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This afternoon, I was immersed in such a painting, and I couldn't help it: under the blue sky, a happy peasant woman stood on the Yuan Ye in autumn. Behind her, large areas of sunflowers and corn have matured. The once dense green leaves turned into warm golden yellow, and the sunflower, smiling at the sun, was finally bent down by heavy joy, and the corn also smiled unexpectedly, revealing a full heart. The woman in blue and white clothes and khaki pants, her hands gently twisted her skirt, and her mouth was full of joy. At her feet, a basket full of sunflowers told me that she harvested in autumn.

In this warm color-based picture, a theme of peace, detail and joy is conveyed. Draw the bottom corner, simple four words: it's autumn again. I know that I am not a person who knows painting, and I can't exactly understand the true meaning of painting. I only know that when I wander in such a painting, it is like being in a beautiful autumn. I am immersed in this true and natural beauty. Yes, autumn has come, and nature is playing a big drama about autumn. Maybe I can't participate in those chapters about harvest, but looking at this happy woman, my heart will drift away with her eyes.

Speaking of autumn, it is really a season that can make people think high. Not to mention the blue sky that suddenly became Gao Shuang, and the heavy harvest made people linger. Just knocking over the colorful trees on the palette makes people feel that autumn is really a beautiful season. You see, the autumn sky is so blue and so high, and there is no impurity in the blue, which makes people's hearts pure and quiet as water. The autumn wind, without the heat of summer, is slowly cool and refreshing. Autumn flowers are more gorgeous than summer flowers, and the beauty of life is fully displayed in colorful flowers.

Autumn is bright and colorful, and it can't be described by simple colors. Look at the golden rice fields, red sorghum, white cotton, green vegetable beds and colorful flowers, all with their own unique colors, drawing a heavy stroke for autumn. I like autumn, but I have to say that my heart aches for the color of autumn. The ancient poem describing autumn is: "The rain invades the urn and the new moss is green, and the autumn leaves are red." "Blue sky, yellow leaves, autumn colors, cold smoke on the waves." The words Liao Liao are all autumn. Autumn really provides a topic for poets to sing.

Love autumn, not only because of its beauty, but also because it is the harvest season. Spring sowing in summer sowing, autumn is the time to test the results. In the countryside, farmers are busiest in autumn. Whether to hand in a blank sheet of paper will be revealed at this time. In spring, as long as you sow a seed, you can harvest a lot of food in autumn. Nature always favors hardworking people. As long as you work hard, God will always give you the best harvest. Countless fruits are condensed with many expectant eyes, and golden harvest is full of many longings. In autumn, farmers' smiles are sweet and dreams are fragrant.

Natural autumn is charming because it condenses the essence of the world. Is the autumn of life so beautiful? Now that we have entered the autumn of life, looking back, we can't help but feel uneasy. Although it has also experienced spring sowing and summer sowing, in autumn, there is little joy for farmers. Is my season full of troubles, or am I lazy and failed to live up to the good times? Looking at those immature fruits in the shy bag, I really imagine the simple woman in the painting, smiling at autumn scenery and having a basket full of harvest.

"Since ancient times, autumn has been sad and lonely. I say autumn is better than spring." Don't grieve for autumn every autumn, but face everything with a philosophical attitude. Liu Yuxi's T can't help but enlighten people. Although the natural autumn means the end, the autumn of life is not just the end. Through the eager eyes of the peasant woman, I know that my life can actually start in autumn. Yes, since autumn, although we have missed a season, as long as we devote ourselves wholeheartedly and face it bravely, there will still be a fruitful autumn of our own.

Autumn, autumn

Morning glory vines are everywhere, and small purple waves have been hitting my window until it suddenly closes. Sunlight is dazzling white, like tin, like many glowing metals. Which wise ancient people remember that wood is like spring and gold is like autumn? We like the green color of wood, but how can we not admire the brilliance of metal? By the way, you can feel it even with your eyes closed. In the clouds, on the reeds, on the bamboos all over the mountains, and in the long winds all over the mountains, it fluttered down like this. In our city, if the summer is too long, the autumn scenery will inevitably appear later. But autumn will never be confused-this hard and clear metal season. Let's recognize it from the cool breeze, let's recognize it from the newly cut grass fragrance. This is the 25th autumn in my life, but I am still very excited. As a poet said. "Still superstitious about beauty." Yes, when the fiftieth autumn comes, I'm afraid I'll still be so obsessed with beauty. At that time, I was in Nanjing, and I just started to remember some fragmentary things. Beautiful villages often appear in this painting. I quietly walked away from the adults and sat alone on the grass. The plane leaves began to fall and fall, and many mysterious aesthetic feelings fell into my heart together. I was lost at once, and my little heart could hardly bear the excitement. I just picked up a fallen leaf in confusion. The leaves are yellow-brown and curved, like a boat carrying dreams. There are two beautiful phoenix trees beside the boat, which will last for a long time. Every time there is a gust of wind, I shuttle through the rain of fallen leaves and pick up the plane trees all over the ground. There must be one or two buttonwood trees that I didn't pick up sprouting on the grass, right? Twenty years later, I seem to hear the distant west wind and the rustling of leaves in the wind. I can also see those boats carrying dreams, sailing on the grassland, sailing in the hope of a seed. I remember that evening on the small balcony, and at the end of my sight was an ancient city wall. In the double desolation of dusk and autumn, I often don't know who added a flute desolation. I like this sad beauty, inexplicably so. My little uncle once walked all the way to the wall. Those mottled stones and overgrown grass make me feel indescribable. When I grow up, I always feel familiar with the gloomy and sad artistic conception when I read Xin Jiaxuan's words. What words are actually familiar to me? What I am familiar with is the autumn colors of ancient Nanjing. Later, when I arrived in Liuzhou, the city was full of mountains and trees. Walking in the street, there is always the smell of orange pomelo on both sides. There is a mountain in front of the school. I always thought it was a hundred thousand mountains in geography textbooks. In autumn, the mountains are clear and yellow, and the blue sky appears higher. "Yuanyuan," I asked my companion in awe. "Can you teach Gong, our art teacher, to draw this mountain?" "Yes, he can." "Of course, of course," she cried eagerly. "It's a pity that he broke his hand playing basketball recently. Otherwise, he can paint all over Liuzhou and all over the world. " There was a long silence. "Is it true?" "Really, of course." I looked at her and then at the mountain, the sacred, beautiful and deep autumn mountain. "No, it's impossible." I suddenly said with certainty, "He can't draw, certainly not." I don't remember how the debate ended that day. And that girl Yuanyuan and I have been separated for more than ten years. If I can see it again, I will still insist on it like that. No one can draw a mountain like that, no one can. Yuanyuan, what about you? Do you admit it now? I met a girl named Yuanyuan the year before last, and I was anxious to ask her, but she smiled and said that she didn't remember living in Liuzhou. Then she's not you. No one can forget Liuzhou, and no one can forget that lush, heavy, golden and indescribable mountain. The days were exhausted by the west wind, and a series of metallic days were accompanied by happy jingles. Finally, when people grow up, they can read Autumn Songs, ride bicycles and imagine the feeling of Lu Fangweng's "listening to the autumn wind all the time". Travel in autumn, as usual, there are glowing memories in the photo album. I still remember that time, when I came back from swimming, I sat on a tour bus. "Which season do you like best?" I asked Ji. "Autumn." She simply replied that her eyes were full of all the beautiful Qiu Guang. I suddenly became happy. "Me too, ah, we all are." She told me many stories about autumn, about Shan Ye and the countryside. She also described to me the small pond where she often sleeps and the endless fruits in the forest. As the bus went along, the students got off at the station and the carriages became more and more empty. "Chi," I suddenly lowered my head, "when we get old, our life companions will get off one by one, and our seats will slowly loosen. What will happen to you? " "I will be very sad." She said gloomily. What are we doing? Zhi, we just said some stupid things about little girls, which are deep and incomprehensible. However, in any case, the days when we hide in the bushes to study and sleep together are beautiful. Now, you are working in the deep mountains in central China, working like a missionary, and loving those simple mountain souls from the bottom of your heart. At the beginning of this year, we met again, and the mood was still so good. Sitting on a small ferry, the thin blue fog of Danshui River has not been uncovered in the morning, and the sound is very loud. Go on with your mountain story. "Sometimes, when I go to the mountains, I slowly climb many mountains by myself." You said, "Suddenly, I stopped and found mountains all around! It's all majestic blue! I stood in surprise, ah, how can it be so beautiful! " I look at you, Ji, and my heart is full of happiness. After so many years apart, we are all safe, and our dreams are all safe-those high mountains! Dreams that do not belong to the horizon. Now, autumn in our mountains is very thick and white. Occasionally, an autumn rain falls, and a thin chill attacks people. There is often a cold moonlight after rain, which makes people feel sad about autumn. What about your home? Isn't it time to put on a faint autumn scenery outside the window? How suitable autumn is for the love of an old friend, and how suitable it is for the bright dream wrapped in silver! With the wind, purple waves churned, turning the coolness of a mountain in autumn into my heart. I like this season, but I feel very lonely. It's not that I don't love the tenderness of spring, nor that I don't yearn for the heat of summer. Only life should be serious, mature and sacred, just like what autumn has given us-but who knows? Who knows? Who will appreciate the depth? The mountains in the distance are retreating, and the ruins in the distance are covered with calm indigo. Moreover, the woody orchids nearby are still fragrant. (Fragrance is really a kind of power that can govern a large area of land. ) Xiaoxiao rushed out from the cracks. In Yuanye, there was a line of running script that no one could understand. This is a poem with vivid twists and turns, which is used to describe pure Qiu Guang. And my title page is empty, I don't have a poem, but I love autumn with all my piety and awe. May my life be the same. There are not too many gorgeous spring flowers, too many floating Xia Yun, no noise, no rotating colors, only a quiet and simple white, only the depth and seriousness of mature life, only dreams, as eager and rich as a red maple. Autumn, this hard and bright metal season, is my deep love.