In autumn, take the fallen leaves out on a long trip

It is an unchangeable law to go out for a long journey, for the sake of livelihood, for the sake of days, for the sake of countless hopes and expectations.. The road ahead is destined to be dazed, and the steps ahead are destined to be crooked, but we still have to start. The emperor resigned from the White Emperor and died at Jiangling. What about the front? My friend, tell me, what is ahead?   It was the autumn of another year. The summer heat left only a half-hour of shadow behind, and it has gone away. The sun is light and shallow, and the ground is full of fallen leaves. The thick green between heaven and earth becomes light, yellow and withered, and the cold air quietly enters people’s mind with the frost coming at night.. At this time of year, autumn harvest and autumn planting will bring Qiu Xi to life, which is full of busy people. Autumn autumn rain autumn cool autumn sorrow, rugged winding mountain road, walking obliquely carrying bags away from home country tour.     I don’t know how many times I have left my homeland to go far away and packed up silently, feeling dejected.. Folding up the tight-knit sweater is the most in-depth collection of loving mother’s love and wandering child’s thoughts in the heart. To arrange stacks of books with ink fragrance is to write down the distance on a white sheet of paper. What’s in the distance? Is it good, is it hope, is it the future, or is it a misty rain? Who can tell me this lost orchid?     In the morning, in the large open yard, picking up a withered flower among the colorful fallen trees, carefully holding the pages of the book, the warmth of spring, the heat of summer, the freshness of autumn and the warmth of winter are all treasured in our hearts.. The four seasons continue, the sun rises and the sun sets, the morning dew and the night moon, where is the vain hope?     In the middle of the night listening to the rain, the rain trickled down, and the endless sorrow and sorrow flooded into my mind, rippling in my mind one after another.. Along the slope of the back mountain, youth quietly climbed up the mountain ridge bit by bit, stroking the tender grass and pink flowers and flapping the dancing smiling butterfly.. Childhood is a mountain stream, a cloud in the forest, a dragonfly in the air, a quiet night moon, an endless fairy tale and a legend full of books.     Life is not all childlike and childish, when the broken calendar rolled up the side pages turns yellow, when there are a few dog barks that do not rhyme in the quiet night, when the footsteps of the morning wake up the lingering dreams that toss and turn, when the night moon that sinks in the west drops countless tears against the cold north wind, suddenly waking up the shy heart of the youth, the restless mood overflows the hill, crosses the familiar old house, and extends to the distance along the countryside path where the east willows are coming and grass is everywhere.. Since then, mountain green has not been around, green water has stopped flowing, laughter in childhood has been as light as clouds and clouds, sadness has been spreading like grass in the back mountain, and familiarity within reach has become unfamiliar. I know that the dream of youth has already belonged to a distant place. Countless expectations in a cold morning accompanied by the waning moon stepping on the frost and dew to get ready to go. I did not care to be reminded as soon as possible, ignoring the helpless and eager eyes full of tears. I also took the steps of youth and headed for the distance without looking back..     Along the edge of the city, strange people mingled with the hustle and bustle of people.. Surprised by the strange risks of skyscrapers, feeling deeply about the opening of asphalt roads, the bustle and bustle of the streets blinded me with simple and childish eyes.. I desperately want to blend into this city, into the dog and sword walking in the morning, into the years of driving to work, into the smoke – filled, reserved and empty wine feast . but in the dead of night, I suddenly feel very strange and guilty, there is no green hillside, no cheerful sheep, no clear stream, no bamboo pine forest, no rain and smoke, and even no bird song.!     Time and time again I took the red maple leaves from the back of the mountain on a long journey. In the days when the autumn rain filled the sky, I opened the deserted pages and counted the veins of the maple leaves, just like combing through the years of collapse.. Quietly, I walked through the streets looking for warmth and poetry. The footsteps of the medley fold up the sound waves and the dust floats in the turbid air.. The noisy bazaar sprawled across the sewage – strewn road, with hoarse cries of desperate earthquake. The traffic jam curses accompanied by the car sounds like a pot of boiling porridge and vegetables, while the paunchy yo – San – yin – Wu’s entourage rustles past the ground with the flute sound … ah, I picked up the scarred leaves rolled by the wheels and turned to flee with tearful eyes.. Along a winding lane, relive old and warm dreams. Think of the moon shadows and oil paper umbrellas in the south of the Yangtze River, and miss the days in the countryside full of childlike footprints. Only the setting sun is easy to get old, and the years are like poems. I remember the past with joy and sorrow.. In the days when autumn is high and cool, the wind is warm and smooth, a handful of fresh springs are scooped up, and childhood and youth are fondly missed poetically..     Life is tired and tired, and those poems are squeezed into the corner of Qiu Meng. Going out for a long journey is an unchangeable law, for the sake of livelihood, for the sake of days, for the sake of countless hopes and expectations.. The road ahead is destined to be dazed, and the steps ahead are destined to be crooked, but we still have to start. The emperor resigned from the White Emperor and died at Jiangling. What about the front? My friend, tell me, what is ahead?     Start again. When the morning chicken crows, with a newly fallen autumn leaf, it walks hopefully into the hazy fog and goes far away …[ Responsible Editor: Chloe ]