Do you know where to find this essay on flowers that bloom in the depths of memory

I like flowers, I like flowers of all colors, I like to smell the stamens of all kinds of flowers, and I always revel in the fragrance of flowers when I inhale them deeply. However, as the years passed, I didn't know how much I forgot my favorite flowers, but only an unknown flower always bloomed in the depths of my memory. This is the beginning, write the rest yourself!

Your eyes, your face, your smile, your gloom. You sometimes think about it, and you accidentally think about it. All your scrambles to bloom, and you don't let go of any corner of my heart.

You are dressed in a black shirt, sitting on the edge of the bed, holding a ** in your hand, looking into the distance, looking calm and stable. I'm on the other side of the ** telling a little bit, about you, about me, or about everything around me. Sometimes you're depressed, sometimes you're helpless, and I know that you're a quiet listener.

After the rain in late autumn, the sky was like a crystal clear, the clouds dissipated, and the blue sky was clear. It is like my heart, because I can communicate with you, that troubles disappear, break through the prison, and release safely.

In the cold winter, your birthday is coming. We were all wearing thick cotton jackets, rubbing our palms together, breathing hot air to each other, and even the words spoken face-to-face were trembling, as if the slightest carelessness would instantly turn into ice. Only you and I know that this coldness and bone-chilling, even if it can freeze everything, it can't cool our warm hearts.

Who said that winter monotony kills everything? We cared for each other and let the wind and snow freeze everything. In my opinion, the winter scene is surprisingly intoxicating.

Those sluggish flowers and plants also contain infinite vitality.

Spring slowly sprouts, grows, grows, and grows. Your beige sweater is as warm as a spring breeze. You sit on a wicker chair, lazily basking in the sun, holding a book in your hand, comfortable and leisurely, very comfortable.

I can imagine it, because when I see you again, you will have more peace and leisure. In the world of Yingge and Yan Dan, your retrospective smile and jokes make people laugh. Spring is so beautiful, you try to inadvertently take away my tiredness and sleepiness, so that I am not impetuous, quietly calm down, and concentrate on the matter at hand.

When I'm troubled by pressure, your jokes will just appear lightly, sublimated into my ** to break the shackles, and let go easily.

Midsummer, light years, fragrant. Your sweat-soaked undershirt has dangled in front of my eyes countless times. When you share your experience with me, sometimes you have different opinions, you will be impassioned, the six relatives will not recognize each other, pull your throat, shout and break your throat, try every means to persuade each other, and even quarrel endlessly, and finally you can only pause with the tolerance of one party.

After the quarrel, they talked and laughed as always, and they were happy. The scorching sunshine, let us thrive under its enthusiasm. You are really my most beautiful scenery, more beautiful than the catkins in early spring, the lotus flowers in midsummer, the big eyes in late autumn, and the snow in the harsh winter.

In the blink of an eye, it was another early autumn, and it was also our last early autumn. In such a moment, I remembered everything about you again. If I could, I wouldn't part.

But if we finally meet in the vast sea of people but pass by, and the fate is over, it will be irretrievable. We can't belong to each other, but we can belong to this vast sky, with you, with me, with everything we have. You know, when you look up, I'm probably looking up at the same planet as you.

You are a flower blooming in the depths of my memory, spring, summer, autumn and winter, no matter how the seasons alternate, you will never fade and never wither!

On the road of youth, there will always be pain. But along the way, there will always be fragrant flowers, and it is they who are no longer troubled by the journey of youth. They have been silently encouraging you and loving you.

Inscription. That year, my birthday.

On that day, my heart was like a fragrant sunflower: my parents took me to a gray bookcase and said to me: "Well, this is our birthday gift to you, you have grown up, you should have a lot of little secrets in your heart, only when you have to talk, you will be mature and sensible."

This bookcase can listen to all your worries and joys, and it will become your good friend. The afterglow of dusk refracted onto the set of keys, and golden sunflowers bloomed. That day, I smiled heartily.

Since then, the bookcase has really become a good friend of mine, and I see that my worries and joys are all stuffed away. The sunflower of family affection in my heart is also constantly absorbing sunlight and nutrients, and is constantly growing.

School life is no longer boring, and I study hard with joy. After class, the topic of conversation among the students has long since become "parents don't understand themselves on the road to youth." I couldn't help but secretly praise my parents for their open-mindedness, and I couldn't help but join in and proudly tell about it.

But unexpectedly, a voice came: "It's also possible that they deliberately equipped another key to peek at your secret!" "It was like a bolt from the blue, and I froze.

The next few lessons are like long centuries. The sunflower in my heart is no longer bright, and it seems that it has already been watered by a downpour of rain.

When I got home, I didn't bother to keep a diary, and I was suspicious of my parents' actions. Suddenly, I thought of a method in the book and did it. I put a strand of hair in the diary, and as soon as the journal moved, the strand of hair would move very quickly.

After doing this, I left nervously.

A few days later, I went back to the bookcase that made me sad, and when I opened it, I was stunned: "Is it .......""The hair didn't move in the slightest. It's just a little dusty on it.

In my eyes, an indescribable liquid rushed up, and I seemed to hear my parents' words that day: "Don't be provoked by others and make you lose being a close person!" "Mom and Dad, I'm sorry.

Again, the sunflower in my heart bloomed a long-lost smile.

This is the profound inspiration that my parents gave me; This is my parents' deep love for me. The sunflower of family affection accompanies me on the road of youth, going farther and farther!