Beautiful autumn

The beautiful autumn came quietly to us...

Look! The mountain oxen undulating, the purple small waves have been hitting my window before they suddenly slammed.

The sun is dazzling white, like tin, like many glowing metals. Which smart old man thinks of using the elephant-like spring and the golden elephant autumn? We like the green of the wood, but how can we not admire the whiteness of the metal.

That's right, it's this white, you can feel it with your eyes closed. In the clouds, on the reeds, on the bamboos of the mountains, in the long winds of the valley, this kind of chaos was suppressed.

In our city, the summer is too long, and the autumn colors will not be able to play later. But autumn will never be confused - this hard and clear metal season. Let us recognize it from the cool breeze, let us recognize it from the fresh grass.

It is already the twenty-fifth autumn in life, but it is still so exciting. As a poet said.

"Still still superstitious."

Yes, by the time of the 50th autumn, I am afraid that I am obsessed with beauty.

At that time, in Nanjing, I just started to remember some piecemeal things. There was a beautiful countryside in the picture. I quietly walked away from the adults and sat alone on the grass. The leaves of the phoenix tree began to fall. Falling, put a lot of mysterious beauty into my heart together. I suddenly became confused, and my little heart couldn’t bear this excitement. I just picked up a fallen leaf like that. The leaves are yellow-brown, curved, like a dream boat, and there are two beautiful indus on the ship's side. Every time I had a gust of wind, I was in the rain of fallen leaves, picking up the phoenix tree. Will there be one or two phoenix seeds that I have not picked up on the grass? For twenty years, I seem to be able to hear the distant west wind and the fallen leaves in the wind. I can still see the ships carrying the dreams, sailing in the grasslands, sailing in the hope of a seed.

I remember the dusk on the small balcony, and the end of the line of sight is an ancient wall. In the double bleakness of the twilight and autumn colors, it is often unknown to anyone to add a desolation of the flute. I like this kind of beautiful beauty, I like it so inexplicably. Xiao Yan took the walk to the side of the city wall, the mottled stones, the sprawling grass, so that I could not tell the impression.

When I grew up reading Xin Jiaxuan's words, I always felt so familiar with the sorrowful and desolate mood. In fact, what kind of words do I familiar with? What I am familiar with is the autumn colors of the ancient city of Nanjing.

Later, when I arrived in Liuzhou, all the cities were mountains and trees. Walking down the street, the fragrant orange grapefruit is always on both sides. There is a mountain in front of the school. I always think that it is the 100,000 mountains in the geography textbook. In the autumn, the mountain is clear and yellow, and the blue sky is higher.

"Yuan Yuan," I asked my companion with great awe. "Can you teach the teacher Gong who can teach us the art?"

"Yes, he can."

"Of course, of course," she screamed eagerly. "Unfortunately, he recently broke his basketball hand, or else he can paint all of Liuzhou and the world."

Silence for a while.

"is that true?"

"Really, of course it is true."

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

"No, it's impossible." I suddenly said affirmatively, "He won't paint, he will not."

I didn’t remember how the day’s debate ended. And the girl named Yuan Yuan and I have already left.

Over ten years. If I can see it again, I will still stick to it that way.

No one will paint a mountain like that, no one can.

Yuanyuan, what about you? Do you admit it now? The year before, I met a girl named Yuan Yuan, and I hurriedly asked her, but she said with a smile that she could not remember Liuzhou. Then she won't be you. No one can forget Liuzhou, no one can forget the gloomy, Shenxiong, micro-golden, unseen mountains.

And the days are full of the West Wind, the string of metal, the days of joy and hum. Finally, when people grow up, they will read "Autumn Sounds" and they will ride on bicycles. Imagine the feelings of Lu Fang Weng's "full of ears listening to the autumn wind".

In the autumn travel, the photo album has a luminous memory as usual. I still remember that tired swim back and sat in the tour bus.

"What season do you like the most?" I asked.

"Autumn." She replied simply, with all the beautiful autumn light in her eyes.

I suddenly rejoiced.

"Me too, ah, we are all."

She said many autumn stories to me, stories from the mountains and the countryside. She also described to me the small pond where she often slept next to it, and the fruits that could not be finished in the forest.

The car walked all the way, the classmates got off the station, and the car was getting empty.

"Oh," I suddenly lowered my head. "When we were old, the companions of our lives got out of the car one by one, and the seats slowly loosened. What would you do?"

"I will be very upset," she said blankly.

What are we doing? Hey, we just said some silly words about the little girl, the deep, incomprehensible solution.

But, no matter what, we are hiding in the small trees together, and the days when we talked about dreams are beautiful.

Now, you work in the deep mountains of the middle, work like missionaries, and love those simple mountain souls from your heart. At the beginning of this year, we met again, and the interest was still so good. Sitting in the small ferry, the morning freshwater river had not uncovered the thin blue fog, and it was awkward, and you continued your mountain story.

"Sometimes, I walked up the mountain, one person, slowly over many mountains." You said, "Suddenly, I stopped, and found that all four walls are mountains! They are majestic, blue sky!" I stood up in surprise, ah, how could it be so beautiful!"

I look at you, hey, my heart is full of happiness. After so many years, we are all innocent, and our dreams are innocent - those high mountains! Not a dream on the horizon.

And now, autumn is already very thick and white in the mountains here. Occasionally, a fall of autumn rain, thin cold hit people, often after the rain, there is a cold moonlight, people can not give birth to a sad autumn feelings. Where are you? It’s time to put on a faint autumn scene outside the window, right? How is autumn suitable for the feelings of the old man, and what kind of dream is suitable for silver and silver!

With the wind, the purple waves tumbling, turning the autumn cool of a mountain to my heart. I love this season, but I feel that I love to be so lonely.

I am not not tempted by the gentleness of spring. I am not tempted by the heat of summer. It is just that life should be serious, mature, and sacred, just like what autumn gives us—but who knows? Who knows? Who is going to appreciate the depth?

The distant mountains are retreating, and the distant indigo is a calm indigo. The nearby woody Zhulan is still fragrant, and the small creek rushes out of the cracks. In the wilderness, there is a book written by no one. It is a small order, twists and turns, to depict pure autumn light.

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

May my life be like this, there are not many beautiful spring flowers, not too much floating summer clouds, no shackles, no rotating multicolored, only a quiet and simple white, only the deep and serious of mature life, only dreams, like Red Maple is as eager to live a dream.

I love you deeply in this beautiful season of autumn!

Sixth grade: Li Songfeng