Zhenheju | April is connected by grass and trees.

When the April breeze gently pushes open the wooden window by the river Under the green tile eaves, grape vines weave emerald-like necklaces on bamboo frames. Tiny spots of light passed through the hollow patterns of the new leaves and fell on the stone steps like swaying silver fragments. The loquat tree at the corner is undergoing a sweet transformation. The light yellow flower buds of last year's late autumn have now grown into furry green fruits, hanging among the branches. The newly bloomed pale white inflorescences still hold up their honey pots, inviting bees and butterflies to share the gift of the season. Behind the green bamboo screen, trumpet creeper climbed over the fence. The winding stone path is like a fuse, stringing together the fine wine brewed by the spring scenery all over the city. As the breeze blew by, bamboo shadows wrote in the thin gold script on the pink wall, and loquat leaves translated whispers into Morse code. When the dusk turns the grape vines amber, Why not pick a bamboo leaf to make a boat, and fill your sleeves with the fragrance of flowers? Row to the harbor where the stars begin to shine.