早上的天气很清冷,风吹着干枯的树枝,呜呜地响着。屋内因为生了火,并不冷,但是外边滴水成冰,令人望而却步。前几天下的雪还有些没有消尽,踩在上面吱吱作响。鸽子早就在昏黄的朝阳旁飞着,鸽哨尖锐悦耳。北方的冬天,似乎正沉入睡眠。这景象,新奇而陌生。已经2天了,还有3天就可以回去。拥措这么想着。自从计划到这里过节后,初始的热情已经消退,她现在 The morning was cold and the wind blew dry branches and humming. Because the house was born fire, not cold, but outside dripping into ice, prohibitive. A few days ago the snow did not disappear, stepped on creaking. The pigeons flew by the dimly lit morning sun sharply and sharply. Winter in the north seems to be falling asleep. This scene, novelty and strange. It’s been 2 days, and there are 3 days to go back. Yong measures so think. Since the plan to the festival here, the initial enthusiasm has subsided, she now