From a young age , Father who is used to getting up early often knocks on the heavy wooden door of the room , Let me wake up in my sleep .
Time has changed , I haven't heard that rough and rhythmic thump for a long time .
Every holiday comes , It seems that they are all wonderful rest days . However , Or living alone for a long time , I will still get up slowly in the early morning when the night has not been completely lifted .
In that sleepy moment around me , My consciousness and mood can often travel back and forth to the flowery town with my memories .
The houses in my hometown are overcast , The origin of the initial structure , Even in midsummer when the sun is burning , That empty floor will walk with the cold solitude .
Early in the morning , Dark and cool as if completely attached to the white concrete wall , It's Scandinavian , It's like a mint in the corner , Gaze slightly , Impetuous mood is about to fade , It's gone .
The clear atmosphere is like a bartender falling on the bottom of the glass , For the whole busy monotonous academic career to erase the anxiety , Even in the hour before I go to school , I often go to the pavilion on the top floor alone .
Make a cup of morning tea , Gazing at the beautiful picture of day and night . It's like a Japanese ukiyo painting , Sipping the hot barley tea , The sky is full of gorgeous pictures , Beautiful as fireworks on a winter night , In full bloom .
In the dense and disorderly blue fall , I often feel a wonderful leisure in the quiet and silent atmosphere , It's like the mind and the body begin to come apart , Gradually into a state of forgetting time .
“ The morning is full of happiness , I sit in the daytime and often don't understand .”
It's a kind of seemingly unstoppable movement , In fact, every minute is pulled for a long time , Even if you don't remember the existence of this thing , And then fall into a kind of semi sleepy state .
I'm not particularly fond of tea , But in this particular environment , The existence of tea is undoubtedly more important than me .
In this edge that seems to be separated , Almost no one will come to visit , A lot of voices came here as faint as a sigh . therefore , Vision has undoubtedly become the main body of this spiritual journey .
My father is also interested in home , I wonder if he often comes to the top floor , Not long after that, there was an extra aluminum curved seat . I love this seat , Especially when I'm sleepy and my head won't go away , I always roll up , Curl up in it .
Interesting things happen at this moment as well .
I used to close my eyes a little , I fell asleep . When I open my eyes , The flower cluster and wheat tea are slightly stuck by a thin layer of warm silk .
The soft light and shadow like the flow of a stream , It's just like a naughty ivy climbing to my body , Gently swimming in the early morning breeze and some purple cheeks .
I had a good sleep , Even the wheat tea, which was supposed to be cool, was warmed back a little . Take a sip , A kind of sweet and greasy without reason , Xu is the sweetener that Yang Wu secretly dropped , Make up for the early morning that was forgotten by accident .
Such a confused routine , It was once an indispensable part of my old life .
let me put it another way , Every time I think about the morning when the flowers are as sticky as cotton wadding , The firm will from the deep of my heart can often make me get rid of the warm sheets .
The town is next to the mountain , It is no doubt one of the most enjoyable things for students to go hiking and relax in the early morning of a holiday .
I also go with friends from time to time .
Just once , The rain is like a broken tap , Wet the mountain road which is difficult to walk , The town was veiled with grey , It's like silk , The water is clear .
therefore , I said to my friends who are staying in my house ：
“ that , Would you like to have a cup of tea with me first ？”
Since childhood , I almost sit alone and enjoy my tea , It's not just about tea ceremony , It's coffee 、 Afternoon dessert , I'm alone .
That morning is a little different , In the rain and wind swaying flowers , It's nothing more than an unrelated object . For them , Something to be happy about , It must be a rare sweet shower .
Later my friend said to me , He's never seen me talk so little , Almost just looking at the rain in front of me , Even a feeling of being sucked .
On that day , My mood really tends to be quiet , Not willing to say one more word .
A cluster of flowers , The whole blue rain world , I can't help fainting in the dripping water lines ……