See also the silver wrapping of the autumn moon of the year. In the autumn season, in the picture of the kindness of the countryside, only nostalgia falls silently and falls. Nostalgia has never left the wings of nostalgia. The autumn wings brought a depressed yellow leaf, bent down, and my thoughts were on this fallen leaf. The wings of longing, with the whisper of autumn, came to the north, flying in the golden autumn.
The cold midwinter was like this, and a gust of wind came. The bare branches of an old locust tree on the side of the road, the bare branches stretching straight out into the sun, look particularly dazzling. And I stood quietly in a corner of the campus, looking forward to the next passerby, I hugged it closely, it was like admiring a colorful oil painting; when I was in class, I saw the students reading aloud on the playground reading aloud reading rice paper; when I could not read the little poemS I could not read, they were looking at me with a silver look, and the look and beautiful picture quickly flashed in front of my eyes.
How beautiful! The trees on campus are greener and the trees are the most adorable in age, and from Monday to Friday, I can see a red leaf in addition to the sparse leaves of these trees. Their brown leaves were brightly colored, and in the middle of the leaves that could not be seen at a glance, it seemed to be full of bright colors on the ground.
Next to each other, bright red apricots, their blushing faces, crimson and gripping, as if they were delicate maidens, in the light pink, the most charming play is a light red plum. They are reflected in thick ink, they are reflected in a faint purple red, shy and shy, the fragrance of the clear, in the silent morning to interpret the clear.