Autumn is known when the leaves fall. Whenever this time, I take my little guy to enjoy autumn on weekends. There is no need to play hide-and-seek with us in autumn. It's in a field in the suburbs. The breeze blew, rows of neat poplars rustled, cattle, sheep and horses took a leisurely walk, and farmers were busy collecting potatoes. It is next to the gurgling stream, with trees extending to both banks and golden leaves against the blue sky; It is in the Woods at the foot of the snow-capped mountain, dancing with light and shadow, and occasionally birds that can't be named fly by, leaving a few crisp songs; In that dense orchard, the red apples are covered with branches and can be picked.
Turpan, a 3-hour drive, is in a bunker-like drying room. Grapes have been dried, one by one, compact and full, making people drool. Thousands of kilometers away in Kashizepu, the ancient Yarkand River is painted with golden poplars. Of course, there is Kanas, where the forest is dyed, where the grass trees smoke, and the crane river in Altay flows among the birch trees ... It can be said that "getting drunk is a good thing in autumn, better than the beautiful scenery in Xinjiang".
This is autumn in Xinjiang, a different autumn!