"It's raining. "I don't know who broke the quietness of the bedroom.

　　I opened my eyes, stretched my hand and rubbed it, and looked out of the window. A tricky drizzle fell on the window and glided freely on the bed. I hastened my clothes out of the dorm room.

　　Little drops of rain gently fell on his face, soft, it seems, there is some sweet.... Little drops of rain dripping down, to the outside world covered with a layer of white fog. "Rustle... Rustle..." it falls on the tree, on the ground, on the balcony. The drizzle is colorless, like a transparent fairy. Look at those clouds again, and the little raindrops are coming from there, but they are really not beautiful. To put it this way, I think the small raindrop is the most holy product of nature.

　　When the rain is small, like a gentle princess, gently and softly, play with you and play. But when it rains, it's not the scenery. It's quite different.

　　Accompanied by the wind accompanied by her sister, the rain became bigger. They had no regrettable smashing on the windowpane, but there were still some dangling noises. When they walk outside, they will not hesitate to hit any part of you, they have become less gentle, become very rough. You really have a pain in your body.

　　But for small plants that wake up in spring, raindrops wake them up without being gentle and rude. -------Rain_Find