On the day before the solstice, I set out from the city where I lived, went south out of the city, and turned east, through a winding uphill road, and after crossing the continuous peaks of the mountain, descended from the road and looked out over a wide expanse of flat, green fields, which, if the weather was clear, could be seen to the sea, You can see small islands floating in the sea, like the back of a turtle in the distance, between the blue waves. We were expected to arrive in the evening at a town famous for its hot springs on the northeast plain of the island, stay overnight, and in the morning drive around the steep cliffs at the northeast corner to the eastern shore. I did not expect to set out when the sky suddenly turned dark, the original bright blue sky flew black clouds. Distant rolling blast deep thunder, like a long time to be depressed anger injustice, overflowing to churn, in the atmosphere left rushed right, looking for the outlet of the outbreak of catharsis. The sultry, moist air before a tropical island thunderstorm on a summer afternoon clings to the skin like a heavy, wet, sticky cloth. The car was driving on the mountain road. Large clouds covered the sky and the light faded quickly. The stems and leaves of ferns hanging upside down from the mountain walls trembled and whirled in panic in the wind. Heavy raindrops pattered against the hood of the car in the stuffy silen

ce. Start is a little ring brittle scattered single tone, gradually by thin and dense, slow and quick, like a little horse from far and near, clicking clicking, faster and faster, finally, a joint of the heavy rain poured down, waterfall silver heavy rain over the line of sight, wiper hurtling around shaking, beads scattered splash on the window glass, The long-suppressed depression seems to be able to burst into tears at last. The rain was so heavy that the drain pipes installed in the concrete parapets on the slopes of the mountains shot out like thousands of water guns. In a moment the valleys become rapids, the gutters overflow, the roads become waterways, and the sound of the water lapping against the roofs of the cars is heard in the ears. "This rain won't last long." B While driving. He was either comforting me or comforting himself. We hadn't expected rain and the weather report said it would be sunny for several days. But rain might not be so bad. We do not know what lies ahead on a long road. Expectation is just a subjective assumption. If the assumption is realized, we will get carried away and the assumption will become an obsession. With persistence, once the expectation fails, it is necessary to be disappointed and painful. In fact, a road, because everywhere may not be as expected, it is full of infinite curiosity to continue to go and explore the joy of it. At the top of the mountain, the rain stopped. Many people pulled over and got out of their cars and looked up at the clear, clear sky after the rain had stopped, at the plains below the heavy mountain roads, at the rice paddies, fresh green and shiny after the rain, connecting with the blue sea bathed in the bright sun. The people who got out stretched their waists and limbs and turned their necks, some smiled, some jumped and cheered. I'm not expecting anything, or I'm just expecting a simple escape. I expected sunshine, only to hear rain in sheets. I expected a sunny day, but I found the lowest melancholy wailing. Do I expect to be on a smooth, smooth thoroughfare? But why come this twists and turns, circling obstacles, always alert to rock and cliff mountain road. The car was winding down the sloping mountain road, the long wind blowing through the Windows. The whole mountain is full of the sound of water, the clatter, xili, Zhengzheng, dribs and drabs...... Never thought, after the heavy rain, the mountains waterfalls flying spring flow, the beaches rippling, the water sound like song, all the way, is so rich and happy.