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我轻轻地抚摸着面前的这棵老槐树,凝望着树上的一簇簇槐花,那洁白的花儿随着微风漫天飞舞,空气里弥漫着槐花的清香。我的眼睛不由得湿润了。我想起外婆,想起外婆家的老槐树。外出上学,我离开了家。每每听到有人谈起槐花,我就怦然心动。我不知道槐花于别人有怎样的意义,于我,她有着血浓于水的记忆,那是恩重如山的爱啊。老槐树长在外婆家院子门口。那是一株虽无壮硕的枝干,却有着坚韧筋骨的老槐树。外婆说她最爱那棵树,最爱我。每年四月,当
I gently stroked the old tree in front of this tree, staring at the trees on a cluster of Sophora japonica, the white flowers flying with the breeze in the air filled with the fragrance of Sophora japonica. My eyes can not help but get wet. I remembered my grandmother, remembering the old locust tree. Going to school, I left home. Every time I hear someone talking about Sophora japonica, I suddenly heartbeat. I do not know what the meaning of Sophorae blossoms is to others. For me, she has a blood-filled memory. Old tree grows in front of Grandma’s yard. That is a plant without strong stalks, but has a strong bones of the old locust tree. Grandmother said she loved the tree, love me. Every year in April, when