Have a voice

On the way home, there was a white cloud in front of me. Did you hear the breeze gently licking your ears and shrouded the shreds? When the flowers around me turned helplessly in the wind, I understood, looked up at the gray sky, it was the sigh of the earth. When this gust of wind blew into my mind, I pushed forward the wave that was stagnant, reminding me of something that had been forgotten.

It was a Saturday evening. I finished the sketching class and walked alone through a tunnel under the railway near my home. There were a lot of people coming and going, and sanitation workers rarely came here to clean it. At this time, I saw a paper towel that was discarded by people. It lies quietly in the dim tunnel, so white is so glaring. My attention was attracted to it, and the brain was like a stir, and it was entangled. Am I going to pick it up? Despite the crowds of people and cars around me, I turned a deaf ear. Should I pick it up and throw it into the trash? But what if the top is covered with germs? I still don't care about it. But don't underestimate this piece of paper. If everyone is like you, white pollution will sooner or later destroy the home we depend on. But now I carry a heavy bag and carry a picture box. The tired body can't let me practice the bend, pick it up, and throw away this seemingly simple but tired movement. My heart is in a paradox... The result is that the psychological struggle of such a long time has only condensed into those few seconds: turning around, turning back, indifferently passing through the zone where the thought collided. I didn’t look back, behind me, but in the dark tunnel, the dazzling white...

Recalling this matter now, I regret it. I hate my selfishness and inertia at that time. Nowadays, the glare white that is the same as that of the year is seen everywhere, and the daily air pollution index is gradually rising. A pile of household garbage gradually swallowed this beautiful planet. At a glance, I felt that I was a sinner, even more guilty than the littering person. Few people can take the initiative to pick up the garbage, and the indifference gradually ruins the humanity, but at the same time they dare not look up at the sky.

When the chainsaw slammed and people were unrestrained in deforestation, did you hear the lament of the stake? When a shot was shot, did the hunter shoot the flying birds on the branches, did you hear the shuddering sound of the flying feathers? When people break the flowers in the branches and bloom, do you hear the crying of the falling petals? When the development of the city gradually engulfs the green, the sky is no longer blue, the water is no longer clear, then you hear it?

Yes, I heard it. I stepped forward and stooped to pick up the white that was no longer dazzling.

First day: look back