It has been nearly ten years since autumn in the north. Every autumn in the south, I always think of the reed flowers in Taoranting, the willow shadows in Diaoyutai, the insects in Xishan, the jathyapple in Yuquan and the bells in Tanzhe Temple. Even if you don't go out in Beiping, you can rent a shabby house and live in the sea of people in the imperial city. Get up in the morning, make a bowl of strong tea and sit in the yard, you can see the high blue sky and hear the pigeons flying in the blue sky.
From the bottom of Sophora japonica leaves, counting a ray of sunshine leaking to the east, or in the broken waist, facing the blue morning glory like morning glory, you can naturally feel the autumn breath. When it comes to morning glory, I think blue or white is the best, followed by purple and black, and pink is the lowest. It is best to have a few sparse and slender autumn grasses as a foil at the bottom of the morning glory.
2. Autumn in Jinan-Lao She, a modern novelist in China.
Autumn in Jinan is poetic. Suppose in your fantasy there is a medieval ancient city, a sleeping tower, a narrow ancient stone road, a broad stone wall, a clear stream flowing around the city, reflecting the mountain shadow, and a little girl in red robe and green pants squatting on the shore. If such a realm is in your fantasy, it is a Jinan. If you can't imagine-many people can't imagine-please come to Jinan and have a look.
Please come in autumn. That city, that river, that ancient road and that mountain shadow are all prepared for you all year round. However, coupled with the autumn colors in Jinan, Jinan has changed from a simple painting to a quiet and beautiful poem. This poetic autumn color of Qiu Guang is unique to Jinan.
God gave the art of summer to Switzerland, the West Lake in spring and Jinan in autumn and winter. Autumn and winter are inseparable. It is winter when you fall asleep in autumn. God didn't want it to wake up suddenly, so he gave it to Jinan as a favor.
3. Autumn, autumn —— Zhang Xiaofeng, a female writer in Taiwan Province, China.
With the wind, purple waves churned, turning the coolness of a mountain in autumn into my heart. I like this season, but I feel very lonely. It's not that I'm not infatuated with the tenderness of spring. It's not that I don't yearn for the heat of summer. Only life should be serious, mature and sacred, just like what autumn has given us-but who knows? Who knows? Who will appreciate the depth? ?
The mountains in the distance are retreating, and the ruins in the distance are covered with calm indigo. Moreover, the woody orchids nearby are still fragrant, and fragrance is really a kind of power, which can govern a large area of land. The stream rushed out from a small crack, and among the leaves, there was a line of unknown running script. This is a poem with vivid twists and turns, which is used to describe pure Qiu Guang. And my title page is empty, I don't have a poem, but I love autumn with all my piety and awe. ?
May my life be the same. There are not too many gorgeous spring flowers, too many floating Xia Yun, no noise, no rotating colors, only a quiet and simple white, only the depth and seriousness of mature life, only dreams, as eager and rich as a red maple. Autumn, this hard and bright metal season, is my deep love. ?
4. The smell of autumn-Lin Yutang, a famous modern writer in China.
In autumn dusk, sitting on the sofa, smoking a cigarette, looking at the red light under the white ash of cigarette butts, slightly revealing the heating, my heart will be as relaxed and free as the blue smoke.
In the blink of an eye, the smoke turned into wisps and slowly disappeared. At that moment, my heart was depressed, so I didn't say the mood at that time, just the mood at that time. When I want to strike another match and light a cigar that has been lit three or four times, I can't light it because there is too much white ash. I just played it gently, and the soot quietly landed on the copper stove. It is as silent as I write on paper with a brush at this time, and there is no sound at all.
5. Autumn Rain-Zhang Ailing, a modern female writer in China.
Rain, like silver-gray sticky spider silk, weaves a soft net and nets the whole autumn world. The sky is dark, too, like the roof of an old house covered with cobwebs. The pile of gray clouds in the sky is like white powder peeling off the roof. Under the cover of this old roof, everything looks extremely dull.
Old durian, mulberry and grapevine are in the garden. They all represent the prosperity of the past summer, and now they have become the remains of ancient Roman architecture, shivering in the rustling rain and recalling the glorious past.
The color of grass has turned into melancholy yellow, and fresh flowers can no longer be found underground; The delicate daffodils planted outside the dormitory wall hung their heads with tears in their eyes, lamenting their bad luck there. It was only two sunny days and such a moldy rainy day. Only the sweet-scented osmanthus in the corner, the branches have been decorated with several precious buds as gold, carefully hidden under the green oval leaves, revealing a little hope of new life germination.
Baidu encyclopedia-Yu Dafu
Baidu Encyclopedia-Laoshe
Baidu Encyclopedia-Zhang Xiaofeng
Baidu encyclopedia-Lin Yutang
Baidu Encyclopedia-Zhang Ailing