Spring is a sea of flowers, a world of incense. The poems spit out of the poet's mouth are also colorful, purple and red, with a faint fragrance.
And under our feet, the breeze is gentle, one step at a time. The petals that fall, any one you pick up, are all fragrant and warm verses.
In the mighty spring breeze, in addition to the fragrance of flowers and herbs, the sound of warblers and swallows, there is also a need for the fragrance of tea for us to taste and drink.
If you can pick up a bowl of spring tea before Qingming, it is the most perfect response to spring.
Where the spring breeze blows, the spring water is gently rippling, and the spring tea is new.
A goose-yellow sprout, standing on the verdant branches of the old tea tree, just waiting for a person with a heart to come for it. Just like, we have been waiting for the destined person, only with a heart that is not stained with dust, the world, and the red dust.
That little appearance, like us when we were young, immature and lovable, endearing. They stand on the branches, glowing with a faint light, green, just waiting for you to pick them down.
So, after cleaning your hands, gently pluck them from the branches and put them in the basket, one by one, crisp and raw, with the fragrance of the four seasons and their own vigorous vitality.
The Tang Dynasty poet Bai Juyi has a poem: "Sit and drink the water, watch the frying dust." There is no reason to hold a bowl and send it to tea lovers. ”
Many times, I hope to sit in the open mountains from time to time, take a cup of cool spring water, and put in a little green tea or black tea, or pu'er or white tea. Then, watch them slowly restore their original colors, forget about strife and forget about busyness.
People love tea, and I'm no exception. I like old tea, I also like new tea, and I prefer newborn spring tea.
Spring tea, awakened by the first wind of spring and illuminated by the first rays of the sun that has just warmed, it carries its original color and the aroma of new life. Gently pinch it, this vibrant spring bud, full of spring flavor.
Invite a wisp of grass green, dipped in the color of early spring, and then blend into a handful of words stained with rain and dew, with a faint fragrance of the year, depicted into a picture of appropriate shades of plain rhyme and elegance, collection.
The wind came from afar and stayed around. I just want to burn a fireworks, boil a pot of spring tea, and drink the whole spring with the fragrance of flowers.