Accompany you with homesickness

Everyone has their own recognized good places and beautiful scenery. What I recognize is the memory in my childlike heart and my hometown< Br> hometown is a big locust tree, and its root system holds your heart. No matter how far you go or how high you fly, your heart is tied and held. You are a kite, and hometown is that thread. Days are not old, feelings are difficult to overcome, the heart is like a net, in which there are thousands of knots< Br> hometown is a faded old photo, old relatives, classmates and friends, familiar faces, scenes and objects, and fading memories, moistening your heart and warming your feelings< Br> hometown is a book, turning page by page. There are simple old houses, black walls, old roads, wet moss, ancient wells and old trees, morning glory climbing walls. Years have spread vicissitudes on the scenery, and the growth rings have pressed the scenery.