There is a small river in front of my house. The crystal clear river water and green willow trees decorate our hometown and blend into my mysterious and colorful childhood dreams. The river of the four seasons has accompanied me in my growth.

In spring, the drizzle is like silk, the misty rain is misty, and the river is like a kind mother. The half-awake and half-asleep willow tree peered into the little yellow head, nestled in the warm arms of the mother river, and her slender waist swayed coquettishly. How could a loving mother let her children catch cold, so she specially covered the willow tree with a thin coat. Like the gauze of cicada leaves. The little fish woke up, and they were much more naughty. They were jumping around in the water, spitting out a bunch of bubbles from their mouths, as if curiously asking: "Mom, why is it so lively outside?" The river gurgled. , as if she was patiently explaining to her children in detail, the flowing blue waves are the mother’s expectations for her children: I hope the grass will grow greener, I hope the flowers will bloom redder, I hope the trees will grow taller...

This scene is like what an ancient poem said: "Green mountains stretch across Beiguo, green water flows around the mountains, birds sing in the fragrant place, and the green mountains are beautiful."

In summer, the scorching sun is in the sky, Xiaohe is like a young and diligent boy. It is full of life and vitality. Look, the group of children on the other side are playing in the water. Sometimes they come out of the water and spit out a mouthful of water at you unexpectedly. Sometimes they go under the water to touch a handful of mud and rub it on your face. Listen, there is a faint sound of bursts in the distance. The sound of chickens crowing and dogs barking, the nearby fishing boats casting nets, the sound of pennies flapping water, the sound of playing, the sound of running water... merged into a natural piece of music that echoed over the river.

In autumn, leaves fall one after another, the sky is very high, the water is very blue, and the leaves are very yellow. The river is like an old man who has wandered all over the world and returned to his hometown to find his ancestors. It puts on a golden dress, brings heavy ears of rice, plump corns, and yellow-leaf letters full of greetings, and staggers from the village. The head comes. The breeze blows gently, and the river surface ripples like layers of ripples, just like the old man unfolding his wrinkled smile.

In winter, everything is silent, the willow trees hibernate, the fish are nowhere to be found, people don’t wash clothes, and even the children don’t play. There are just a few trees standing in the wind and pointing straight to the sky. The river does not feel lonely, because it knows that next spring will definitely be more lively. The current job is to accumulate energy and continue to move towards the sea in the heart...

Ah! The river in my hometown, the river in my dream! My love for you will not diminish due to the changes of the times and the separation of space. Your beautiful, hard-working, selfless and persistent spirit will always be buried in my heart.