Today, I chat with my father. My father said “this raining”. Rain-----is imaginative word. My town’s rain is not cold in the march. In the March, this rain has little warm touch the heart. March rain is drift in the sky, it like gauze skirt that flutter in the air ， or like full moon’s brilliance. When you are walking on the road, you will smell the fragrance of the soil. In the rain is breeding love. Who knows some handsome man’s has beautiful girl under the umbrella. The girl is beautiful smiling and has flushed cheeks. Rain is a jumping fairy.
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