In the city where I live, I always grow flowers and flowers, and I don’t see grass. The flowers bloomed and were smashed; the grass was dried and died, and was cut as a feed for sheep and rabbits. During the grass season, I often saw gardeners remove expensive turf from the truck and lay it on the side of the road, paving the gardens of the big and small. However, the fate of the grass is still as it used to be, and the residents have been looking forward to it again and again, looking forward to fail again and again. It seems that even the garden workers lost confidence in the city’s ability to grow green.
In front of my building, there was a small piece of forged bricks, white ash and yellow sand, which were forgotten in one or two years. The dry winds of spring, the heavy rains of summer, and the snow in the harsh winter make them even more messy. People want to go around but can’t get around. The soles are covered with loess and sand. When they enter the building, they are forced to rub on the concrete floor at the entrance of the building. They complain with the neighbors: this soil, the sand, this white ash. For a while, complaining for a while, walking into the home to step on the dirty floor, the table and chairs and the balcony still covered with fine dust. The rubble only brought anger and anger to the people, which cut off the normal communication of people in peace. People are looking forward to this place to be green. I often think that the green and large gardens are the size of a living room in the city. Few people sit in the comfortable living room with anger.
