Dangui wafting incense, red maple painting new makeup, daisies spitting out color, grass yellow, falling leaves swirling around the dream soul... This season, along the Gujiashan laneway, accompanied by fresh winds, white clouds are dependent on each other, grass and trees are familiar and kind, and the cool wind is full of poetic beauty.
Unconsciously, the autumn wind rose again. The wind blows the leaves and picks up all kinds of fallen leaves along the way, and the drifting seems to let people let go of all the distractions, get away from the hustle and bustle, and find a quiet and proper place for the heart.
A leaf falls and knows late autumn, Gu Jiashan's autumn, quiet and refreshing, elegant like a girl, light singing and dancing, ethereal. A flower, a grass, a tree; a small bridge, a flowing water, a laneway, a white wall Dewa is a scene of its own... With an ancient willow, unexpectedly encountered in a bluestone alley; the old locust tree, making good wishes, gently told the story that belonged to that time.
An autumn rain, tangled into the eyes, misty, poetic, time is intoxicated here. The road surface in Huacun is wet with autumn rain, and the air is particularly refreshing and refreshing. Such a scene is a little hazy, as if seeing the traces of the passage of time in the picture book of time, like the door in memory, old, mottled, no matter when it is pushed open, it exudes a familiar smell. The taste of missing.
Gu Jiashan in the autumn rain is like a beauty in the morning mist, surrounded by light veils, looming and exquisite. A song away from the death, wrapped in autumn cool, Yi people against the window, holding hands to look at each other, watching the smoke and rain in Jiangnan, listening to the twilight rain and cold cicadas, dialing a window of autumn dreams, into the hometown of the moon.
(Source: Silver Cultural Brigade)