The lake is beautiful, love the water. I love the surging Yangtze River, the mighty Yellow River and the lively streams, but I still love the beautiful and gentle lake. The lake in spring is quiet, just like a mirror, reflecting blue sky, white clouds, red flowers and green trees; In summer, the lake is alive, and frogs are chasing and playing with the flashing sunshine. The lake in autumn is soft, the evening breeze blows gently, and the waves rise with the wind, like rolling cotton; In winter, the lake is hard. It snowed, and the lake became a mirror, reflecting the brilliance of beautiful nature. The lake is lovely, but the lake in the rain is even more touching. It seems that only an ancient poem is needed to set off &”;If you want to compare the West Lake with the West, it&;s always appropriate to dress lightly and wipe thick&”;. Filament-like rain drifted down, like fine needles and ox hair. Listen! The &”;salute&”; in the sky rang, and there was a crazy storm. Did you see the flowers blooming? Do fish dance? Are frogs competing for singers? The salute here will tell you everything. The lake is beautiful.