I walked slowly towards the library with an umbrella in this gentle autumn rain.
Along the way, the sky is always so gloomy, and passers-by always reveal a heavy heart. Because it is raining in Mao Mao, there are not many pedestrians in the past. The stadium, which should have been lively, is empty at the moment, and there are not many diners in the canteen. Everything is so quiet, and this silence is mixed with some serious atmosphere. I walked quietly on a stone bridge, and now it is cold and cheerless, and I have been thoroughly soaked by the autumn rain.
Unconsciously, I came to the library. Compared with the surrounding buildings, the library in the rain looks tall, solemn and lonely. The sky is still so gloomy, and the drizzle is still floating gently in the air. The surrounding vegetation was motionless, and the leaves soaked by autumn rain hung their heads at the moment, as if everything between heaven and earth was so silent. There are no insects, no birds, no people's laughter, as if everything is so serious. I went to the library, took out my card, swiped it on the credit card machine and went in. I walked into one of the stacks.
It is said that books are the ladder of human progress, and now it is really reasonable to think about this sentence.
In this small library, I saw the heavy books on the shelves. Walking between these bookshelves is like coming to the temple of knowledge. It seems that as long as you look up a little, you can see a lot of knowledge emerging overhead. The whole person seems to be in the ocean of knowledge and swim in it. I picked up a book and flipped through it. I often benefit from the contents between the lines.
The bookshelf is full of essays, novels, essays, poems and biographies. Every time I read these books, I feel like I'm talking to these writers, and I get endless gains every time.
In this way, I kept wandering back and forth between bookshelves, constantly colliding with these ideological giants. I picked up a book at random, which was written by Mr. Lu Xun. I read his Diary of a Madman and gave a general introduction to that man's cannibalistic society. It is with the existence of a giant like Lu Xun that we can get in touch with progressive ideas. They're great. If they do not exist, how can we read these great books? They are ideological giants, always leading one era to the next with their own pens, and achieving immortality. We need to learn from them, and we should also learn from them.
One minute passed, and it was already five o'clock in the afternoon in a blink of an eye. I had to quietly put down my book and left the library quietly in the rain.