A small forest! Check out the forest-themed photos of Shenzhen Guiwan Park!

The flowers bask in the warm breeze, and the colorful flowers are lazily exposed to the sun. The sun shines on the face, and the skin is soft and relaxed. The sleepy eyes are half-closed, and the body is lying down without any desire or thought. A gust of wind blows away a butterfly and shakes a broken withered grass. The sun shines brightly, and a bright orange light flashes by. The dazzling edge is filtered, and the ruminating brain stops working. When you close your eyes tightly, you see the endless blue ocean, a kite flying at the bottom of the sea, and a fish jumping out of the water. The critical life and death fall down, and the eternal woman rises. The fragrance of flowers leaves the flowers, and the perception and body are separated. The noble ideal vomits all over the ground, spinning and dizzying. Harmful pleasure devours the soil, and the tentacles take root and parasitize. The green eyes see the black shadow eating the flowers and leaves in the sun. Every time the buds grow, only the earth can feel the same. Guiwan Park is entering summer. The spring has quietly gone, the green leaves are thick, and the river is floating with light and clouds, deep and shallow, performing the indifference of coming and going. The wind is obviously warm, and the fragrance of flowers is much lighter. The soil breathes hard, bringing another flavor to the city. The spring day goes away along the river, and time flows deeply. A kind of love for youth has gone to the other side of the river, from spring to summer, with a leisurely pace, hiding a little nostalgia for every scenery, purple flowers, red leaves, and white bridges urging another spring breeze to flash by, a colorful city silhouette, the youth and dream at the turn of spring and summer. The sea park is breezy. Go to the end of the land and pick up the afterglow of the brilliant spring. The enthusiasm follows closely. Under the coconut tree, the wild river beach rubs the sea surface. It is not the summer wind, but the earth is restless. The wind blows from the sea to the shore, and the coconut tree makes a footnote. The fisherman looks at the sea in silence and stands up a symbol. The sea watcher unloads the busyness, melts into the sea breeze, and cleans. Dry the sea water to precipitate salt, and the sun smears a layer of black on your face, around the corners of your mouth with a smile. Hang a trace of mystery, a kind of gradually self-consistent meditation. You walk by the sea, look at the sea, and brush the sea breeze to capture a frame of pictures, immerse them in your mind, and fall at the end of the sea, where the earth shows the tip of the iceberg.