My family has a tall jujube tree. It grows in my yard. I like this jujube tree very much.
Spring, the recovery of all things, the flowers open, the jujube tree in my early already secretly yellow buds to grow. A few days later, yellow to green, green leaves and dense branches, covered with fresh green jujube.
In early summer, the jujube trees were flourishing, so many green leaves piled on another cluster without leaving any gaps, just like a big green umbrella that covered half of the yard. Soon, the branches of the small flowers out of the small yellow, from time to time exudes a drunken fragrance, a group of bees, butterflies flying in flowers. As the flower fades, branches out a string of water Lingling beans like small jujube.
Autumn comes, the red jujube pressed the branches bent, far from looking like a red lanterns hanging on the branches, let people see the slobber, pick a date into the mouth, sweet and crisp, full of oneself.
The cold winter, black and gray jujube covered with glittering snow, like wearing a white gauze dress, a gust of wind blowing, jade crumbs like snow leaves fluttering in the wind, like The heavenly maids scatter blossoms.
Ah! Jujube, you bring joy to people, I love you jujube.
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