Li Li's Diary in Puzhehei

"After the new rain in the empty mountain, the weather comes late in autumn." In the evening, I brushed away the bustling city, holding an umbrella, looking for a quiet place. Encounter in Puzhehei Lake, came to the foot of Qinglong Mountain. The hazy lake was covered with a layer of light veil, fluttering, and like a ribbon on a fairy, fluttering in the curl. A leaf of fishing and returning late in the flat boat is shadowy on the lake, looming from time to time.

Walking on the embankment, the breeze comes, looks up to meet their touch, deeply breathes the fresh lake breeze, like drinking a glass of strong wine, sweet drunk.

The nearby mountains are covered with a mysterious veil, which seems to feel the chill of autumn, but it seems that they are unwilling to hide their stalwart and upright. The nearby village is hidden between the mountain and the lake, and from time to time there are several barks of dogs. Suddenly, I seem to feel that the mountains and water here are a pair of intimate companions, which have been gestating life here for thousands of years. The husband guards the family with his majestic body, and the wife creates a happy life with her industrious hands. The children here are grateful and constantly add luster to the family through their own efforts, showing the harmony and happiness here to the outside world. The mountains are connected with water, the water surrounds the mountains, the villages are dotted, and the mist is filled. This kind of misty feeling has a kind of comfort in a fairyland, which is refreshing.

Suddenly, I smelled a refreshing fragrance of flowers. Ah! It turned out to be the fragrance of osmanthus flowers. Facing the fragrance of the flowers, I arrived at the dock unconsciously. The first thing that came into view was a few osmanthus trees. The osmanthus trees were covered with golden osmanthus, like grains of gold dotted on green embroidered cloth. It is also like a small doll picking open the green leaves and looking out smiling. At this time, the dock has long been free of the crowds during the day. A few small boats were quietly placed across the ferry. The boatmen had already collected their pulp. Maybe they were singing wine at the moment, chatting under the osmanthus trees, or tasting the delicacies of the mountains and seas here. After all, this is a land of fish and rice. Maybe......

The rain did not stop, still a little bit of random sprinkling, I set foot on the dock, leaning against the building to listen to the autumn rain, the rain at this time, not as delicate and gentle as spring rain, nor as generous and warm as summer rain, but so quiet and elegant. The mist floating on the lake began to diffuse around, and a breeze blew through, mixed with a mist of fresh soil fragrance, which was as concise and elegant as poetry. I want three points of Yi An's gracefulness, three points of Dongpo's heroism, three points of Tao Qian's indifference, three points of Li Bai's broad-mindedness and three points of Nalan's mood to make up how comfortable it is, and then listen to the natural rain.

Perhaps it was the breeze that hurt the delicate skin of the rain girl, and the rain gradually became smaller. The eaves and corners of the dock pavilion dripped like broken beads, "Tick, Tick, Tick..." One hit the bluestone with a hit, without a trace of complaint, only endless gratitude. It is the earth that nourishes all things, and the rain has the opportunity to give this thousands of vitality. Lament each other, never stop.

The rain stopped, just want to hum a little song, but afraid to break the quiet here, continue to walk along the way home. The closer we got to the village, the fog gradually disappeared. Just now, we were still in the fog and rain. All of a sudden, there was a kind of "there is no way out after the heavy mountains and rivers, and there is another village in the dark. Looking around, the golden rice in the field is ripe, and pieces of light golden yellow are sprinkled all over the field. Several houses seem to be crisscrossed by the side of the road, with restaurants coveting and farmhouse cooking smoke curling up.

It is cold and misty in autumn, with countless peaks and mountains far and near. In my spare time to explore the autumn waters in a secret land, the house is like an idyllic place. I think the "Peach Blossom Garden" written by Tao Yuanming in the Eastern Jin Dynasty may be hidden here. I don't know which master did it, and with its extraordinary technique, Puzhehei splashed into a landscape and pastoral ink painting.