The walnut on Grandpa's mountain is about to ripen. My father asked some of my mother's colleagues to pick the walnut. You must ask, why don't you pick the walnuts before they are ripe? That's because it was late last year and someone else stole it.
This morning, the wind blows, but the sun is hot. We are all very hot. My uncle climbed up the tree and brought down all the walnuts on the whole tree. I picked them on the ground. My two uncles picked walnuts in a moment, and picked them in a moment. My father also picked walnuts with tools specially used for hooking walnuts. By contrast, I am the most relaxed, but still sweaty.
Although picking walnuts is very tired and hot, I forget when I eat walnuts, that is, first bitter, then sweet.