Daisies In The Spring Field
I spent my childhood in the countryside. I didn't study piano, chess, calligraphy or painting. The only thing I had was the boundless countryside and all the grasses and trees that accompanied my childhood. Looking back on my childhood, my heart has always been beautiful, and I think this has been deeply imprinted in my life, and it is unforgettable to this day.
The rice fields in the early morning reflect the blue sky and white clouds, and I linger in the water and clouds. The sun rose from the opposite hill, and the air was filled with the smell of earth and ponds, as well as the fragrance of grass and wildflowers. The fog in the distance has not dissipated, and villages in twos and threes can be seen hidden in the woods. The color of the rice is light, and the paddy fields are divided into squares by the ridges. Nearby, unknown small trees have also sprouted new green. I found a large white wildflower in front of a small soil slope. They fluttered in the wind, swaying colorfully and freely, like a woman in white dancing in the spring morning mist. . . . . . . . .
This childhood scene often reappears in my memory, as beautiful and amiable as a dream. Last night, I had another dream. I dreamed of this field. I wanted to draw it, together with the fragrance of wildflowers everywhere, and the warmth and coldness of the childhood countryside in the early spring. "I had a dream; I painted the dream!"