The smell of grass is floating in the air.
The fallen leaves are spinning and dancing, hiding in the ground.
The geese in the distance gradually disappeared.
Autumn disappears in the quiet years.
Original ... please don't copy.
And:
In the morning, I walked into the bamboo forest, and the dew on the bamboo leaves reflected seven colors of brilliance when the sun shone. Occasionally, when I touch bamboo, the water drops fall quietly, and one or two drops just fall on my neck, which is cool and refreshing ... Tintin's logging sounds are floating in the deep valley from time to time, so rhythmic and rhythmic ... When I approached, I saw Huang Chengcheng's ears full of grains, and the rice was bent with laughter in the autumn wind. In the autumn wind, rice rustles, and every grain of rice seems to say, "I am full!" " I am the most full! "scrambling to let farmers harvest. When the farmers who put down their sickles came to the orchard, there were many fruits in the orchard, and every melon and fruit was showing off their joy on the branches.
In autumn, He Qifang changed his prose and rewritten He Qifang's Autumn into a 500-word prose. How do you feel in autumn? Probably passed disease-free * * *, and Jiang Lang was probably exhausted. In the face of beautiful and affectionate autumn, I can't sing half a hymn.
That year, I sang "Zeng" and dyed autumn into a red maple in rise of the legend; Another year, singing "Impatiens in the Sunset", thinking of the lost years; Another year, singing "Come Back, Autumn", intoxicated by the charm of autumn. But what about this year? What kind of autumn can I experience in this rainy autumn?
Every autumn is a repetition, but I am unwilling and unable to repeat myself. With the coming of every autumn, the surging feelings in my heart become more and more ambiguous. I don't even know whether time has subverted myself or lost myself.
The dream I was looking for is getting farther and farther away from me, sometimes I can't remember it, and sometimes I feel empty when I think about it. But beauty does exist, but now I suddenly don't know how to express it. Sometimes words can't convey meaning, so I have to use words that can only be understood but can't be expressed.
But perfunctory, perfunctory, and finally let yourself be at a loss.
People grow up in such confusion.
The man in the mirror is still himself. Maybe he wants to enjoy it with one more person, or maybe he is disappointed. His past days have turned into thousands of messy memories, and finally he can only be sad.
In the drift of inertia, people move forward; When turning a corner, I may have stopped for too long and was eager to run on the straight road, so I went from blindness to loss.
This is the general trend of autumn leaves dying. In addition to the solid pine trees, it is still full of immortal green, and the falling dust is the ultimate call of the earth for green leaves.
What does autumn really mean? Does it mean withering? Or does it mean a bumper harvest? What does autumn symbolize? Maturity or the beginning of decline?
I didn't mean to blame autumn, I just galloped in my own territory with autumn feelings.
In the busy forest, animals are growling, and the nature and wildness of looking for food are raging, obliterating the splendor of autumn. There are birds flapping their wings and singing in the wild, or they are flustered for the coming winter. The partridge groans, the fish in the stream are chasing the grass insects on the water, and the green frog jumps on the lotus, quacks and swallows a worm and then jumps into the water, instantly causing ripples to spread throughout the pond. The snake hid in the grass by the stream, waiting for an opportunity to catch nearby prey.
The dense autumn rain sent romance to the gorgeous streets of Hongmei. There are one or two kites in the distant sky, and the boats in the river float silently to the horizon. The brilliant sunset always makes me feel sad near dusk.
Should I run or stay? If I stay, I must stand in the middle of autumn, spinning and tossing in all directions. I should scream loudly to welcome autumn.
In autumn, I don't want to give up my dignity, so I go my own way and put on a melancholy play, whether you like it or not. Just like a big river, its running is gone forever.
We are intoxicated with this autumn, intoxicated with this autumn, comparing the past and looking forward to the future in repeated contradictions. You say, are you helpless or are you used to numbness? No matter how you answer, autumn is still open-minded, not asking whether you like it or are bored.
He Qifang's Autumn was rewritten into prose. How did He Qifang's Autumn be rewritten into prose? I was eager to come gently, but I accidentally touched the dew covered in the morning. Gradually, the sound of Ding Ding's logging floated out of the valley. Put down the silver moon sickle bent like fragrant rice, and use the basket that has been prepared on the back to hold the fat fruits and vegetables that have already been covered with bamboo fences. Autumn came quietly and settled quietly in the farmhouse.
In the distance, the river is covered with a layer of cold fog. Sail the boat to the middle of the river, spread round fishing nets on the cold fog on the river surface, and put away the shadow of Chinese tallow leaves that turn red like herring. The awning made of reeds is covered with layers of frost. Gently rocking the parked paddle, like children in autumn, playing in a small fishing boat on the river.
Weedy land appears higher and more empty in the sound of crickets, and the stream appears clearer because it is dry enough to see stones. The shepherd's flute on the cow's back is crisp and filled with midsummer. Where is the Ye Xiang fever in midsummer? Autumn, tired, quietly sleeping in the clear eyes of shepherdess.
You see, in front of us, in the valley, in the farmhouse, on the fishing boat, in the clear eyes of the shepherdess, the cool autumn is waving goodbye to the hot summer.
He Qifang's Autumn was rewritten into a 500-word essay. Looking at the silver light on the ground, I want to repay. So I got up and walked out the door. A breeze caressed me and I felt a little cold. Then I looked up at the round moon. I simply wrapped my clothes and didn't feel cold. Walking in the yard, watching everything being taken care of selflessly. I know its love is great. I remembered my heart, quietly listening to the sound of the wind blowing leaves, watching the full moon, and pouring out my heart. It looked at me quietly, as if it understood my whisper, and it was very wise. I can't help thinking that you can listen to my story, you are also the one who can keep my secret, and you are my confidant.
He Qifang's Autumn is about prose, and there is a passage in Autumn of He Qifang about prose. The third picture is "The Girl Missed". This poem is written with weeds, crickets and streams, which is equivalent to the so-called "feeling interest" written by the ancients, that is, talking about other things first, feeling from the interest and feeling from the scenery. Weeds are overgrown and the stream is clear. This is not a human activity, and there must be a continuation afterwards, that is, girls are in love. The noisy summer of nature has passed, but autumn has quietly changed. When people are silent, they mostly look at themselves and listen to their inner voices. After listening to the flute on the back of a cow for a summer, the shepherdess suddenly stopped listening, and a corner of her heart began to sprout. It is really "like roots shaking the earth on a hot summer night" (He Qifang's poem "Summer Night"). Writing about love, especially first love, is what he was good at in his early years. This time, he wrote more subtly and brilliantly. There are only five lines in this paragraph, which is about the transition from place to insider, and the transition from writing first love from scratch. The poet chose the specific angle of "shepherdess's eyes". Although he didn't write his eyes clearly, the reader can see the purity and clearness inside, which is the special look of the first-love girl when she seems to be in love, but she doesn't. And comparing these three poems, we can see that the first two poems are mainly about external scenery and personnel, and the third poem is really written in the depths of the soul, writing subtle feelings, which makes the whole poem gather real feelings. If you don't write like this, it will be difficult to enter the mood, enter the spirit, and the poem will "float".
Autumn written by He Qifang was rewritten into prose. Autumn is coming. The sky is high and the clouds are light. In the blue sky, geese fly to the south in droves. Sometimes they are arranged in an "I" shape, and sometimes they are arranged in a "human" shape.
In autumn, most leaves gradually turn yellow, and some have withered. Only the maple leaves are red and fiery, adding a beautiful scenery to autumn. It's really "frost leaves are redder than February flowers"!
In autumn, most of the flowers have lost their former elegance, petals fall in succession, and all kinds of chrysanthemums compete to decorate the city and beautify the environment.
Autumn is the season when crops are ripe, and it is also the favorite season of farmers' uncles. Sorghum blushed, corn opened its mouth, Huang Chengcheng's corn kernels were like golden beans, Xiaomi smiled and bowed to us, and soybeans were blown from ear to ear. ...
Autumn is so beautiful. I like autumn.
How to rewrite He Qifang's poetry into the prose Autumn? Autumn is the harvest season. Soybeans, corn and sorghum are all ripe, and I am so tired that I bend over.
The autumn sky is very high, as if Pangu is still propping up heaven and earth; The sky is so blue, just like a painter painting blue paint in the sky.
The leaves of poplar are a little yellow. When the autumn wind blows, poplar wobbles, as if it were old and unstable.
The crops are happy, because they all bear fruit, and they are all saying, "Look, how big my fruit is, and I can rank first among the crops!" " ""You see, my fruit is not worse than yours. "The crops bear rich fruits and leave the sweetness to people, but they gradually turn yellow and get old.
In the campus lawn, grass sneaks out, just like putting a green military uniform on the earth; The beautiful teaching building whispered to me, "I will shelter you from the wind and rain, so you should study hard." The surrounding scenery seems to say to me, "We all have achievements. Is there? " ? Let's race! "
Only Miss Liu bowed her head and said nothing. She was very sad. Crops comforted her one after another: "Although you have no fruit, your figure is very beautiful, which brings beauty to people." Miss Liu finally smiled.
Autumn is so beautiful, I love autumn!