【正确答案】I thought of the sound of thunder and rain in my hometown. Over there, whenever the violent rumble of thunder reverberated across the valley, the buds of spring would seem to sprout freely after being disturbed and roused up from their slumber in the frozen soil. Then tenderly stroked by the soft hands of fine rain, they would put forth bright green leaves and red flowers. It makes me nostalgic and melancholy to think about the old times and my mind is as depressed as the vast expanse of North China is thirsty. A tear stands in my dull eye and, like the rain lingering in the murky sky, is slow to roll down.