Write an article in autumn with 350 words in hieroglyphics.

Come to the wilderness. I'm here to visit autumn.

In autumn, in the wilderness, there is news every day. Stare at the sky, it's blue! How clear, how quiet.

Autumn is already deep.

In autumn, on this small island in the south, although butterflies fly over the flowers, it is confusing; And I am a person who likes autumn, and I have already found the news of autumn from the whisper of grass.

Knowing that autumn is coming, I always think about autumn. I love dreaming in silence, and I don't like talking when my mind is very full or extremely empty. So, I ran to the wilderness, leaned against the tall coconut tree and stared at the sky. The soul often gains: a few whistles, a colorful cloud and a lot of warm sunshine.

However, since when, it occupies the whole space. Where is the cloud floating on the top of the coconut tree? Only blue, pure and bright blue, shines in the sky. The sky suddenly rose high and far.

The hot golden awn has converged, and the brightness of the sun has turned silvery white, just like moonlight, a little chilly! After the harvest, the fields are bare and yellow; Cracked soil is not moistened by gurgling water. Shrubbery stands on the ridge; The fragrance of cornflower is solidified in the air; In the cold sunshine, the air is clear and transparent.

The sky is wide and the ground is empty. This solemn world is just what I am looking for. Ah! Autumn is quiet, autumn is mature; Autumn is a season full of wisdom.

I love autumn, and I love the deep solemnity of autumn. I love autumn, because I always have the image of autumn in my heart.

How can you forget the color of your hometown? How can you forget that cold autumn goose?

It was a late autumn evening, and I was walking alone on the banks of the ancient Yellow River. The long river that has flowed for thousands of miles has become a trickle. On the other side of the green mountain, it also lost its summer green, and was covered with a purple cage, noble and solemn. On the mountainside, LAM Raymond was drunk and blushed. It shone like a sunset for a long time! The September wind, whistling, came from the wilderness and then lingered by the lonely river. By the Yellow River, all the big reed flowers are in full bloom! When the wind passed, it appeared silvery white like waves.

-In the season when fragrant flowers all fall, why are the reed flowers in Leng Yan so white? Maple leaf, why is it so beautiful?

I was lost in reverie.

When I found my shadow getting longer and longer, I suddenly looked up. The autumn sun has set, obliquely casting a yellow halo, covering the earth in a confused light and shadow. For a moment, autumn seems to be stronger.

"Ga-"

A swan's long sound, across the quiet blue sky, like a long arrow, penetrated the silent center and roared away. My mind suddenly felt a shock, watching the well-organized team drift away and disappear. I seem to understand something, but I am a little confused. However, a desolate ancient meaning will remain in my heart forever.

Since I left my hometown, I have to go to the wilderness every autumn. I want to find, find an autumn color to cure my longing!

The wind is blowing and there is a rustling sound in the forest. "Autumn is here!" I told myself. He went into the Woods and listened quietly.

Really, nothing is more pleasant than the sound of autumn. In autumn, the noisy world settled down, leaving a quiet. The rustling wind, with cold strings, plays a faint tune, which makes people intoxicated but not addicted, enlightening but not wrong, what a refreshing autumn sound!

Why is it addictive? How is it wrong again? It's been 20 years since I left the great plains where I was raised! After 20 years away from home, who can pretend to be sad for autumn like a miserable teenager?

Walking alone in the Woods, I listened carefully to the sound of autumn. What occupies my heart is no longer a touch of sadness. What I want is to scream in the sky and spread my wings like a swan. In this long series of days, I learned the truth of life and the quiet beauty of death!

Autumn is quiet, and autumn is not a sad season.

Autumn colors are refreshing, and autumn sounds are refreshing. After the long and dark summer, we should prepare for the golden autumn harvest.

Autumn is mature, and autumn is not the season of withering.

How can life degenerate? Flowers wither for the growth of fruits; After the leaves fall, they will still become soil to protect the roots. Death is eternity, and an instant is eternity. Life will never wither

Dead leaves are dancing in the wind.

Autumn is already deep.

In the north, on the lonely river beach, the reed flowers in Leng Yan should be blooming in full spirit again! And the red leaves all over the mountain, in the cold autumn wind, should also have passionate cries!

school holiday in autumn

Countless golden autumn leaves, like boats rippling with the "waves", stagger and stop … dotted with the cement pavement as gray as the sky. Gradually, more and more golden leaves, slowly … slowly … paved the road, layered on the road, giving people a beautiful and comfortable feeling.

As soon as I came to the garden, it was full of autumn scenery. While enjoying the autumn scenery, I found a falling magnolia leaf under my feet. I picked it up gently and observed it carefully: it is more like a boat, and there is a thick and long stem on the dark green leaves, which is particularly obvious. The front feels smooth, with a yellow border around it, which is very nice. The broad leaves are uneven on the back, with a layer of brown hair, short and dense. Magnolia leaves are relatively strong, and it seems that she wants to use her small body to resist the autumn wind, but her weak body can't resist the ruthless cold wind in autumn. I carefully put it in the leaf collection bag.

Miss Qiu stayed in the breeze, and the leaves fell one after another. Only the leaves that are not afraid of the cold wind are still motionless and afraid of the autumn wind. Red, yellow and green ... autumn is really a colorful season.

I walked along the elegant path, and the birds in the forest were scared by my footsteps and flew to the blue sky ... It was convenient for me to stop working. At first glance, I have come to the red world-Hongfenglin. Looking at the red maple all over the mountain, it looks like a red ocean from a distance, bright and dazzling. I couldn't help walking over and holding a maple leaf. Wow, it's beautiful! Like a slap, bright red, bright red; Like a fan, flat; Like a blooming flower, it will never fade! Before I left, I picked up a green maple, which I will cherish forever. It is a symbol of youth, beauty and passion! Looking back, the red maple is like a tenacious fire, no matter how much wind and rain it goes through, it will not go out.

It's another autumn, and Qiu Guang is warm and bright with a smile. The yellowed leaves make the warmth flow everywhere, and it once again tells the children how beautiful it was in summer. In its short life, it unfortunately bloomed the only green in its life. It reluctantly left the tree, bid farewell to the once lush, left the branches, and flew down with that long-simmering dream.

From time to time, the cool breeze rolls up the autumn leaves that have just fallen from the trees and flies higher and higher. It left the embrace of the tree and danced in the warmth of autumn on the stage of the sky. Although it is such a simple action, it dances with charm, charm, lightness and movement ... Although the clothes are broken and the skirt is broken, it flies with the will and its eyes are shining with hot light. At this time, the green vitality of the leaves is no less than that of the blooming autumn chrysanthemum. At this time, the space seems to be only used by autumn leaves, which is even more heroic. After a few beams of light, its mind is more comfortable, pure defects, calm and intense, and transcendental joy! Draw a circle of life in the air! Suddenly, the wind played a joke and blew up the autumn clothes. The leaves are out of balance, like a golden butterfly, tumbling in the air, making one last effort before landing. Finally, the autumn leaves fell to the ground.

Walking on a path full of autumn leaves, passing through the autumn leaves floating in front of us, autumn leaves are still falling with the wind, one after another. Suddenly I wanted to reach out to catch a fallen leaf, so I slowly reached out and an unknown leaf fell into my hand. Looking at this autumn leaf carefully, I found that it had been torn, and an arc scar was clearly left in the withered body of that leaf. A gust of autumn wind blew and took away the leaves in my hand, but it was still that leaf that surged in my mind. Why did the lively autumn leaves that once danced happily accept the fall and finally landed on the ground? ...

The fall of autumn leaves is the beginning of a new life. After the severe winter, it will definitely jump again and show hope. Ye's life is bumpy. When it matures, it also reaches the end of its life. Both sides of it are full of hardships. You have to endure all your life not to let the wind blow down and the rain destroy you. Autumn leaves are not as delicate as roses and elegant as lilies, but they have a unique charm. When Qiu Lai arrived, the leaves came down from the beautiful stage in obscurity, making more room for emitting interesting fruits. Ye Er stretches branches and leaves from bud to Zhixia until it falls in the autumn wind; Without asking for anything in return, I finally returned to the earth. Fertile land and strong roots will make nature colorful and full of vitality next year. This silent dedication moved me.

Ye Hua's letterhead was filled with thoughts and was sent to a distant place. Ye Hua's canoe sailed with dreams. Ye is telling everything, your experience, your troubles and troubles. I deeply understand that you have no color, but you are writing the melody of life with your heart and don't want to see you die. I hope to accept the hardships of winter with you and wait for the update.

The autumn wind dances happily, sweeping away the light of fallen leaves and turning them into the earth for the fragrance of the earth. My autumn leaves are ordinary, I would like to turn into an autumn leaf!

Peng Xueming autumn harvest scattered board

In a blink of an eye, the spring seeds sown in February and March grew into crops and the fruits matured. Heavy rice has bent down and bowed its head, and Huang Cancan's corn, pregnant with children, is getting heavier and heavier. Like a fat tail of a yellow dog, the ears of grain waddled towards Shan Ye. This yellow crop, like layers of yellow sunshine, is thick and paved, flowing through the hillside, rushing to the foot of the mountain, flowing through the hillside and rushing to the foot of the mountain. When the wind blows, the dyed autumn colors will roll up one mountain after another. First, they will fall down one by one, and then they will stand up one by one. They are boundless and endless.

This is a beautiful scenery during the autumn harvest.

In the scenery, the sun came out with brilliant morning light. In the red light and shadow, cows, sheep, rickety ducks and children who didn't attend morning classes came. Several women came out of the village with sickles and cages, and several women came out of the village with sickles and cages. In front of them, a group of men were carrying laundry baskets and holding cereal buckets.

Start cutting when you enter the field, and start playing after cutting a corner. The sounds of "pong, pong, pong, pong" and "om-om-om-om-om-om" are all very excited to respond to the distant echo. This is a country music directed by Seiji Ozawa, which is heavy, slow, simple and kind. Although it is not decorated, it sends out an echo. Although busy, from time to time, someone approached the bucket, holding a spoonful of grain, holding, weighing and holding it, trying to put his lips together and blow it, but he couldn't close his smile, so he had to open his five fingers and let joy flow through his fingers.

People bow and bend to each other, and the clear sun shines all over the body. The dazzling gold jumps and trembles, like a river in music, like a river with flowing springs, and like a river with rising springs. The farmer's back is wet, and thin sweat flows in the plank road with different shades and communicates with each other. Land and land exchange. Communication between people and land. If it were not for the black soil and human skin color, the crops in this bright sunshine would not rustle so much, and the crops would not smell fragrant in generate on the hillside and in the fields.

When the weather is too hot, people miss the rainy day and the wind. The sky is as blue as an ink painting, and the white clouds are delicate silk, which seems to be broken. So I straightened up, lifted my straw hat, wiped my sweat, looked up at the sky, lifted my skirt, and then began to become as hot as a child shouting "Come to the shade, the sun will pass soon".

With a "ho ho-",the wind came.

There is another "ho ho-"wind coming.

The branches all over the mountain fall like waves, which are layers of black; The grass stalks crawling all over the hillside have fallen down and are a layer of rolling green; The paddy fields with one dam and one dam are therefore like a wave, a layer of surging gold. This constant cry is a simple song by Gu Zhuo, a mountain man. He sticks to the ridge, walks through the clouds and follows the wind. This is really strange. If you shout loudly, the wind will be sensed! Although I don't know what kind of law it is, it is hearty and pleasant.

With the wind, a huge cloud came from the mountain pass, leisurely riding horses, taking cows, rabbits and wine, soothing the broad shade and tenderness of the villa. People take this opportunity to talk while strengthening, talking about how two dog and Qin Xiao stole the house, talking about their four aunts who were pregnant in their fifties, talking about the director of a department in a province, and talking about the blacksmith's second son being admitted to Beijing as a graduate student. So laugh, so scold, so unconsciously cut a big mound. I bumped into a big hill, and before I knew it, it was noon, and then it was noon. Millet is eaten in ten days and a half every year. These days, Xiaomi can't finish. Your family hired white workers, and so did his family. It's been a month and I'm still playing! Today alone, Zhang Er's millet was picked out of ten and eight, but it was still neat and big!

At present, there is a valley dam. Beyond the valley dam is a river. On the other side of the river is the beach. On the other side of the beach is a valley dam. Then there are mountains, one mountain and one tree, one mountain and one corn forest. The mountains are rugged, like the backs of carp, sliding one by one.

Yes. The corn forest is in pieces, such as carpets and belts, bypassing the mountains one by one. Words without feathers and bones grow wings and fly out as folk songs. Singing until the millet is green and yellow, the corn is ripe, and of course love is red and sweet. Such as shouting folk songs, mixed with the salty bitterness of sweat and the orange and yellow olive flavor of the land, rolling in from far and near. From time to time came the laughter of Lang Lang and the sound of depressed corn popping. That corn stalk is like a forest, like an arm, the soldiers are mighty and tall, and the barn stalks are also big and big, each one is one and a half pounds. All the way down, the children cut it with a knife, and some poles chewed it up as sweet as rock sugar!

Around people, oxtails graze with whips, and when the tender grass tips are chewed, a mouthful of juice gushes out. The red dragonfly perches leisurely and quietly on the back of the cow, enjoying peace and happiness, which makes people grow a kind of love and envy for no reason. More gray, green and yellow dragonflies fly closely overhead, sharing beautiful autumn colors with people and nature.

The sun has gradually disappeared, and the mountains are still extraordinary. Brilliant aperture, closing, sprinting, spraying from every mountain top, swaying away at the intersection of trees. The fog and smoke in the kitchen also climbed up from the painter's Mo Dou in a soft image, touching and soft, which complemented the masculinity of the mountain.

At this point, the river is already a song. A truckload of corn was piled on the beach. A cart of millet was piled on the beach. There are bundles of soybeans and baskets of millet on the beach. It's time to call it a day, and we have to jump into the river, wash, clean and clean again. Healthy tendons and firm breasts are all exposed in your field of vision, which is a charming sculpture. Even if it is primitive and rough, it is soft and charming, intoxicated with no evil thoughts. Every elderly person has an old story, and that enviable experience, like a woman's sickle, is deeply engraved in her heart. Therefore, when young people's jokes go with the flow, they only add one sentence occasionally. Although the smile on their lips has not disappeared, they are thinking and calculating in their hearts. In the past, the field was someone else's land. I was busy all my life and couldn't support a family. Now the first floor has been filled with corn, the eaves have been built, and the cabinets and barrels of miscellaneous grains such as soybeans and mung beans are also full. Should Xiaomi be released yesterday? We must build another small warehouse! Thinking about it, I said hello, and dozens of men went ashore naked.

Those dozens of packages, end to end, are shining and mighty. The autumn tune that Xiangxi has been shouting for thousands of years, like the boatman's song when a boat crosses a dangerous beach, is the most heroic symbol of masculinity, agitation and life overwhelming nature:

Let's focus on it! Hey!

Beat rice! Hey!

August is yellow! Hey!

Grain storage! Hey!

Ten tables of wine! Hey!

Everyone has it! Hey!

Ten tables of dishes! Hey!

Stay at home! Hey!

This autumn! Hey!

Drunk! Hey!

Next autumn! Hey!

To Beijing! Hey!

Autumn lights

Autumn has come, and the shadow of the wind shines in Shan Ye. The leaves began to fall off the branches in an orderly way. One of the two adjacent leaves falls first, and when the other leaves fall, it can no longer see its old neighbor. When the handover day came, some berries in the bushes were covered with purple and black. A green mantis scratched lightly with a saw knife, and the slurry rushed out instantly, purple through the soil under the branches.

The rice has been put into the warehouse, and the rustling in the autumn wind is leaking from the fingers of farmers-golden ears. The farmer has gone far and won't look back. This golden ear is destined to last until the end of autumn. It was forgotten and could not enter the warm barn with hundreds of millions of brothers. At this time, its beauty trumps everything else. In my opinion, it exists independently because of forgetting, which constitutes a moving scene of the silent field. Berries and ears of rice stand out in the cold wind, and the past of autumn is the end of their lives. Many glamorous people come here and naturally become dull and clean. Like famous actors on the stage, they took off their costumes, washed away the lead and walked in the market, just like an ordinary middle-aged woman. A person can't stay on the stage for too long, life is idealized, and the elements of ostentation and extravagance make people forget the essential part, and they can't remember that the stage is temporarily set up and will collapse after the curtain call.

In the dark night, the car passed the same quiet mountain village, and the small window opened on the simple earth wall gave out dim light. The family gathered in a sealed room, guarding the fire and keeping their feet on the ground. The barn is an immortal lamp that shines on the good mood of the family. Through the fragrant wooden board, the family's hope for survival is pinned-spring began to sprout, which was exposed by xia yang, and now it has finally come true. At that time, it was so long, like a lamp in the Qin Dynasty, that it was really lit in the Han Dynasty. There is so much alternation, connection and running-in in the middle-indeed, I have seen those farmers who can't light the lights in the end. Autumn has gone, and winter has come, so they crouch dejectedly, banging on the plow that was eaten into the mud in spring to ask the truth. Rich families are enjoying the gifts of autumn in a down-to-earth manner, remembering the interesting details of spring and summer when chatting, and there is a kind of comfort in the opening and closing of lips and teeth. It seems that only when hope does not fail can there be a smile on the brow.

A book begins in the spring breeze and summer rain and ends in the last few days of late autumn. The scholar breathed a sigh of relief. On several occasions, he looked like a lamp holder, with erratic flames, ups and downs in his heart, and an inscrutable expression looming on his thin face. I pushed open the window in the middle of the night, and all the lights at home went out, but I still trudged in the dark-the lights in the rectification period cost too much money, and two flames danced in my pupils during the day. Writing about the countryside is full of bamboo shoots, and the pace is slower than the previous chapter. Everyone seems to have such a feeling that this part completed in the countryside is like an animal returning to the column in the afterglow of the sunset, with fine steps and calm expression, covered with thick gauze. There should also be a similar reading environment-under the old camphor tree at the head of the village, in the quiet and bleak rain pavilion, on the simple and simple covered bridge.

The words in the afterglow of autumn wind are more reliable than those in warm spring, and its coldness is an unprecedented plot, which condenses gorgeous juice. When it comes to the literati in this solar term, some of the charm we call is borne by simplicity.

Gradually become a late autumn lover. From the yellowing of the branches to the falling, the ground has shown the rhythm of winter. The remaining ink still at the edge of the inkstone was blown dry by the wind, mixed with some water, and sketched hastily, barren and cold, revealing the random state of the bottom of the pen. Thousands of trees are rare, paraquat is yellow, and a wanderer who has walked through the autumn wind has a bright heart. Some scars are covered by lush leaves in spring, and some childhood love is either displayed or abandoned. How many people and things have the seasons changed! I still remember revising a stack of manuscripts written in spring in autumn, putting pen to paper like a knife and axe, and deleting all branches and leaves-this is the fate of words. Flowers, like many fruits, bloom in spring and summer. Whether they exist or not can only be confirmed in autumn.

Some lights don't come on until autumn, and their innate fate makes them stop in early autumn. Don't talk to summer insects, don't talk to people, because life has no conditions to talk. Looking back at the flowers that were once full of vitality in spring, we can't help but ask how many mysteries are hidden in the process of space: when time is carrying countless floating creatures in a hurry, the beauty of mourning for the dead is also staged at the same time-when a person goes to Qiu Lai, those full of rich and empty spring worries are written off at this time.

Autumn in Zhang Xiaofeng

Morning glory vines are everywhere, and small purple waves have been hitting my window until it suddenly closes.

Sunlight is dazzling white, like tin, like many glowing metals. Which wise ancient people remember that wood is like spring and gold is like autumn? We like the green color of wood, but how can we not admire the brilliance of metal?

By the way, you can feel it even with your eyes closed. In the clouds, on the reeds, on the bamboos all over the mountains, and in the long winds all over the mountains, it fluttered down like this.

In our city, if the summer is too long, the autumn scenery will inevitably appear later. But autumn will never be confused-this hard and clear metal season. Let's recognize it from the cool breeze, let's recognize it from the newly cut grass fragrance.

This is the 25th autumn in my life, but I am still very excited. As a poet said.

"Still superstitious about beauty."

Yes, when the fiftieth autumn comes, I'm afraid I'll still be so obsessed with beauty.

At that time, I was in Nanjing, and I just started to remember some fragmentary things. There is a beautiful village in this painting. I quietly walked away from the adults and sat alone on the grass. The plane leaves began to fall, bringing many mysterious aesthetic feelings into my heart. I was lost at once, and my little heart could hardly bear the excitement. I just picked up a fallen leaf in confusion. The leaves are yellow-brown and curved, like a boat carrying dreams. There are two beautiful phoenix trees beside the boat, which will last for a long time. Every time there is a gust of wind, I shuttle through the rain of fallen leaves and pick up the plane trees all over the ground. There must be one or two buttonwood trees that I didn't pick up sprouting on the grass, right? Twenty years later, I seem to hear the distant west wind and the rustling of leaves in the wind. I can also see those boats carrying dreams, sailing on the grassland, sailing in the hope of a seed.

I remember that evening on the small balcony, and at the end of my sight was an ancient city wall. In the double desolation of dusk and autumn, I often don't know who added a flute desolation. I like this sad beauty, inexplicably so. My little uncle once walked all the way to the wall. Those mottled stones and overgrown grass make me feel indescribable. When I grow up, I always feel familiar with the gloomy and sad artistic conception when I read Xin Jiaxuan's words. What words are actually familiar to me? What I am familiar with is the autumn colors of ancient Nanjing.

Later, when I arrived in Liuzhou, the city was full of mountains and trees. Walking in the street, there is always the smell of orange pomelo on both sides. There is a mountain in front of the school. I always thought it was a hundred thousand mountains in geography textbooks. In autumn, the mountains are clear and yellow, and the blue sky appears higher.

"Yuanyuan," I asked my companion in awe. "Can you teach Gong, our art teacher, to draw this mountain?"

"Yes, he can."

"Of course, of course," she cried eagerly. "It's a pity that he broke his hand playing basketball recently. Otherwise, he can paint all over Liuzhou and all over the world. "

There was a long silence.

"Is it true?"

"Really, of course."

I looked at her and then at the mountain, the sacred, beautiful and deep autumn mountain.

"No, it's impossible." I suddenly said with certainty, "He can't draw, certainly not."

I don't remember how the debate ended that day. And that girl Yuanyuan and I have been separated for more than ten years. If I can see it again, I will still insist on it like that.

No one can draw a mountain like that, no one can.

Yuanyuan, what about you? Do you admit it now? I met a girl named Yuanyuan the year before last, and I was anxious to ask her, but she smiled and said that she didn't remember living in Liuzhou. Then she's not you. No one can forget Liuzhou, and no one can forget that lush, heavy, golden and indescribable mountain.

The days were exhausted by the west wind, and a series of metallic days were accompanied by happy jingles. Finally, when people grow up, they can read Autumn Songs, ride bicycles and imagine the feeling of Lu Fangweng's "listening to the autumn wind all the time".

Travel in autumn, as usual, there are glowing memories in the photo album. I still remember that time, when I came back from swimming, I sat on a tour bus.

"Which season do you like best?" I asked Ji.

"Autumn." She simply replied that her eyes were full of all the beautiful Qiu Guang.

I suddenly became happy.

"Me too, ah, we all are."

She told me many stories about autumn, about Shan Ye and the countryside. She also described to me the small pond where she often sleeps and the endless fruits in the forest.

As the bus went along, the students got off at the station and the carriages became more and more empty.

"Chi," I suddenly lowered my head, "when we get old, our life companions will get off one by one, and our seats will slowly loosen. What will happen to you? "

"I will be very sad." She said gloomily.

What are we doing? Zhi, we just said some stupid things about little girls, which are deep and incomprehensible.

However, in any case, the days when we hide in the bushes to study and sleep together are beautiful.

Now, you are working in the deep mountains in central China, working like a missionary, and loving those simple mountain souls from the bottom of your heart. At the beginning of this year, we met again, and the mood was still so good. Sitting on a small ferry, the thin blue fog of Danshui River has not been uncovered in the morning, and the sound is very loud. Go on with your mountain story.

"Sometimes, when I go to the mountains, I slowly climb many mountains by myself." You said, "Suddenly, I stopped and found mountains all around! It's all majestic blue! I stood in surprise, ah, how can it be so beautiful! "

I look at you, Ji, and my heart is full of happiness. After so many years apart, we are all safe, and our dreams are all safe-those high mountains! Dreams that do not belong to the horizon.

Now, autumn in our mountains is very thick and white. Occasionally, an autumn rain falls, and a thin chill attacks people. There is often a cold moonlight after rain, which makes people feel sad about autumn. What about your home? Shouldn't a faint autumn scenery be staged outside the window? How suitable autumn is for the love of an old friend, and how suitable it is for the bright dream wrapped in silver!

With the wind, purple waves churned, turning the coolness of a mountain in autumn into my heart. I like this season, but I feel very lonely.

It's not that I don't love the tenderness of spring, nor that I don't yearn for the heat of summer. Only life should be serious, mature and sacred, just like what autumn has given us-but who knows? Who knows? Who will appreciate the depth?

The mountains in the distance are retreating, and the ruins in the distance are covered with calm indigo. Moreover, the woody orchids nearby are still fragrant. (Fragrance is really a kind of power that can govern a large area of land. ) Xiaoxiao rushed out from the cracks. In Yuanye, there was a line of running script that no one could understand. This is a poem with vivid twists and turns, which is used to describe pure Qiu Guang.

And my title page is empty, I don't have a poem, but I love autumn with all my piety and awe.

May my life be the same. There are not too many gorgeous spring flowers, too many floating Xia Yun, no noise, no rotating colors, only a quiet and simple white, only the depth and seriousness of mature life, only dreams, as eager and rich as a red maple.

Autumn, this hard and bright metal season, is my deep love.