Green is in my heart

The small river in my hometown, I love my hometown, I love the river in my hometown. When I was young, it was always growing with me. In my mind, the river in my hometown is the most beautiful river in the world.
I am in a kindergarten in my hometown. Every day after school, I will play for a while at the river. The water in the creek is very clear, clean and similar to pure water. When the sun shines on the water, the water sparkles and turns into a golden river. The fish are playing in the water, and the ducklings swim with the female ducks on the water to form a vivid landscape. The fishermen are fishing on the poles. On the side of the river, some people are blowing the sound of the flute. In my mind, it seems to be heaven.
Every spring, the willows and the peach blossoms bloom, and the river is decorated with extraordinarily beautiful. Every summer, we are like a few ducklings playing in the river, how comfortable we are! In the autumn season, the red maple outside the dam is dotted with a small river. A clump of colorful chrysanthemums surrounded by small rivers. The creek is like a scarf, which surrounds the whole mountain and brings a lot of convenience to the nostalgia.
Waiting for the national small, I am a small country in Shanghai, and it is more troublesome to go home, so I have not returned home for several years. One day, I saw a poster that read: "Humans should wake up, the earth is destroyed by humans themselves." There are several illustrations, all of which are polluted rivers. I thought to myself: "These rivers are really not as good as the rivers in their hometown." I am full of confidence in the small river in my hometown.
At the New Year, we decided to go home for the New Year. I took a digital camera and decided to take a beautiful view of the river. When I got off the car and swept my gaze to the creek, I was stunned. The clear body of the creek became muddy and covered with oily foam, which smelled of pungent smell. The peach trees and willows on the banks of the river are like a big illness. The flowers and plants on both sides are not as vibrant as before. I turned my head and closed my eyes, hoping that it was not true. Of course, that is impossible. My heart is as painful as a knife. The river in my mind can no longer come back.
I miss the beautiful river in my heart, but it can only be a thing of the past.
I hope that such a tragedy will not repeat itself.