Life is a journey, the destination is not our destination, and the scenery along the way is what we should find and cherish in this life.

Looking for the shadow of summer in the morning dew, I found camphor leaves all over the ground, green, red and gorgeous summer colors. It suddenly occurred to me that I had passed beginning of autumn.

Autumn? But I still fell asleep with the frog, but there was still bright sunshine in the afternoon, but I still didn't find the shadow of summer.

Like gorgeous summer leaves, I look for the summer figure in the summer sunshine, but I fall on the footsteps of autumn early. Go through four seasons and come to the next summer.

It turns out that summer has always been in my heart. The brightest sunshine is always with me.

Imagine life as a mountain. The scenery on the top of the mountain is of course the beauty we are pursuing, but there is always a downhill road behind this beauty. It may be winding and rugged, and it may be full of thorns, but if there is no such road, how can we reach the next mountain top to enjoy the new and perhaps more beautiful scenery? Bon voyage is by no means what travelers seek. A little accident, a little adventure, a little excitement and a little color are the only way to glad you came. This life is full of fun!

There will be beautiful scenery waiting for us at the next stop. There will be gains and losses in life, and the open-mindedness of "not being happy with things, not being sad for ourselves" can help us find something that is really worth cherishing.

Along the way, I am like this summer leaf. I will go through the four seasons with my unfulfilled dreams, return to the dreamy season, complete my unfulfilled dreams and find new ones!

Poplar leaves in childhood

When I was a child, my grandmother and I lived in a small quadrangle. There is a big poplar tree in the yard. He was a good friend of my childhood.

When I was very young, I always played games with my friends under the poplar. The summer sun shines on the dense green leaves of poplar trees, and a sparkling parasol holds up our heads. Leaves are as beautiful as fairy tales. We play under the leaves and enjoy a carefree life. In retrospect, there will always be a shiny poplar leaf in front of me.

When I grow up, I will collect the fallen leaves every autumn, and my grandmother always carefully helps me put them into an unknown book. At that time, I didn't know what specimens were or why I collected fallen leaves, but I brought back countless poplar leaves with great interest every day, and my grandmother always put them in the book with a smile. Neighbors see me picking up fallen leaves and leave me beautiful leaves every time I clean the yard. Once, a neighbor's elder sister gave me a boat made of yellow leaves. I am so excited that I take boats everywhere. When I sleep at night, I deliberately let my grandmother put it out of the reach of the pet dog. That puppy is also my good friend, but I guess he may have fallen out of favor for several days because of the deciduous boat.

In winter, poplars hide all their leaves. Whenever this happens, grandma takes out the fallen leaves caught in the book in autumn. Grandma taught me to draw on the leaves with colored pens. After painting, grandma put tape on both sides of the leaves, tied the leaves together with thread and hung them on the door and wall. Grandma and I also used poplar leaves to collage pictures. A few leaves, simply folded a few times, make up a unique picture, which is very interesting. The wall is covered with such paintings, and grandma calls it my "leaf painting exhibition". Every winter, there are strings of poplar leaves, leaf paintings and grandma's loving smile.

When spring comes, new green leaves leap on the branches. Looking at the delicate new leaves, I began to expect them to grow up quickly and become golden poplar leaves in summer.

I grow up in hope year after year, and poplar leaves are my inseparable partners. It was not until that autumn that we had to break up. In order to expand the road, the yard will be demolished. I picked up the poplar leaves on the ground for the last time, and grandma put them in the book, just like before. On that day, I bid farewell to the poplar leaves that accompanied me through my childhood.

Later, I went back to that street. The yard is gone. I can't believe all the poplars are gone, only thick stumps are left. A few months later, I went back to that street. This time, even the stumps disappeared and the road widened.

I still cherish the last few poplar leaves. When I see poplars, I will think of the one that accompanied me through my childhood.