Imitate Zhu Ziqing's spring. But for autumn, 200 words will do. Remember those sweet words.

Looking forward to, looking forward to, cicadas are far away, and the footsteps of autumn are near. Everything seems to be boiling, shouting and smiling. The moon is clear, the sunset is warm and the smoke on the roof is dancing. The leaves quietly put on new clothes, gold or red. Orchards, forests, look, a large area. Step on it, lie down, pick two pieces as bookmarks, take two pieces as souvenirs, walk a few steps and sweep a few piles of fallen leaves. The wind is rustling and the leaves are rustling. Peaches, pears, persimmons, you won't let me, I won't let you, they are all full of fruits. Pink is like rouge, yellow is like gold, and red is like lanterns. The air is full of attractive fruit fragrance; Close your eyes, your mouth seems to be full of sweet juice. Under the tree, farmers' uncles were busy harvesting, and cheerful laughter spread to the horizon. Chrysanthemums also join in the fun: in the field, in the garden, huge and petite, like an autumn date, in high spirits. "Untie three autumn leaves", yes, like sweeping autumn leaves with a broom. The wind is full of the smell of golden wheat waves, mixed with the smell of sweat, and the smell of various fruits, which set off a harvest movement. These geese are going to fly to the south for the winter. They are arranged in herringbone in the sky for a while, and then in words, flying over mountains and rivers and water, so that everyone who is ready to go home can think about it. The open space in front of and behind the house is also full of golden grain stacks at this time. The rain is a little cold, an autumn rain and a cold. Don't worry. Listen, like wind chimes, like knocking, like clapping, gently and quietly playing, playing a harmonious autumn movement. The brighter the leaves, the yellower the yellow, and the stream is flowing happily. Cooking at night, the smoke curling up, and the attractive rice fragrance came to my face, which made people who were rushing home more anxious. In cities, railway tracks and buses, there are countless people who are sleepy in the rain, and others walk alone on the road with umbrellas and ponchos. Rows of their houses were silent in the rain. Autumn, like a postman delivering parcels, brings everyone a gift of harvest. It's busy. Autumn is like a middle-aged man, mature and steady, smiling and diligent. Autumn is like a Taoist, with gentle eyes and eyebrows, which show us the true meaning of life.