今天,下着淅淅沥沥的小雨,雨珠像顽皮的孩子在空中捉迷藏,追逐着、嬉戏着。中午,我捧着一本书,周围如此安静,甚至是无声无息,唯有书中散发的清香随风飘逸,潜入我心底的某个角落。我在风儿、雨儿的陪伴下读着书。捧着《栀子花开》,栀子花便悄然在心中开放。它就像一杯香味浓得化不开的茶,令人回味无穷;又像一曲乐曲,忽高忽低,忽弱忽强, Today, under a patchy rain, raindrops play hide and seek in the air like naughty children chasing, playing. Noon, I was holding a book, so quiet around, or even silent, only the fragrance of the book distributed in the wind elegant, sneaked into my heart somewhere. I am in the wind, rain accompanied by reading the book. Holding “Gardenia open”, Gardenia will quietly open in the heart. It is like a cup of tea with concentrated flavor, it is memorable; also like a song, bumpy, suddenly weak,