Stories about Autumn

There are two ways to start a story: "A long, long time ago" or "Many years from now", which I call "past tense" and "future tense". I call them "past tense" and "future tense". Today, I'm going to tell a story in the present tense. (Since it's already fall, let's tell a story that happened in the fall!)

It was Sunday and the sun was shining.

Ice wandered aimlessly down the street, the CD in his satchel spinning under the round plastic case, the fuzzy voice of Jay Chou in his ears.

By all appearances, Bai Bing is one of those unruly teenagers. Indeed, someone who idolizes Han Han is pretty rebellious anyway.

At the intersection in front of him was a recently built flyover, with a circular design that was both innovative and imposing, a new highlight of the city that people praised. But Bai Bing always thought it looked like a turtle -- a deformed turtle with overgrown limbs.

Bai Bing smiled and walked slowly up the back of the turtle. The footbridge was crowded with people, most of them in family-oriented groups. Bai Bing looked at the happy and innocent smiles of the children and felt a vague sense of loss in his heart.

(See here you may ask: "White ice lost what?" Sorry, I don't know. It's up to you to imagine.)

White Ice crossed the street and was about to walk down the footbridge when a girl sitting on the footbridge sketching caught his eye. Bai Bing wondered: what was there to draw in this steel forest that was so commonplace in the city? Did she think it was beautiful? Curious, Bai Bing walked over.

She was a very quiet girl, drawing with a pencil on white sketch paper, looking up from time to time to see the road stretching straight ahead. Behind her was a bustling crowd, but she didn't care in the slightest, completely immersed in her own world.

White ice's curiosity grew. He carefully walked behind the girl and observed her painting.

This was a painting that Bai Bing thought he would never be able to make in his life: the streets, trees, buildings, all so vivid, and the brush strokes, though not many, were just right to draw out a beautiful landscape. But what made Bai Bing feel strange was that there was not a single car or person on the screen, it was all still life.

(You must be surprised, "What's going on here?") Don't worry, let's move on.)

"Hello!" Bai Bing couldn't help but interrupt the girl's painting.

"Can I help you?" The girl turned her head and smiled as she questioned Bai Bing.

"You draw really well!" Somehow, Bai Bing felt a little embarrassed, "But why do you only draw still lifes and not pedestrians and vehicles?"

A faint layer of sadness floated in the girl's eyes. She sighed and said softly, "Because I can't catch them."

"Can't catch them?" Bai Bing was puzzled.

"Right. They are fleeting, moments of beauty. My pen can't capture them in a hurry, so I can only paint still lifes forever."

The girl's words were tinged with a hint of sadness, and Bai Bing fell a little sorry that he had asked her that.

As if she had seen what was on White Ice's mind, the girl added, "However, I'm satisfied that I've been able to see so many beautiful moments. Although I wasn't able to draw them on paper, I have long since memorized them in my heart."

White Ice looked at this special girl in front of her and didn't know what to say.

The girl took out a tiny piece of paper and wrote something on it, then handed it to Bai Bing with a smile.

White Ice took the paper and looked at it, on it was a line of beautiful words, "Cherish all the beautiful things around you and you will be happy."

White Ice chewed on this sentence over and over again, and suddenly, he seemed to understand something, and a big smile appeared on his face. He darted down the footbridge like a child and waved at the girl who was still sketching on the footbridge, "Thank you! Bye!"

The girl looked at Bai Bing's distant back and smiled back.

White Ice felt that all the unpleasant mood he had been in for days was swept away, and he hummed happily along with Jay Chou's voice in his headphones:

"The story's little yellow flower, floating from the year it was born ......"

"The story's little yellow flower, floating from the year it was born. p>(Is the story over? It isn't. Each of us continues our own story. Well, don't get caught up in White Ice's story, go enjoy your own good life!)

Autumn Story

I adore a picture on my own computer desktop: an avenue filled with golden leaves, almost completely covering the road. Alongside the road, are tall French sycamores. The color of the ground and the leaves on the tree is the same tone, a golden yellow. As soon as I opened the screen, the golden yellow entered my eyes, staring at the golden avenue stretching into the distance, as if I heard a story, a story from the fall, in which there is a beautiful song - the song of the falling leaves

!

Liu Yuxi, a poet of Tang Dynasty, wrote: "Since ancient times, autumn is sad and lonely. A crane in the clear sky rows up the clouds, and it leads poetry to the blue sky." This poem aroused my ****ing, I think autumn is not lonely and sad, it has a unique beauty.

I like autumn, I like the autumn leaves. Some people like to look at the falling leaves, looking at the look into the sadness, frustrated. But I, to see the falling leaves falling scene, is another feeling: they are dancing happily. I like to listen to the sound of the wind blowing the falling leaves, that is the leaves are singing to their heart's content.

I love autumn, and I love the profound connotation of autumn. Once, on the way back from school, I was in a very depressed mood, I unknowingly walked into a forest: there is a golden road, there are ripe fruits in autumn, and the unique fragrance of autumn. Gradually, I was intoxicated, forgetting my worries and sorrows, and I fell in love with autumn. Previously, I always thought that autumn was boring, dull and depressed. The only thing I remember is the sluggish autumn wind and dry tree trunks. Now I feel beautiful, harvest and unique about it. That golden road is like the Avenue of Life. It is this unique autumn with its profound connotation gave me the revelation: we want to achieve something, we must pay hard labor. As the saying goes, you get what you put in. Thinking of this I can not help but speed up the pace.

Since then, the golden avenue full of autumn leaves has become the most solid scenery in my heart, which often brings me warmth and comfort. The song of life composed by the fallen leaves and that life avenue together, to the far away, extend, extend ......

Autumn story

Autumn is coming again, and again, the rain covered the whole sky, I reached out, the rain drops fell on my hand, is so comfortable. Suddenly, I saw the flower umbrella, and I remembered that beautiful story that happened in the fall. When I was about to step out of the door of the kindergarten, the rain started to fall again, and I had no choice but to wait patiently like this. One minute, two minutes, three minutes¨¨¨¨ the rain seemed to be playing a joke on me. Finally, I couldn't stand it any longer, and was about to pick up my bag and rush off when she appeared and handed me a flowery umbrella. I looked up and saw that it was her, so I said to her, "What are you going to do if you lend me your umbrella?" "It's okay, my house is close to the school." She said. At that time, I didn't think much about it and picked up my umbrella and went home.

The next day, I took the flower umbrella was about to return to her. She was not there. The teacher said to us in class, "A student is sick today and can't come to school, so please ask the student who lives in Yangshashan to bring her homework!" "Yangshashan!" Her family lives in Yangshashan, which is half an hour away by bus! Besides, she had to walk a long way to her home, so it would be strange if she didn't get sick! At that time, I was very remorseful, because if I didn't take her umbrella, she wouldn't have gotten sick, and if she hadn't gotten sick, she would have been able to come to school happily today. Sigh, this is all my fault, I really shouldn't have taken this umbrella! In the afternoon, she came to the class, I immediately picked up the flower umbrella and returned it to her, she took the flower umbrella and said to me, "How is it, you didn't get wet, did you?" I blushed and said, "No, I'm sorry." "It's okay, it's just an illness, what's the big deal?" After saying that, we both laughed happily.

Kindergarten was over, we were about to part, on that day I gave her a pencil case, she gave me an umbrella, the flower umbrella, the flower umbrella that set up the friendship between us.

I touched the flower umbrella, and my classmate's face appeared in front of me again. Ah, that top of the flower umbrella that I love, I do not know when I will be able to meet with your master?

Homecoming birds,

Although it is a bird,

also carry the slanting sun back.

With a flip of its wings,

it dropped the slanting sun on the river;

the reeds with their white heads

were also made up into a fleeting red face.

The night is as cool as water on the Heavenly Steps, and I sit and watch the Altair and the Weaving Maiden stars.

The Song of Wu in the Midnight

Li Bai, a piece of moon in Chang'an, the sound of ten thousand households pounding clothes.

Autumn wind can't be blown away, but it's always the Jade Gate.

When will the hu captives be pacified, and the good people stop their expedition?

Autumn Dwelling at Ba

The wind and rain are still at Ba, and I see geese traveling in the evening.

The leaves have fallen from the trees of other countries, and the lamps are cold.

The white dew drips from the empty garden, and the monks on the lonely wall are neighbors.

When will I get to this place?

Even if the distance is further away, the distance of the heart will not change, because every autumn ......

--Title

Another autumn, the sky is still blue blue blue, clear and clean, and occasionally drifted through a few floating clouds, but the original color is restored. But the original color is restored. The sky is still clear and clean, with a few floating clouds, but the original colors are back. A few fallen leaves drift down in a trance and fall to the ground, leaving behind nothing but loneliness and silence.

"Look, the flying leaves." My sister pulled my hand, looking up at a tall sycamore tree, we noticed at the same time that the falling leaves dashingly circled in mid-air and drifted down leisurely. This situation seems to have returned to the fall of two years ago ......

It was also such a day, only the air was less melancholy, a trace of uneasiness, replaced by a happy atmosphere. It was under this tree that I met the lovely Xiaoyu, a child who also loved falling leaves. Early fall leaves, always in our happiness quietly fall. Playing, playing, running ...... this big sturdy tree in the fall is our world, once we were a beautiful landscape under the tree. When resting, Xiaoyu and I leaned against the tree and talked about our ideals. Xiaoyu often said that she wanted to go to Nanjing to study. The sun was warm at that time~~~

The next few days were calm and quiet, and we were all working hard for the graduation exam. When the final bell rang for the final exam, I immediately ran out of the classroom, took Xiaoyu's hand, and happily said, "We're going to go somewhere to play in the summer vacation. But Xiaoyu broke away from my hand, holding back her tears, silent. After a long period of silence, she told me that she was going to Nanjing to study. In a flash, bitter tears, with the wind drifting away ......

When Xiaoyu left, I held her tightly in a commanding tone and told her to remember to think of me, take good care of yourself. I know la. Xiaoyu rubbed her nose and looked at me as happily as she could. In the moment she turned around , I saw in a trance one falling leaf after another fluttering down around Xiaoyu.

"Sister, what are you thinking?" My sister pulled on the corner of my coat. "Sister is remembering a very beautiful story." I raised my head,took a deep breath, the corners of my mouth rose slightly upward, closed my eyes, and looked forward to the falling leaves of the warm autumn sun again.