Sit in front of the car window and watch the scenery all the way. Every inch of autumn goes deep into my eyes. The vegetation withered and the sunset was bleak. On the rolling hills, autumn colors are getting stronger and stronger, immersed in the silent sunset, like a rippling autumn sea. Suddenly I feel that the years are getting late and the mountains and rivers are already autumn.
Recalling the old friends sealed by years, things are different.
Some relatives in life, silently guarding, gently browsing and deeply retaining, are all a simple happiness and a simple warmth! In the end, the vicissitudes of life only turned into a hurried back.
A person's life is nothing more than a win-lose race. Looking back, there is not much left on me, except for being tired, counting the backs that left in a hurry.
I always prefer autumn, because it not only reminds me of the people I miss, but also makes my ink more poetic. Moreover, I always feel that autumn comes from poetry lightly. I feel that she is wandering between her fingers, taking away other people's Li M: ng and leaving one place after another. Who said that? Qiu is like a gentle thug. When he brushed his cheek, he carved a rose with blood.
The relaxed and free breeze, the bright moon and the falling leaves whisper another story of autumn. It was originally a season with thousands of emotions, but the pen was not written.