When the rice in the field is harvested, the maple leaves on the mountain change color. The wild anethole in the wilderness is seeded, and the wild chrysanthemum on the slope is passionate and unrestrained. The sky is blue and high, the clouds are light and white, and a bird with colorful feathers flies over the valley. The gliding posture is gorgeous. The woman walked all the way, searching in the mountains. She has some flowers and some grass in her bamboo basket. Flowers are wild chrysanthemums, with the color of the sun; grass is wild grass, some can name, some have forgotten, but these grass are all with dense and solid grass seeds and sporadic flowers. Some of them are the leaves of camphor tree, the seeds of Litsea cubeba, and the strong fragrance is emitted from these flowers and plants. It’s not exactly what kind of fragrance. Anyway, it’s unique to nature, with the smell of mountains, the warmth of sunshine, and the simplicity and nature of life. The woman gave these flowers a general name: vanilla. In the quiet and open mountains, with bamboo blue on her shoulder, the woman walked through the grass, flowers, seasons, nature’s gifts, joyful mood, and distant poetry. The woman arranges, sun dries, processes and collects herbs in glass bottles. Vanilla sticks are placed in vases on the bedside table. There is vanilla in the pages of the book. There is vanilla on the wall behind the computer desk. That small wooden stool is also made of camphor tree. When women wake up, they read books, surf the Internet, or write some words in the elegant fragrance of vanilla; when women go to bed, they dream in the influence of vanilla, which is full of the flavor of vanilla and the beautiful wilderness. Women love mountains because they have scenery and herbs. Women love herbs because they have nature, simplicity and freshness of the earth. No matter how far you go, the woman’s eyes are always in the mountains; no matter where you come back, the woman’s luggage must be filled with herbs. The breath of the land and the natural color enter the memory of women through vanilla and become the eternal scenery in women’s heart. The woman boiled the herbs in the water and poured them into the bath. She refuses all artificial spices. Only the herbs she picked by herself are the best and purest. Vanilla soaked her skin, her years, her heart. When she walked into the crowd, she saw some people stop involuntarily and said to herself in surprise: what fragrance? Good fresh! She smiled quietly, her heart full of joy. The mountains are far away from the city, the vanilla is far away from the rest of the world, but it is not far away. Scenery in the eyes, more in the heart; romance in the candlelight, more inadvertently. Women bathed in the fragrance of vanilla, walking in the noisy downtown, feeling calm and peaceful. She was thinking about the next day when she went to the mountain, the sunshine in the mountains, the herbs Unconsciously, the woman is intoxicated.