The sky is high and clear, and the wind is light and cloudy
Mountains and rivers, Danfeng dyeing, Lin Hanjian Su
Wilderness, silent silhouette, geese passing by
The farmhouse is full of solid warehouses and fruitful
……
In this vast land
There is always an autumn scene
Make you unforgettable...
The autumn of Beiping is a paradise on earth
Around the Mid-Autumn Festival, Beiping is the most beautiful time. The weather is lukewarm and lukewarm, and the length of day and night is evenly divided. There is no yellow wind blowing from Mongolia in winter, and there is no torrential rain carrying hail in the sky. The sky is so high, so blue, so bright, as if with a smile telling the people of Beiping: In these days, nature will not give you any threat or damage. The blue color of the North Mountain of the West Mountain has deepened a little, and every evening it is draped with various colors of xia.
Fengtai, which feeds on flowers, began to transport autumn chrysanthemums with large leaves to the city one by one, and the gardeners in the park and the art chrysanthemums who loved beauty were also ready to open a "chrysanthemum exhibition" for the strange xenomorphs they had cultivated after more than half a year's painstaking efforts and labor. The number of chrysanthemums in Beiping and the strangeness of the style are enough to a whole world.
At the same time, young students who were as proud and handsome as spring flowers went boating from Qinghua Garden, from Haidian, which produced lotus liquor, from the southeast, northwest, and northwest cities, to the North Sea; the lotus flowers had long been ruined, but the lotus leaves also stained the men and women on the boats with some fragrance.
At the same time, the People of Beiping, who are too familiar with the culture, have been preparing to give Gifts to relatives and friends since the beginning of August. Shops on the street dress themselves up like bright brides with various wine bottles and various fillings of mooncakes; even the shopkeepers who do not sell gifts must join in the fun, hang up the silk strips of the autumn festival and the big sale to welcome the autumn of Peking.
The autumn of Peking is a paradise on earth, perhaps a little more prosperous than heaven!
Excerpt from Lao She's "Four Generations Together"
Autumn perchs in the farmhouse, idyllic and leisurely
Shocked off the dewdrops of the morning,
The sound of logging drifted out of the valley.
Put down the sickle that has been eaten with the aroma of rice,
Use the back basket to hold the fat melon fruit between the bamboo hedges.
Autumn perched in farmhouses.
Throw a round net at the cold mist on the river,
Put away the shadow of the bream-like black oak leaves.
The reeds are full of white frost,
Gently shake the paddle of the returning paddle.
Autumn game on a fishing boat.
Kusano was even more sparse in the sound of crickets.
The stream was clearer because of the dryness of the stone.
Where is the flute on the back of the cow,
That flute hole full of the incense and heat of the summer night?
Autumn dreams in the eyes of the shepherd girl.
Excerpt from He Qifang's "Autumn"
Autumn in the old capital comes clearly and quietly
In Beiping, even if you don't go out, it is in the sea of people in the imperial city, renting a rafters of broken houses to live, getting up in the morning, making a bowl of strong tea, sitting in the courtyard, you can also see the very high turquoise sky, you can hear the flying sound of the pigeons in the blue world. From the bottom of the locust tree leaves, counting a trace of sunlight leaking to the east, or in the waist of the broken wall, quietly facing the blue flowers of the trumpet-like morning glory (Asahi), you can naturally feel the autumn mood. When it comes to morning glory, I think it is better to be blue or white, followed by purple-black and reddish. It is best to teach a few thin and long autumn grasses that are sparsely scattered at the bottom of the morning glory as a foil.
The locust tree in the north is also a kind of dropout that can remind people of autumn. Like a flower and not a flower, it will be covered with the ground when it rises in the morning. When you step on it, there is no sound, no smell, only a little bit of a very fine and soft touch. After sweeping the street in the shadow of the trees, the silk lines of the brooms left on the gray soil look both delicate and leisurely, subconsciously and subconsciously and also feel a little lonely, the ancients said that the sycamore leaves and the world knows the autumn, about these deep places.
There are also autumn rains, and the autumn rains in the north also seem to be stranger than the southern ones, with a pleasant and more decent rain.
Autumn, the autumn of the northern country, if it can be retained, I would like to fold two-thirds of my life in exchange for a fraction of a third.
Excerpt from Yu Dafu's Autumn in the Old Capital
Only the autumn after the harvest is so quiet and peaceful
I suddenly remembered a sentence: "As soon as I pounced on you, I felt infinite tenderness." I also remembered one of my words: "I sleep in your dreams." ”
It was a clear morning, and when I woke up after a solid night's sleep, I saw your hazy, fragrant face next to the pillow. You smile, like a faint flower quietly opening in the lotus pond, in the rain, in the fog.
The warm chords that follow bring a sparse idyllic landscape. Autumn dissolves the green of the earth, and with its neutral tone, it uniformly adjusts all the colors. Harmonious and noble, stable and comfortable, only the harvested autumn can be so quiet and serene.
A few gleaming stacks of wheat straw, a wisp of silver-blue translucent cooking smoke, a tree here and there standing comfortably on the plain, a weedy cow here and there.
In the setting of the strings, a quiet and beautiful face gradually floated up in my heart. I once sketched this face with a kiss like a painter's pen: contours, eyebrows, eyes, lips... This kind of sketch is very wonderful, invisible but deeply remembered. The small swirls at the corners of your mouth, the fluttering eyelashes, the bulging brain doors, and the tiny, smooth plane on your pointed chin...
The close-up scenery swept past my eyes, the distant view followed me slowly forward, the earth slowly rotated like a record, and this human pastoral song was constantly ringing in my ears...
Excerpt from Feng Jicai's "Autumn Music"
Today's topic
Where is your favorite autumn scene?
Leave a message to share your fall with us!
❤
【Source: CCTV set】
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