The tree stood firmly on the rock, vigorous and simple, like a group of strong old people. The roots crawl horizontally and creep, and open up the mountain rocks, like dragons and snakes, hammers and axes, and chisels. The momentum is like a thousand pounds, and the aura is like

The tree stood firmly on the rock, vigorous and quaint, like a group of strong old people. The roots crawl horizontally and creep, and open up the mountain rocks, like dragons and snakes, hammers and axes, and chisels. The momentum is like a thousand pounds, and the aura is like a long rainbow! The tree is like a craftsman who carries a house to build a foundation, extending its tough diamond-like foundation inch by inch to the depths of the mountain, while supporting the shade of jade as beautiful as an umbrella. This is a tenacious sublimation, this is a grand view of life, and this is a silent bold statement!

Trees hold their own destiny tightly and embed hope all seeds firmly on this rock, letting the frost, snowstorm storm, wind and rain roar. I don’t know how deep the roots formed by these bent rings are, nor how long it takes to fall into the roots by the wind and rain, but I understand its strength and its power starts from the moment it reaches its sight.

This spirit is the common pursuit of life, the singing of life, a story, and a group of successful giants showcase their struggle history. The speechless roots shocked people's hearts with deep silence. Is this the foot of a tree, the path of a tree, or the real footsteps of a tree. I can't explain clearly. But this is a tenacious struggle song written by Yansong to the children. I saw its notes jumping among the vast green leaves!

When people sit on the roots of the rushing bow hanging from the ground, they proudly take pictures, and talk and laugh and walk away from the roots, I really want to know. Has people's perception of the roots leaped into a firm, tenacious, and indomitable true meaning of survival, and from now on, face life and the world calmly?

Amid the dripping sound of the drizzle, I seemed to hear thousands of troops, the axe fell from the chisel. At this time, the roots of ancient poems have taken into my soul, and I seem to have become root's thinking, root language, root part, and the admiration in my heart also turns into a wetness in the light rain. On the rock behind the mountain, there is the tall and extraordinary four-season pine tree-below the feet are dragons and tigers, roaring silently to shock; above the head are green waves and clouds, magnificent in the clouds!