Dawn, the pale blue sky inlaid with a few sparse and residual stars.
Stars are still shining, and on the horizon, the ocean and the sky cuddle, in the faint blue light of dawn. The smell of salt and flowers is now thicker.
Morning, cool moist wind blows through the broken window, occupies every cornerand leaves quietly, painting the front door with a coat of dreamy white color.
Morning, urged by the sound of rooster, stretching its lazy arms, smiling and shining the first rays of glory warmly, into a little room, turning it golden.
Morning, dews glistening and sparkling brightly, vibrantly. The green bamboo reflecting pure luster and sheen, glittering green halo circling the entire forest.
Gorgeous red glow tinting half the sky, pastel colors are sprinkled in the park.
Morning, plume of smoke floating over rooftops, the air suffused with veil-like mist.
Birds are singing, flowers are flourishing, it’s a fresh and lively morning.
The sound of morning is calling, calling you to open the door, waiting for you to dance with it.
Morning, the streets are serene. When the first ray of dawn pierces through the mist, the streets will usher in a warm balmy morning. Everything in the streets is shrouded soft morning light.
The morning sunlight is quiet and graceful, making people feel calm, relaxed and happy.
Freshness descends from the sky. Everything is pure and clean, like an ink painting, permeated with the fragrance of grass.