps falling down. . The leaves on the tree are like a girl, spinning and dancing gracefully in the wind; they are also like a group of naughty children, playing around, some falling into the arms of Mother Earth and being carried away by ants. Sunscreen umbrellas; some fell on the river and were picked up by fish and used as surfboards; some fell in front of tree holes and were picked up by squirrels and used as quilts...
In While wandering around the mountains, I accidentally discovered a few inconspicuous wild chrysanthemums among the weeds on the roadside.
They have colorful and tender petals. You see, the red ones are like the little flames beating in winter, warming your heart; the white ones are like the floating clouds in the sky, pure and flawless, and like the little snowflakes in winter, crystal clear. ; The yellow one is like the glittering gold, blinding your eyes; the blue one is like a charming enchantress, public but not enchanting... Sandwiched in the middle are the dazzling stamens, which have been hidden in the deepest part of the flower, like a Shy little fairies didn't want others to discover their beauty, so they hid. The stems of chrysanthemums are bright green when they are first born. As time goes by, the color of the stems becomes darker and darker, and finally turns into dark green.
I once heard from my grandma that chrysanthemums are very useful. They can be used to make tea, clear away heat, detoxify, and reduce inflammation...
I remember one time, my friends and I were playing on the road. , I accidentally fell and screamed in pain. When grandma found out, she ran over like an arrow from a string. When grandma saw me, she was as anxious as if a disaster was coming, like ants on a hot pot, anxious. Looking around, my eyes suddenly lit up and I found a cluster of chrysanthemums in the grass. They were scattered in the grass, shining like stars and blinking like eyes. Grandma immediately picked up the material on the spot, stretched out her hand to grab it, and squeezed it hard. The juice of the chrysanthemum flowed into my wound, and the wound was much better.
Isn’t the spirit of silent dedication of the chrysanthemum worth learning from?
I would rather be a wild chrysanthemum that gives selflessly without asking for anything in return.