With a season of waiting, I wrote full of ardent expectations, hoping that in a reincarnation, it is a bustling fragrance. The rush of flowers still leaves a lingering fragrance, and the aftertaste of autumn rhyme still echoes in my ears. I have no time to go back and collect.
After experiencing the cold in winter, the romance in spring and the fanaticism in summer, the taste of life can become rich in autumn. I only love the messy season of Liquidambar formosana, and I didn't deliberately pursue it, nor did I deliberately retain it. I outlined the outline of life with elegant dance.
Time is beautiful, because it has passed; Experience enriches life. Pick a fallen leaf and taste the desolation of autumn. The four seasons of life, bitter, only know sweet; Only when you are hurt will you know how to cherish.
Autumn frost leaves red, not caring about appreciation, is an aesthetic connotation; Still water is deep, and I don't care about showing off. This is a meaningful poem. Leaves fall, although sad, but it is a necessity; Cold, although it cuts the skin, is a season; Snow dance, though beautiful, is a landscape. Taste everything, but tasteless, because see through; Read all over Qian Shan, but there is no scenery, because it is clear; After vicissitudes of life, I was not hurt, because I looked down.
Time is wandering in the shallow pen and ink, and the years are immersed in the crisp singing. Flowers bloom and fall, and everyone has a destiny. When the grass withers, it turns green. People are old and can't go back to the past. Autumn goes to winter, year after year.
Beautiful autumn leaves are fragrant with fleeting dreams; Memories, tenderness in the world of mortals; A thought penetrated the soul of the soul; Love day after day, remember year after year-
Falling leaves are not sad, because they know the alternation of years better, and leaving euphemistically is the best choice.
With the smell of sunshine in your heart, find a Taoyuan ferry, cherish it, cherish it and experience it, so that it will be quiet and quiet. When I am not familiar with Maple Red, I will dance for a long time, and the time I have traveled along the way has expelled my memory. Long drops of happiness, such as maple red, become charming in my eyes and tremble in my heart. Accustomed to miss you in this season, watching a lovesickness, through the thousands of turns of the soul, into the most beautiful warmth.
Living in the change of four seasons is becoming more and more prosperous and tired. In retrospect, I realized that the morning glow should be cherished and the sunset should not be easily missed.
Sighing the fleeting time and singing the vicissitudes of life, the fallen leaves in autumn and the summer injury of tea will eventually become an eternal freeze, and the eternal world of mortals will never be broken.
With the passage of time, the four seasons change. When the cool breeze overturns the glitz of this season, the bright and quiet autumn is like a warm and bright hairpin on a woman's head, with rich colors and gentle gestures.
Beautiful article describing autumn 2: This season of autumn
I am in the depths of the season, crawling upward.
Walking through the fields like spring, walking through the starry sky like summer night, falling leaves return to their roots, an unexpected turn, and a trivial intoxication. If autumn comes, it's like picking up stationery for many years, without thinking, even my fingertips are flashing, and tears fall on my heart properly.
I sat quietly in a misty rain, watching the poems engraved by the falling leaves in the mist, layers of thin smoke, a pool of autumn water connected with autumn dew, cooling through the autumn window and penetrating the autumn curtain. My fallen petal falls in the rain all season, chewing the drizzle of autumn night behind Qiu Chan Gate inch by inch. I wonder if I can whisper to you in the dust of your dreams through the wild flowers all over the mountain tonight?
I like the rainy season in autumn night and the warm silence in my dream. I never thought autumn was the beginning of depression. Those once solemn purple flowers and those once solemn purples walk like those bustling encounters. Acacia is the red dust that takes away the years. Persistence is the shackles of self-seeking, and recollection is the shackles of self-seeking.
The back of memory is based on the instinct of time, leaving acacia to meet some faint back. Only memories are eternal fragrance. For autumn, I like you, just like facing silent memories.
In early autumn, the wind is very cold. Rejoice flows against the current, but words remain unchanged. In the morning of autumn sun, we meet again after a long separation. Your autumn is still gentle and quiet. Turning around, it was a stranger who was no longer in full bloom. It is a quiet courtyard that the city can't match. It's a long time, and you come and go in the town until you can't describe your outline.
Autumn rain looked up, and some voices whispered in my ear. Although I like autumn rain, I don't love it. Drifting is just an adjective, coming and going, scattering the soil you care about into the distant trajectory, which is something called belonging.
Looking up, there are some clouds, and there are some lines of sight in the light. The mountains in the eyes are high, the water is long, the wind is clear and the clouds are light. The autumn wind is over my ears, and I have some ups and downs in color.
In the autumn wind, I saw yellow mountains and yellow mountains. Autumn rain is looking for yellow, looking for it and thinking of it, locking the memory of a year into autumn eyes. Through the scenery, the beautiful scenery is close at hand.
I am happy in a state, combing the seasonal dress over and over again, loving a season, just like waiting for a friend who doesn't know when to return. Only by waiting can my heart be beautiful.
It is rainy this autumn, and the leaves in late autumn are always covered with tears. What permeates my heart is the coolness from frame to frame, and there are traces of the wind from head to toe. The figure of autumn water makes me seem to see the back of a summer night. Those tides rise and fall, and those full moons are still new.
I often live in a low-temperature way, dormant in the world, listening to half a cup of herbal tea, smelling half a cup of wine, listening to the wind, enjoying the rain, watching the clouds and watching the water flow. Life is half routine and half wild.
Aestheticism describes the third article of autumn: Aestheticism is autumn.
After a long and hot summer, I finally look forward to a refreshing and pleasant autumn. I'm afraid the only thing that can stay in my heart all year round is autumn, just like the protagonist in Hemingway's The Old Man and the Sea, who only has a hut and the sea in his heart.
Autumn is the season of missing, remembering, loneliness and sadness.
Autumn is so beautiful and profound that only autumn is indispensable in the change of four seasons. As the master said, "Without a decent autumn, the whole year is regrettable". In autumn, what you can see is only the calm after the gorgeous summer flowers, which converges the charm of spring and the arrogance of summer, more like a mature and perfect woman, and the introverted temperament makes it unnecessary to be embellished with any beautiful colors.
Autumn was carefree when I was a child, because my relatives were all around me at that time. When I am old, I find that there are too many melancholy and thoughts in autumn, because I am in a foreign land at this time. I haven't known what autumn tastes like in my hometown for a long time. I only know that autumn in my hometown comes earlier and more respectably than here. The air in autumn is more transparent than that in spring and fresher than that in summer. Wearing a thin coat is enough to avoid the warmth left by the hot summer and resist the cold of the cold winter that strikes at any time. I don't know which philosopher said, "Wear less and walk fast". I estimate that speaking time should also be in autumn, because winter is indispensable, so winter is destined to carry a heavy burden and walk slower than autumn.
Looking at a leaf that hasn't turned yellow at the foot, I feel lonely in an instant. It seems that I have to leave in a hurry to say goodbye to the tree. It was late autumn when the first frost came, and the river here suddenly became cold. The wind at this time is slightly bleak in softness. The leaves are no longer light green in summer, mature and steady, and can be used as their own modifiers at this time. In the autumn wind, they are still swaying to say goodbye to the tree. The spring rain is continuous and the autumn rain is rustling. The intermittent autumn rain is organized into a gentle net, covering the whole autumn world. The lush jujube trees, mulberry trees and vines in the garden only represent the prosperity of the past summer. It is estimated that they have now become the remains of ancient Roman architecture, washing the scars that will never be touched in the rustling rain. At this moment, I suddenly remembered the orange in front of the house.
It should be ripe. I was lucky enough to taste it at home. I still remember the taste-sweet and delicious. Of course, I still remember sharing immature green oranges with my classmates, sour and astringent. Now, in the future, I'm afraid I won't have the chance to catch up with the fruit ripening season at home. In the future, we will face the reinforced concrete, red light and green wine in the city, and occasionally a few green leaves.