A  sentence  on  my  grammar book goes like this，" The  bird  fell dead  to  ground".

And his  words went  like  this，"Every  bird is to fall  from the asent and into  the  dirt，though  wings is inherent  for  a common bird."

And my memory wander its  road to the  past，at  a sunset of  May  day.  Alone，like a  bunch  of  organish sunshine projecting itself aIong the road，my  shadow foⅡows me  ，and only footprint left in the dying day when  night  is approaching  and  touching my skin  like  breath.

While day's  short  tail  was  still gasped by sunbeam in  the haunted  gIare  of  this  smaⅡ  patch，and though in  dorminance the sprawl of darkness  forgot  some  corners.

Such as that  grassland under sunbeam’s miId kisses，lying beside the road，streches out its  soft  green fur near to my dormitory，and it  wore strings of  pearⅠs on  its  neck，where  tender grass  sprung  in a slender and charming shape.

I moved forward to  it，to see  what I am to see，not an oriented visitor but an aimless wanderer.A dramatic scene heⅠd my  breath  ，and my feet  stuck for a dead bird. Feather  covered close to  its  heart never beat  again. on  the earth increases a  bird;Over  the clouds decreases a bird.Suffer a  loss or welcome a  belonging，what’s the answer?There is  no

definife reply，for life  itself is a  infinite  question.Birds and  mankind，we  answer the divine suspector in different forms，but  in the same essence一 animation’s instinct  to pursuit.Birds fly;we amble，stubbIe，run，strand，dash…And then the finaⅠ  day comes as the first day，when a bird fall  with leaves ever sang and a man elapse like his  best  time ever went.Everything is  to the chaos of death，as well  as the brightness of birth.

A  return to home is a  happy ending .The bird，every morning witnessed its flight;it swey wings and soared  high in sky，and the venture matters.The  bird yearning  for distance paved a wind path  in air，sew the scent  of flowers hidden in forests ，and stirred an  unrestling soul  Ionging for  freedom，dream and love，which are nutritions to  nourish the  barry inner field.I am sure I once  met  it.

There is no regret，Born and die as a bird or man.The nearest is the farthest;a  Iife time to go.The fragrant  earth  yields，buries.