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Chapter 42 Pollen

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    It's time to fly flowers all over the city again, to be precise, it's flying pollen.

    The street trees in Shanghai are mostly camphor, followed by sycamore.

    Living in Nanjing, where there are many sycamore trees since I was a child, I have long been accustomed to the flying catkins of sycamore trees.

    On the contrary, when the camphor tree becomes strong, the eyes and nose start to itch badly, and it is basically the rhythm of sneezing all the way without wearing a mask.

    It is said that someone sneezed 10,000 times a day and turned into a jet plane

    The flowers of camphor are dense and small. When the wind blows, the fluff will fall down and get entangled in the hair, which is not easy to dust off.

    Looking at the pedestrians all over the street, the hair, shoulders, and corners of clothes are decorated with scattered flowers, very light yellow, a very versatile color, and I feel inexplicably beautiful.

    The aroma of camphor is not strong, unlike the roses all over the wall, it can immediately seduce the sense of smell of passers-by with its rich aroma.  It is vague, lingering.  When you say yes, there is a little bit, and when you say no, it seems that there is really no such thing.

    I am reluctant to wear sunglasses, worried that I will miss the color of flowers in the corner and street.  Wearing the mask and taking it off again, I can't bear to miss the deep and shallow fragrance all over the city.

    Late spring and early summer is a very good time.  (Remember the site URL: www.hlnovel.com
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