Acacia, then a memo of winter

A gust of wind blowing, after midnight, sleep hazy hear the sound of tree branches shaking crash.My bed near the window, across from the house is the high-speed sections, so most of the night I sleep is accompanied by whistles and howls of the wind.    This can not help but make me a little tired, sleep dreams are made of a series, so that each wake up in the morning, I always face the loss of appetite.Coastal winds are commonplace in this season, so live in the sea, it is an icy cold winter, which reminds me of a northern winter, but it is kind of hard to compare cold, so in terms of the South, the beach is undoubtedly an embarrassment of this season.    Last night the wind blew it touches the convergence point, but it seems they inadvertently come rain.So long night of climbing involved, I can feel is their own air conditioning and rainwater dripping tap shelf sound sleep, it is so dripping rain at night time, the repeatedly appeared in my dream , the predictable dawn, pulled me up from empty dreams, I rub the sleep out of sleepy eyes, opened the curtains, overlooking this piece of land, on land outside the window has long been a wet scene, expect, last night under the rain.    ”Last night really under the rain,” a friend looking out the window surprised and said, this is the first time the rain came to this land, I began to seriously look at this piece of land, look forward to this upcoming winter season brings that wind and cold.    A gust of wind swept away the autumn season, so the rest of the winter is coming.After the wash, a rare rest day came to this land once the most extravagant, but after it there is not much excitement.Weekly strokes has become a must do, as if on the addiction-like, always touch the tip of that manuscript memo in a given period of time.    Dusk sunset like most poets, it sends a very poor light of this sea, far from the seething boats moored on the harbor truck in the winter feast, the scene plays scenes.Hold the tip, to use the most flowery language to record all of this, but it seems to have no way to remember, because too many repeated words seem to have been rendered by how many men of letters, perhaps you can leave only faint portrayed with that shallow a regimen of Hai.    Presumably, the hometown of the evening is such and such.Endless sea, sparking bursts of spray decked out this winter season.Fisherman carrying a backpack, walking in a long coastline, with the evening sunset quietly disappear in a sea, and I was picked up this piece of gold falling debris, trying to piece together the sky looks like, not like a long olds doing the same childhood dream.    Quiet coming, I stopped recall, closed the window, put an early winter cold snap blocked on the outside, listening to the sound of keystrokes, I started again in search of remaining on the letterhead handwriting, with a magnifying glass continued to enlarge that time hidden in the story.I think tonight will be a sleepless night!In the noisy whistle, the noise on the highway really ferocious.    The night cold, weak, such as paper, where to send a memo Acacia, accompanied by sleep only rain.

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