autumn

Autumn is a lovely child. She gently came to the field and painted the fruit of golden and yellow orange on a fruit tree. It was like a magnificent picture of the master pen, which was particularly eye-catching. Stepping into the orchard, when the peasant uncle picked up the ripe fruit with both hands, the smile on his face was so bright.

Autumn is a beautiful child. She sneaked into the park and sprinkled the sun on every corner of the earth, shining every single flower. The breeze blew, and the flowers shared their fragrances with others unselfishly, and they were full of sorrows.

Autumn is a naughty child. She hurried to the earth, shook the branches for a while, and wandered around the tree for a while. The leaves are her good companions, and she would rather be the paving carpet for her to leave the tree tip to raise her.

Autumn is a simple child. She gently came to the world, neither dressed as a green leaf, nor dazzled like a safflower. She is not as cruel as summer, steaming dry everything with the heat of the sun; not as ruthless as winter, using the screaming wind to smash the earth, but silently offering, wiping the sweat with the breeze.

Autumn is a pure child. She gently came to us and brought a beautiful sky, like a pure blue painted by the painter. It was a light blue hung in the sky, and there was no color at all.

The autumn is beautiful, the beauty is in the autumn chrysanthemum, the beauty is in the blue sky, the beauty is in the home garden, the beauty is in the scene of the harvest, the beautiful fruit in the sweat poured out...