The first catkins of 2025,
Arrived a bit later than usual.
The car parked at the elementary school,
Accompanied the last falling catkin.
The first catkins of 2025,
Are a lingering sentiment in Urumqi.
You flutter like a butterfly,
Swaying in the season of drifting catkins.
I can't forget the feeling of holding you close,
Warmer than the fiery passion hidden in my heart.
I forget the intense south wind outside the window,
Once again overlapping tenderness and intimacy.
It is your red lips that cling to everything about me,
It is your thoughtfulness that ignites my passion once more.
Your myriad of tenderness transforms into the spring breeze.
Adapted from above
This year's catkin outbreak period
When the second round vehicle arrives at the place with many willows, I must squint
Catkins float like snowflakes in the wind
Falling to the ground, they won't melt
The wind comes again, dancing once more
The hotter the weather, the more catkins there are, fluffy and light
Makes me feel like they could be used to make a quilt
There is a place where a large pile of catkins gathers
Like small snowdrifts
I recorded a video
Posted it on Bilibili
Catkins flying like snow_Bilibili_bilibili