Her Peach Tree

Her indigo eyebrows are as slender as distant mountains, her loving eyes are beautiful and lively, her sensitive and small nose is always quiet, and her lips that are not dotted but red are like the most pink rose in summer. I often say that she was a peach blossom fairy in her previous life, because all the peach blossoms, whether they were fresh peach blossoms, blooming peach blossoms or rotten peach blossoms, surrounded her. We grew up and our parents were neighbors. More than 20 years of direct or indirect interaction made me know her peach blossom tree very well. I went from being very novel to accepting it calmly. I always felt that there were such friends in this world who enriched my life, and I was worthy of living this life.