Essays on Five Avenue Proses in Jincheng

Just because I like the words describing Five Avenue, the ink on the white cover and the gloomy narration of the author. On impulse, I called my father and asked him to drive on the road from Jincheng to Fifth Avenue. Tall modern buildings are branded on the reflection of windows like axes. I don't know why I am so desperate to find a place that only appears in words, but I happen to have the opportunity and time. Jincheng, Fifth Avenue, Outer Court. Every quaint European-style house on Fifth Avenue is covered with a wall of air-dried Parthenocissus tricuspidata and grape trellis, which are recorded in the author's novels in bits and pieces. It's like telling a story about chasing the sunset when I was young on my pillow. In this self-conscious student era, I seem to be exploring the secrets inside.

Tianjin west.

I can't wait to drive to Fifth Avenue for more than half an hour on the map of Gaode. As Baidu said, the house on Fifth Avenue is a memory left by the colonial period. It used to be the British-French Concession, but now the wars of those years have passed, leaving only traces that the moonlight can't erase, and I like the words that it left in my heart. These are not as simple as diaries, but as sincere as diaries.

In the noisy city, people come and go in an endless stream. I close my eyes and imagine a Parthenocissus is the most beautiful, just like a sigh after a poet sings a poem, just like moonlight pouring on a girl's mind. I gently pushed open the rosewood side door with patterned glass, and a wall of Parthenocissus tricuspidata poured down the railing. I wonder if the owner will wash his hair here, because I suddenly found that the Parthenocissus here is her long hair.

I shook my head with a wry smile. I came to look for the beautiful place described by the author. Now I have seen its body completely and chose to leave. I don't understand what kind of mood this is. Perhaps what I am looking for is not itself, but a kind of loneliness. Gu Lou experienced a hundred years of vicissitudes of life, and wanted to see an author's inner loneliness.

After leaving Fifth Avenue, I seem to understand its beauty. What I can't get doesn't mean losing.