The fragrance of paper

 　　I remember when I was little, every year before the Spring Festival, my family would go to the store to buy newspapers to wallpaper the walls. I was always overjoyed. I would carefully select each sheet, keeping the interesting and favorite parts separately, and saving the rest for wallpapering. Even so, when applying the paste, I would try to leave the favorite parts exposed, which often slowed down the work, and the colors of the more colorful pictures were often darker, inevitably earning me a scolding from my parents!

　　When I had some free time, I would flip through the saved newspapers, a faint fragrance wafting from them. Reading them brought me immense peace and joy. In those days, this was enough for me. I often stood by the wall, browsing the newspapers, or was drawn to the newspapers hanging on the ceiling, gazing up at them for a long time until my neck ached.

　　When I was in junior high, "New Year's cards" were very popular for a while, with all sorts of exquisite designs and colors, some even accompanied by pleasant music. Reading them, the subtle fragrance and the warmth between the lines brought immense joy. Looking back now, that was the most genuine and simple feeling. Although advanced communication devices have shortened the spatial distance between people, it always feels like something is missing. It's hard to recapture that feeling of waiting, that beautiful sentiment of reading a letter from afar.

　　In my student days, almost everyone had their own diary, in their favorite colors, filled with their favorite illustrations, snippets of life, poems, song lyrics, and often decorated with pictures of movie stars, some even with a little padlock. Occasionally, I would open it, immersing myself in its pages, truly moved, keeping it for many years. Even though some of the writing is faded, it still feels like it's been separated by the dust of time—such simple times, such unpretentious growth!

　　Later, I became fascinated with calligraphy, which stemmed from my father's frequent writing of couplets for the New Year. Whenever this happened, I would stay by his side for a long time, captivated by the profound and exhilarating beauty of calligraphy. A sheet of Xuan paper unfolds, a pure white space for contemplation. The intoxicating fragrance of ink and paper fills the air. Twirling the brush, I savor the delicate beauty of its supple grip. I often enjoy reading calligraphy, appreciating the slender, fine paper, its resinous, leaf-veined scent and texture, exuding an ancient charm and profound history. Holding it between my fingers, it feels gentle and comforting.

　　I cherish the moments spent flipping through its pages. Although typing on computers is convenient now, and I'm accustomed to the touch of a keyboard, I still hold a deep longing for paper and pen. I love the flowers that bloom from ink, and the fragrance they release.