A bird is flying, and its mother is waiting for its arrival at some destination. It only knows that its mother is waiting for it in the distance, and it doesn't know why. It is stormy, urgent and fast. It needs to arrive. When it finds its mother, it goes to its mother
The mother showed off: "I flew hundreds of miles in three days and searched all over the mountains and forests. I was hungry, thirsty, and lost most of my feathers. I feel that I am very strong."
Its mother shook her head: "You are strong, I admit it. You found me. You have searched the entire forest in the past three days. Do you know how many rivers and lakes there are in this forest?" It shook its head, with confusion on its face. "Kid, going too fast will make you miss a lot of beautiful scenery."
Speed has been perfectly interpreted in today's world. People are walking impatiently. The thousand-year-old road is silent under their feet. When the yellow dust is everywhere, people choose another way: running. Abandoning the broken old cars and creating tools for aging, people seem to have forgotten the existence of cattle, so they ignore the grassland. The erosion of every inch of yellow sand is the regret of rows of blood and tears. Human beings want to run past nature, cross the origin of life, and find artificial paradise. Is the illusion that beauty and error coexist cracking?