Autumn scenery 1000 words

Autumn is a sunny season, a harvest season, a season of sweet-scented osmanthus fragrance, and of course a beautiful season. The sky is the most beautiful in autumn. In the morning, the sky is quiet and serene, the color is as blue as the sea, and the sun "rises". It rises from the east, and the sunshine is not too strong, which makes people feel very warm. At noon, the sun is extremely fierce, like an angry uncle, which is particularly hot on people, but there are still a few birds flying freely in the air, making a "twittering, twittering" sound from time to time, as if to say, "It's hot, hot, hot!" One afternoon, the sun weakened a lot. Without much sunshine, people can vaguely see the clouds in the sky. Some of them eat like rabbits, some run like leopards, and some fly like dragons ... Although the sun is not clear on their eyes, they are very satisfied to see them! At night, the sun is not as bright as at noon. The blue sky turned pale red like a drunk. The sun gradually took off its orange coat and turned red. Everything around it was so red. It slowly returned to the embrace of the western hills, with a faint light, like a dying match. It went down, leaving a rosy glow, like a fairy's clothes falling from the sky to the ground, and it was quiet around. People are bathed in sunshine, so comfortable! At night, the sky is painted black, just like the jade emperor accidentally knocked over the ink bottle when writing. There are countless stars shining in the sky, like eyes in the sky. The big round moon illuminates the night and the way for naughty children to go home, like a lamp in the dark. And I, lying in grandpa's arms, listening to his story about the moon ... I like autumn, windy weather and changeable sky. The sky is particularly blue, like sapphire, and very high. It's like flying away. A flock of geese flew from the north, like countless wonderful black spots, lining up for a while. Near, near, they are talking and laughing, frolicking and flying south happily. In the autumn wind, she came to the world quietly like a girl, dressed in golden clothes and with light steps. You see, Miss Qiu came to the field and dyed the cotton ball as white as snow. Corn was very happy when she saw Miss Qiu. She deliberately changed a bunch of golden tassels and grinned, revealing white teeth. Soybeans may be too excited, and some even laugh their bellies off; Rice is particularly polite, bending down to meet the long-lost autumn girl; Sorghum has always been afraid of meeting strangers, that is, afraid of meeting Miss Qiu. I'm still embarrassed. My face turned red. Miss Qiu came to the yard. You see, chrysanthemums are gorgeous, red as fire, yellow as gold, pink as chardonnay and white as snow. Walk into the orchard. I saw a pear with various nutrients; A string of pearl-like grapes changed from green to dark red, long, round and big, crystal clear, like agate. After picking grapes, I picked a big one and put it in my mouth. Sweet and sour, and a lot of juice. It's delicious. Jujube trees are covered with shiny red dates. A bite is sweet and crisp. Autumn is the season to turn ideals into reality, and autumn is a sacred angel that gives people life. Autumn is the harvest season. Autumn is the time when all ripe food falls. Autumn is the harvest season. Therefore, people love autumn, love her crisp autumn, love her beautiful clouds, love her fragrance floating in the fields. Autumn makes farmers smile brilliantly. Autumn is coming and the weather makes me feel cold. I looked at the fields. It is golden yellow. Where are the leaves? Autumn leaves are colorful and unique. In the afternoon, I came to the small park, climbed to the hillside and saw ginkgo trees at a glance. Ginkgo biloba leaves are like a small fan. When the autumn wind blows, Ginkgo biloba leaves sway with the wind, like fanning us. At this time, a strange idea came into my mind: could it be that autumn is so cold that they fanned me? I looked at the ginkgo tree, and it seemed to nod to me. Ginkgo biloba leaves are pale yellow, shaking hard, and the leaves are dancing like yellow butterflies. There is also a bamboo forest in the small park, and its leaves are still so green now. From a distance, it looks like a green soldier standing upright, protecting the "natural" castle. No wonder poets often use "three friends and old coldness" to express their aloof character. Among many leaves, I like maple leaf best. In autumn, it takes off its red shirt and puts on a red cotton-padded jacket, shining like a beautiful girl in gorgeous clothes, standing out among the many leaves. Close up, the flaming maple leaves are flying around me like beautiful red butterflies, and they are like a little red flag cheering for China. Looking from a distance, it is another scenery. Maple leaf is like a fire, which ignites our enthusiasm for learning, and it is like the flag of victory dyed red by the blood of soldiers. Unconsciously, the sun sets, and the maple leaves remind me of an ancient poem, "Stop and sit and love the maple forest late, and the frost leaves are redder than the February flowers." The leaves in the evening are like a quiet and beautiful Chinese painting against the setting sun, which makes people feel pity for autumn, just like a fairy tale with a tragic ending told by a writer in his slightly sad style. I always like to use blue to describe autumn, and I always feel that this is a season with melancholy, just like. . . . . . The basin on the windowsill, bluegrass that has not been noticed for a long time but still grows tenaciously, and ice cream that melts slowly as in the past under the scorching sun. I don't know what I am stubborn about, but I always like things that hurt people. I don't admit that I am a pessimist, but I like to look at one thing with a pessimistic eye. I like to predict an unfinished thing, so I find that as long as I predict it from an optimistic perspective, it will be a pessimistic ending; If the result I predict is ominous, there will often be a happy ending. Therefore, I often treat one thing with a pessimistic attitude. There is always a flashing light of hope in my heart, like a star flashing. It's like walking in a field in autumn and occasionally seeing a piece of grass that is still green. I always like to write in the dead of night in autumn. Light a candle, or gently close your eyes on the table by moonlight. I can't hear anything, I can't see anything, and there is only a slightly sad black under my eyes. I like this feeling. There is nothing, but there is more room for thinking. Emotion is like a clear spring, gurgling outward, and the pen tip will involuntarily paddle on the paper. Occasionally, a cricket cry will be slightly sad and sad. Mermaid bubbles and bluebirds that constantly appear in dreams can also tell autumn fairy tales over and over again. However, it is not for reading, but for listening with eyes closed.