At this time, the solstice winter has just passed, and you can hear the rumbling footsteps coming in the middle of winter. Spring has always been close to the tender yellow willow of Geelong River. I am used to smelling the lotus wind in summer and enjoying the flying snow in autumn. You may think that the Geelong River in winter is a bit monotonous. Yes, it's dark ochre. The trees on the river bank are bare, and there is a large area of hay under the tree. The gurgling water also lost its weight and became an intermittent glacier. Where is the ancient rhyme of poetry?
Dawn comes late in winter, and it is still gray at six o'clock. Under the dim morning light, the tall poplars and stout willows on both sides of the Geelong River have fallen leaves. Without the green whirling in spring and summer, without the iron-black branches stabbing into the gray sky, the sky becomes deeper and deeper, and the trees highlight the hard-core branches, giving people a feeling of "pulling the mountain out of the sea", making you just want to shout loudly and vent what rises in your heart.