In late spring, on the iron fence of the Xinruida graphite factory area, the rose flower waterfall bloomed as scheduled. Under the cobalt red roof of the factory building, clusters of pink, white, and yellow intertwined flowers poured down along the rust colored fence, as if draped over the graphite blending industrial area with a dazzling brocade.
Crystal clear and shimmering under the sunlight, reflecting the dewdrops condensed on the petals. Amidst the deep roar of heavy machinery, bees shuttle through the layers of flower beds, picking the sweetness of the symbiosis between industry and nature. The old branches of roses that were trimmed in late autumn last year have now turned new green, winding and clinging to the mottled cement exterior walls of the cooling tower, using soft flower branches to outline the gentle contours of the rigid building.
The twisted roots and stems are deeply rooted in the gaps of the newly laid permeable bricks, and year after year, they measure the trajectory of the factory expansion with the blooming flower crowns. When heavy forklifts carrying graphite materials rumble through the flower gallery, a red snow rises in the trembling air and falls on the black graphite blocks, just like the lightest punctuation in a poem written for industry.
