Looking forward to, looking forward to, cicadas are far away and autumn is near.
Everything seems to be boiling, shouting and smiling. The moon is bright, the setting sun is warm, and the roof is dancing.
The leaves quietly put on new clothes, gold or red. You can see a lot in orchards and forests. When you are lying on your feet, pick two pieces as bookmarks, take two pieces as souvenirs, walk a few times 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. When I close my eyes, my mouth seems to be full of sweet juice. Under the tree, farmers' uncles are busy harvesting, and cheerful laughter has spread to the horizon. Chrysanthemums also join in the fun: blooming in the field and growing in the garden, huge and petite, like an autumn date, full of enthusiasm.
"Three Autumn Leaves" is good, like a big broom sweeping away the autumn leaves. 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. The geese are going to fly to the south for the winter, and then they will form a herringbone in the sky, fly over mountains and water, for everyone who is going home. In front of the house,
The rain is a little cold, an autumn rain and a cold. Don't worry. Listen, like a wind chime, like a blow, like clapping your hands, and play a harmonious autumn movement. The brighter the leaves, the yellower the yellow, and the stream is flowing happily. When cooking at night, the smoke from the kitchen chimney rises, which makes people who are rushing home more anxious.
In the field, there are more stooped figures and more children running on the ridge. In the suburbs of the city, every family, old and young, is rushing home. They are all on their way home. They lead their children, bring gifts, repay their elders and show filial piety. "I miss my relatives twice during the festive season", and I miss more and more at this time.
Autumn, like a postman delivering parcels, brings you a bumper harvest gift. 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.