Autumn came quietly, and I forgot many things in my busy schedule. It turns out that when people face a matter that belongs to both emotion and responsibility, they will ignore many other things, including messy relationships, fragmented emotions and this autumn.
Come and go in a hurry, always used to glance at the old buttonwood tree in the courtyard. They were silent, but they kept exchanging eyes with me. They are my soul mates. Here, they told me about the alternation of day and night, the cycle of four seasons, the ups and downs of life, and showed me the process of life completely. It hatched carefully, and a leaf bud broke through the dryness and silence of death and began a long journey of life against the warm spring breeze. It gladly accepts every gift, every change, comes to the eager teenager, enjoys the strength and shyness of youth, and interprets the hegemony and maturity of middle age with the most full posture. All the gains are in the bag, joy and sadness. Then, when you are in the spring breeze, you will use a dying body to support an insurmountable belief, an unshakable tenacity, a vulgar temperament, and an instinctive tolerance and indifference. This is its stage, and the mystery of life is here. In the morning, under the scorching sun, in the sunset, in the wind, in the rain, every spring, summer, autumn and winter, I never stopped, never tired, grew and died, but I didn't pick up the green and yellow, but I reached the horizon unconsciously. The annual rings on the trunk, like its heart, record the impressions of every second and engrave the height and width of life.
I am often grateful for such a small yard and the lonely phoenix tree. In the sun, I can see its spreading branches and leaves through the window; Yamashita, who stepped on the moonlight projection screen and moved with the wind, told me that he was invited and that he had his company.
This autumn, there was a frightening night, and a kind old man passed away safely. I remember wandering in the dormitory in the middle of the night, remembering the wind and rain whistling outside the window, trying to uproot the black phoenix tree in the yard, which was painfully twisted. I still remember the bright sky and the phoenix tree still standing after the rain the next morning.
This autumn is not calm, it seems that after a big quarrel, it is slightly weightless at the moment. My life was so simple on that busy day. Go to work at three o'clock, go home and go to the hospital. It's less than a kilometer to and from this bustling street. If you are hungry, you will happily eat a bowl of bean jelly with a broadsword in the street, and then you will not walk into the nearby Xue Hai Bookstore with those young junior high school students, or you will choose carefully or be absent-minded, and then you will take out one or two books you like and put them on the shelf, or you will read them or not. It was at that time that I was glad to have such an exquisite bookstore. All the books here are true. I saw some of my favorite essays, poems and classical literature, met Xu Zhimo and Lin Yutang, and walked into the Book of Songs for the first time, wandering in Yuan Qu. ...
This autumn, I learned to hug him for warmth. Many times, I don't need language, just an emotion, a touch, which flows slowly in ordinary days. I am also eager to miss someone, and I am alone in the sunset. The sunset also has feelings.
In fact, this autumn is a little short-lived, and there are some repetitions. Between the scorching sun and the ice and snow, the boundary has become increasingly blurred, not boring. Leaves fall one by one, slowly and gracefully, and life is precipitated by years. Walking under the tree, I lost some of unknown so's impetuousness and regained my awe of life and care for the years.
It seems that I can't wait to take a step towards winter.