Half a foot deep withered leaves accumulated in the woods. When the wind blew, they whirled and flew up. They spread out evenly, covering the path that sloped and circled to the top of the mountain.
I looked up to the sky, the beauty of the sunset set set off infinite sorrow in my heart, an impulse to shed tears occupied the whole body and mind.
The autumn wind passes, the grain is fragrant. The fields of crops, in the distance, seem to roll over a thousand waves; in the near future, the rice laughs and bends, the sorghum blushes, and the corn is happy.
Dressed in long green hair, weeping willows have become yellow and dry today. With the cool autumn wind, leaves are falling one after another, like a little girl dancing for tourists.
The summer cicada has gone, the autumn insect has gone, the green shade has begun to be sparse, and the yellow leaves have covered the path. Wild wilderness, even weeds began to wither, the sun rushed past, long white clouds sighed the short life and the approaching of winter.
Fallen leaves, some dancing like butterflies, some flying like orioles, and some like dancers in light rotation.
The fruit of the grape is ripe. Under the leaves of the grape with falling leaves in the green, there are a bunch of bright grapes, like a bunch of purple-black pearls.
The hot summer is leaving us gradually, and the autumn girl walks into our life with light steps. Autumn is a season full of fruits and melons. Let's go and see the orchard in autumn.
Watch autumn, gaze at a pool of autumn water, look at the red leaves of Nanshan, look at the clouds, clouds, trees, water shadow overlap, pure dust-free autumn gradually rose in the heart.
Walking in the cool early autumn wind, tree shadows whirling, light sunshine mottled shadows, cast from the ancient camphor forest, bring warmth and light to the world.
The beauty of golden autumn is rational. It is not so charming as spring, hot in summer and implicit in winter.
The clear sky is as blue as the sea, and the white clouds are like sailing boats, floating slowly.
White dew for the frost of autumn night, a round of cold moon by you look thin, gently pick up the fragmented affection, palm fragrance, a bit by bit, conscientiously sniff into the heart.
Autumn, like a woman who has gone through the hustle and bustle of the world, has gradually become mature and quiet, no longer noisy, no longer like a little woman who is not familiar with the world, but learned to calm down.
Compared with the magnificence of spring, the flashiness of summer and the silence of winter, autumn is a great middle-aged man who has not yet reached the end of his life.
When the autumn wind blows, the leaves on the trees slowly fall to the ground like butterflies, laying a golden carpet on the ground.
Autumn is a true display of natural tones, fresh and elegant, ripe fruit, golden paddy fields. Red maple leaves, behind the harvest, experience hardship and sweat, making this season more charming.
Golden rice dances and sings autumn songs in the breeze.
The fruit of the grape is ripe. Under the yellow green leaves of the grape, there are a bunch of bright grapes, like a bunch of purple-black pearls.
Look, in the woods, those red maple trees, like burning, in the sky a row of geese are flying to the warm south, the sound of geese is their farewell voice.
The autumn rain falls behind, leaving a lot of heartache of flowers; the smell of tears in the rain, the red and soulless encounter, dyed the hearts of unhappiness.
Golden leaves broke away from mother Dashu's embrace, floated and drifted, and fell to the ground, which seemed to be covered with a beautiful carpet, very beautiful.
In late autumn, the wheat seedlings in the fields are green, green and oily, lush and full of life.
Autumn is golden rice in the fields. Autumn is the fruit of trees. Autumn is the welfare of the working people. People's expectations for a better future in autumn.
Summer is a passionate Gypsy girl, without the shyness of holding the pipa half-veiled, completely whether she can be happy, angry and sad.
Because the arrival of autumn, heart filled with a kind of sadness, lingering, dust-laden memories are always very clear open.
Autumn is a great farmer. You sow all kinds of food. Autumn is a great teacher. He teaches us endless knowledge. Autumn is a famous star. Her singing and dancing bring us joy.
The rice is ripe. The golden paddy fields, a string of full and full rice ears, are carrying farmers'yearly sustenance and dreams.
Autumn is the harvest season, time in the mid-summer dark green fields, in the blown golden wind, charming dance, drunken; Fandai fragrance, exuding attractive fragrance; colorful, dazzling.
Or the first light of the morning, or the evening glow of the mountain street, sitting alone in autumn, high sky, light clouds, distant mountains, near trees, bird song, the curtain of the sky, a far-reaching sounds of heaven Symphony rise in the bottom of your heart.
Autumn is like mother's hand, touching our faces. Autumn is like a story about harvest. Autumn is like a waking baby, full of spirit!
The maple leaves are now red and red. When the wind blows, the maple leaves leave the branches and fall resolutely, just like a beautiful butterfly dancing.
Watching the flourishing fall of autumn rain makes my heart feel astringent; looking at the gray-blue sky makes me feel a little sad; listening to the quiet talk of autumn rain makes me feel slightly sad.
Looking up at the sky in the autumn sun, a quiet flowing cloud, covering the warm light, in the distance, mountains, waters, clouds, trees seem to overlap in the line of sight, the sky is high, cloudy, accompanied by a pure dust-free autumn heart.
The persimmon trees are hung with small red lanterns like flames, like full-fed little dolls, so cute! uuuuuuuuuuu
Autumn is in the woods. The woods are yellow. The leaves of each ginkgo tree turn yellow and float to the foot of the mother tree. It is like a small fan, which fan, fan away the hot summer.
A gust of autumn wind blew through the leaves and made a loud laugh. Some leaves resemble green needles and some resemble children's palms. Some leaves fall like dancing butterflies.
The autumn rain is falling and falling. Like silk, like silk, like fog, like smoke. Falling on the face, cold silk, flowing into the mouth, sweet Jinjin, like rice wine, like honey, makes people as drunk, as dream, as demented, as drunk.
Late autumn, leaves withered yellow, one after another fell to the ground, like a layer of yellow carpet, only the cockscomb can not bear to thank, quite independent cold autumn flavor.
The autumn wind, dancing the high and wonderful baton, slowly and slowly, lightly and heavily, can harmonize the chorus of the sound of autumn with its own free edge!