Whenever autumn comes, it is accompanied by autumn rain, which is like smoke and fog, silently floating in the rubble of the open space, falling on the dead leaves, pouring on the road, wiping on the house, wetting the trees, like shining pearls, like mother earth.
The autumn rain is falling, washing the path like a mirror, and finding out the beautiful image of autumn. The birch trees on both sides of the path are covered with broken rain, green and endless. There is a cluster of chrysanthemums planted beside the residential building in the distance. Chrysanthemum is as pink as Chardonnay, as white as snow and as red as blood. They were kept in cages in mid-September, covered with a layer of wet red and white powder fog, and the color was misty green. These colorful clouds of fog are really like watercolors just dripping on paper, gradually infiltrating. Oh, this wonderful autumn rain is feeding the spring rain. This scene is really intoxicating.
Look at that flower bed: flowers spread their arms and dance in the wind. You see, they have been baptized by autumn rain. The red land is so bright, the green is so green, and it looks full of business. The leaves are covered with water drops, like strings of silver pearls.
Ah. Autumn rain, you are my favorite monsoon rain. You bring fresh air and vitality to the earth.