1. The wind in the old alley is always blowing slowly and slowly. The high walls and carved eaves have been worn away by the years and wind and rain. The old houses in the alley retain traces of history, but they are located among the

Forgotten intersection.

Children were running around in the alley, playing their games.

2. Those ancient courtyards and ancient stone slab alleys contain traces of time, stories of life, and many confusing legends.

3. The memory of the alley ferments in the passing years, making a kind of nostalgia more and more clear. The memory of the alley begins to enter the nostalgic history, and is gradually erased by the tall buildings. Ah, the memory of the alley never grows old.

The topic is like a song, singing the past of the city.

4. I held an umbrella and walked in the alley.

The alleys in Jiangnan give people the feeling of being ancient and slightly vicissitudes of life, soaked in mist and rain, full of poetry, distant yet familiar.

In the picture of the alley in my mind, there will be a back figure, holding an oil paper umbrella, walking in the misty Jiangnan alley, so quiet and gentle, as if the background is removed, and only the sound of rain is heard.

5. The water in the depths of the alley only flows on the shore of the story, and a kind of non-flowering dam grows on the shore of the story.

Baiyun Canggu, are the begonias still there deep in the alley?

!

When I stood again on a familiar yet unfamiliar land where more than four thousand days had passed, my heart was filled with uneasiness. I couldn't figure out whether what I was picking up here would be the joy of seeing old friends again or the frustration of revisiting the old place.

6. I have been walking along the alley. I want to find the lost love, and then lock them in the early morning or dusk. In the rivers and lakes of my words, I will create an enchanting love, just to keep it immortal for a lifetime.

Happy face.

Standing in the alley, looking up at the meter of sunshine in the winter.

My body and my soul are all illuminated by the sun.

I began to filter my thoughts, trying to eliminate every imperfection.

7. In the alleys, I can retrieve old memories, take a leisurely and comfortable walk, and appreciate the ancient courtyards, as well as the stone bridges and pavilions reflected in the river.

As I grow older, perhaps in the years to come, I will be able to enjoy walking in the quiet alleys every day; stand on the bridge and listen to the sound of gurgling water under the bridge.

7. When traveling alone, whether you are walking in the streets or under the trees among flowers, you can say to yourself: I am who I am, because there you don’t have to hide your sadness, and you don’t have to be happy with anyone, just be yourself.

Feels great.

8. If you want to travel, all you need is a backpack, a brave heart, and someone who loves you and can take photos of you.

9. One day, I will leave behind all my fatigue and ideals, take my camera and computer, stay away from the bustling city and move towards the emptiness.

10. Liu Shui is very clear about the responsibility of cherishing flowers.

The real identity is nothing more than transportation. If this trip is a happy one, it will be a life-long success.

1. The alley is winding, narrow and long.

I walked from this end to that end.

Wear the dew all over your body and face the dim light of the moon.

The alleys are secluded, silent and desolate.

I move from memory to memory.

With tears in my eyes, I silently count the sadness you have given me.

The alley is deep, sad and melancholy.

You move from your heart to your dreams.

This road, how I want to meet you.

At the end of the alley, there are no doors or windows.

I took the rusty key and tapped on the thick wall.

(Author: Anonymous) The memory of the alley fermented over the passing years, making a kind of nostalgia more and more clear. The memory of the alley began to enter the nostalgic history, and was gradually erased by the tall buildings. Ah, the memory of the alley

Memory, an eternal topic, is like a song, singing the past of the city.

Our alley is very shallow, it is a back alley in the old southwest city, and is inhabited by ordinary people.

However, no matter how shallow it is, it is still an alley. The prosperity is separated by space, and the inside and outside of the alley are completely different. It is quiet inside and noisy outside.

The buildings on both sides faced each other. The alley was shallow and narrow, and the buildings were so high that they reached into the clouds. The narrow sky on the top of the buildings seemed extremely far away. I was too tired to look up.

I had nothing to do, so I sat in front of the teahouse at the end of the alley and just looked at the entrance of the alley. In a trance, the entrance of the alley seemed to be the sky above Laojing.

There is a branch of yellow jujube leaning in from the side, covering the group of short houses in the square, and the green leaves are just the sky.

On a clear day in summer, you can see the blue sky and white clouds.

When the clouds are high, they float by without leaving a trace, but sometimes they are so low that they hang on the branches of the yellow oak trees, motionless, completely covering the entrance of the alley. The alley suddenly becomes shady, like the shadows cast by the clouds on the clear water.

Air is transparent well water.

When the shadow fell, the water in the well seemed to be rippling.

People pass by in the alley, their shadows are like fish, long, short, fat and thin, all kinds of shapes.

There will be many small fish in the early morning. Children carrying schoolbags will swim by in an endless stream.

Turn left out of the alley, and there is a primary school not far away, attracting children there like a huge magnet.

And children are rarely seen in the alleys.

Even those who are not old enough to study will swim out from the alley and play in the fields, and will not return to the nest until night.

Children love excitement, and deserted alleys cannot keep them.

Alleys without children are even more deserted.

Several black cables flew through the air, and the two ends could not be seen. I didn't know where they came from or where they were going. There was no beginning or end, just like Ben's music score.