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In my memory, there was a large vegetable garden. Around the garden, there is a ring of golden sunflowers.

A thin little girl, sitting on the ridge of the field, looked up at their own small face, sunflower smile.

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Sunflower persistent and warm smile, reflected in my young heart, even if winter comes, it seems to be able to feel the warmth.

In autumn, sunflowers one by one mature, one by one peel off and eat. Warm and fragrant sweet, lingering in the lips, permeate the heart.

As we grow older, the blooming sunflower fades in our hearts. We have the chance to know more flowers, but we don't have the chance to eat fresh wet sunflower seeds.

Everything in the world comes at a price, even if it's just a hobby. Because of the seeds, I think two beautiful front teeth, unfortunately become half.

A writer died of cancer and launched a huge online memorial. The sunflowers gave many beautiful flowers without thinking.

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Looking at the endless sunflowers on the screen, my mind was locked in the garden of my childhood, as if I saw a ring of golden sunflowers in full bloom.

There is no second flower in the world, the love of the sun, so persistent, so persistent, so silent, so single-minded, from the beginning to the end of flowering.

There is a small garden in front of the bedroom window. I planted a lot of sunflowers. Blooming season, sitting in a daze in front of the wide floating window, as if back to a carefree childhood.

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At night, it drips like ink on the canvas of the sky and seeps through. A few strokes with the pen, and you'll have stars, and then you can stroke them a few times. The soft moonlight will shoot into your heart.

The light of a firefly is as warm as a star. The cricket took out his violin and played a beautiful waltz with the wind.

The stream flows slowly, like a conveyor belt of time, little by little. Even at night, the flowers give off fragrance. The fish in the pool spit out a bubble, a beautiful dream.

The sky began to rain, one after another, bright to the point, beautiful and sad, as if they were tears of the sky.

This is the sound of flowers; The bright moonlight is soft petals; The twinkling stars are the litmus of the flower, the flower of the night.

Gently close the curtain, so as not to disturb the quiet; Lie down gently, lest you wake the sleeping stars; Gently cover the quilt, so as not to break the sweet rural autumn dream.

Spring, beautiful spring, mild spring, came back, came to my side again. You always dance gently in the mountains, so close, kind. Always let a person can not forget that intoxicating dream. I, walking in the shade of the woods, looking for the charming spring scenery.

This is spring, because of the initiation of life here, let me really feel a magical beauty.

The cool breeze lifts my collar, and I see a green, white clouds snuggle in the blue sky, and birds play in the green trees...

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The sun was setting and the breeze was warm. I stood up in the grass and looked out into the distance through the dense grass that stretched to the horizon. Nature is generous, it lets people enjoy its charm and fun, but does not ask for any reward.

The beauty of nature is the beauty of openness, the beauty of gaps, and the beauty of tolerance. Let's all enjoy the fun of nature!

People say the spring is full of flowers, the most beautiful spring, and I think fruits, grain harvest, the autumn wind is the most dazzling autumn.

On Tuesday afternoon, several "little reporters" of our school hummed a little song and walked with a relaxed and happy pace to "interview" Uncle Qiu in the reservoir in the teapot.

The mountains surround the water, and the water reflects the mountains. The water is so clear, gorgeous and moving; But the mountain is not bad either, it is so mighty, like a giant standing among the mountains and fields.