In the midst of the rain, I saw Jiangnan in August. The drizzle of the south of the Yangtze River, accompanied by the West Lake, the picture of Man Miaoyu began.

I don’t know the ten scenic spots of the West Lake. I don’t know more about the thousands of scenic spots in the West Lake. The West Lake is just a noun to me. I don’t know what it stands for. I only come to see the scenery. Stepping on the West Lake, the first foot is the small bridge, a small bridge with no ladders to place. It has no name, of course it does not. Smoke and rain, Xiaoqiao, Bihe, and lake water, the eternal West Lake mood in the minds of scholars. Holding the umbrella, playing on the bridge, the picture is fixed in an instant.

Straight Su Di, set only for pedestrians, rushed passers-by, no one is in a hurry. At a glance, because of the rain, because of the bridge. Walking the Su Cause, there is no weight in the footsteps, the eyes are too busy, and my heart is quieter than the star-shaped lake. No sorrow, no annoyance, no one who knows, only for myself. Weeping willows are not the sorrowful heads in the sorrows. In the rain and rain, they are only playing in the lake, only to protect the Su Cause, and coincidentally, decorating this most beautiful Jiangnan. A pair of lovers, in a hurry, just to keep all this, yearning for this romance, like me, just for this scene, looking at greed is, if you can't get into the heart, why care.

On the side of the broken bridge, it is too little to learn, count the broken bridge, only a broken bridge of the broken snow, still so sad. Walk slowly and don't understand what it means. Looking at other people is as simple as taking pictures and staying in love. Go to the bridge, look back at both ends, and don't even break the bridge. I am too lazy to listen to the words of others, accompanied by the lake view, stroll down, go alone, do not care what is tight. Outside the end bridge, don't forget to look back, I don't understand what I mean, I just hope to solve the broken bridge. I will pay attention to Xu Xianbai Niangzi, their embarrassment, it is a matter of lovers, I am taking my way, only one It’s just like the West Lake.

The prelude to the evening has not yet fallen. Yang Gongdi walked around and went to several pavilions and several memorial tombs, most of which were buried in the city. The car on the road certainly won't take care of this drizzle, and the scenery, just look forward. I walked on the side of the road, and suddenly there was no tourist, only to find that it was no longer a scenic spot. But nothing, anyway, no matter where you want to go, you can't be wrong. Night is coming, greedy, I want to see the Leifeng Tower again. There are Su Shi here, there are Bai Juyi, Li Qingzhao, and Wu Song, there are many. Just do not understand why Lei Feng has a tower. Walking along the lakeside jungle road for a long time, all the way around, slowly realize that the mood is. Looking at the tower is in the eye, not in a hurry, every pavilion is gone, the West Lake is not the same everywhere. Going far, my thoughts are tired. I put my umbrella on my shoulders, and I turn around the umbrella. Others are like a cloud of smoke. There is only the West Lake, the lotus, the pavilion, the bridge and the beauty, or even a kind of erratic a feeling of. An old man came to ask about the whereabouts of Sudi, and he was awakened like a dream. West Lake is also called paradise on earth, but it is still human.

At the foot of Lei Feng Tower, looking at the tower at the lake, I suddenly remembered that the tower seemed to have something to do with the Xu Xianbai Niangzi, and finally arrived at the destination, but there was no interest in moving forward. This is going to turn around. There is no target. I saw it. I have nothing to do with the tower. I have nothing to do with it. I went back.

Next to the bus stop, I suddenly wanted to see a panoramic view of the West Lake. So, against the road of tourists, back to the West Lake. The smoke and rain in the evening was thicker. The Sudi in the distance was already drowned in the rain and smoke. Without the hustle and bustle of the people, the willows were still accompanied by the West Lake. The lake was still calm and greedy.

I missed the last bus, don't worry, walking is that the scenery of West Lake is enough for me to remember.

Yanyu Jiangnan, beautiful in the West Lake.