The poplar forest in late autumn is a lyric poem written by poplar between the northern wilderness and the blue sky, which writes the deep love for the earth and the love for the sky on the golden leaves! The autumn wind is its most devout reader, and when the autumn wind recites, the boundless poetry and painting sway like a butterfly dance overflowing between the lines... And walking through these beautiful lines of poetry, I feel the golden butterfly occasionally kissing my lips, my cheeks, my cheeks...
How many times have I called your name in my dreams, but when you really stood in front of me, at that moment my heart seemed to have transformed into a carrier of poplar lyricism, feeling the soft golden carpet of poplars overlapping with affection under my feet; at that moment my body also seemed to become the image of Poplar Lin's poem, feeling this pure golden yellow, my whole body and mind seemed to be in a golden dream, and it was like bathing in a golden ocean... I don't want to walk out of that poem, I don't want to leave the sea of dreams, even if I will always become a leaf of poplar lyricism!
Autumn is coming, the poplar leaves turn from green to yellow, from yellow to withered, a gust of autumn wind blows, the poplar leaves have pounced on the earth, and after a few days, the bushes are covered with a thick layer. Poplar leaves are the best fuel and contain oil. I saw someone under a poplar tree in the distance carrying a basket, folding the leaves into piles and stuffing them into sacks or baskets.
By the time the wind blew, the trunk of the poplar tree was bare, and the vigorous branches were like steel forks straight into the blue sky, showing stubbornness and uprightness. The bone-chilling wind carried snow particles and pounced on its tall body without any shelter, wreaking havoc and whipping, while it preferred not to bend or move, only the sound of the treetops being beaten by the wind and the snow shaking off the branches. The body of the poplar tree does not bend, it never stands straight, and even the strongest wind cannot bend it. I once saw a blown poplar tree on the Internet, it was in the summer, a leafy poplar tree, swept by a tornado, the poplar tree was overwhelmed and broke at the waist, and the wind could not help it.
The poplar forest in late autumn is a holy fairy tale. It spreads out from the far side of the sky, and then writes the past to the other end of the sky... Word after word, sentence after sentence is never crowded, not chaotic. Maybe this is the character of poplar, the theme and style of this fairy tale. Believe it or not, every poplar tree, they simply know only to cling to the blue sky and white clouds growing, they only know how to repay Mother Earth, they have to go up and up.
Therefore, they do not know how to look left and right, and they do not know how to fight with each other. Believe it or not, the two poplars that are close together are by no means interspersed with side branches, or even rubbed by the skin. Even underground, their roots have almost no collateral roots, but the main roots go deep into the center of the earth. They seem to understand that they are just a sentence, a word, or just a punctuation in this fairy tale, and if anyone stands in the wrong position, he will fail to live up to the ingenuity of the writer. And walking in this holy fairy tale, I really want to be a poplar from the heart, and live in this fairy tale.
The poplar forest in late autumn is also a landscape in late autumn. Out of the noisy city, out of the depression of work, out of the irritability and entanglement of life... Along the outskirts of the Blue Sky Avenue or Baiyun Avenue, breathe in the fresh air, and gradually enter this beautiful poplar forest. While enjoying the romantic atmosphere of poetry and fairy tales, listen to the locals, if you are lucky enough, you can also pick some wild mushrooms, and then go home and stew a pot of wild mushroom black chicken soup, the taste is too beautiful to say, but unfortunately I am not the lucky one, I have been looking for a long time, and I have not found a single wild mushroom.
I stood quietly under the poplar tree, just like an old friend, quietly listening to your legend in the wind, late autumn has arrived, the winter cold current has swept the whole earth, I can't help but think that you will not be afraid of the cold current? A cold wind blew, you didn't move, I think I already know the answer.