Deep autumn quiet, quietly walking in the October sunshine, at the intersection of the seasons, love deep autumn, but no words.
Because, has been accustomed to quietly appreciate each of the four seasons, to look down on each of the frost and wind to come, the years of scenery, slowly taste each of the life of the beautiful or unattractive encounter.
I also always like to choose a warm afternoon, sitting quietly in the autumn sunshine, the mood accompanied by thoughts, with a book and a tea in the quiet, in their own mountains and rivers, so that the gentle hours of light, soothe the life, in the warmth of the picture, listen to the wind and the leaves of the whispers, to see the dance of the falling leaves.
To be light and shadow gradient oblique, dappled light and shadow fall, such as life in a hurry and past events, sparse shadow quietly move, running water of time, in the years on the plain paper, mottled into a dream.
On the deep fall inhabited, shallow happy deep love, those who have been carved into the bone, a word and a sentence of poetry, imprinted the most beautiful traces.
The flow of light between the fingers, overflowing color warm marks, the appearance of happiness between the eyebrows, the heart of the soft time, jinxer no end of the fifty strings, the flow of the year is like the water thinking about the years.
Such a season, suitable for nostalgia, once, very like that sentence: "white tea, no other things, I'm waiting for the wind also waiting for you." Later, I realized that there is a sentence behind it: "Bitter wine folding willow now separated from each other, no wind, no moon and no you!"
"The most is the earth can not stay, Zhu Yan resigned mirror flower resigned tree." Life is an experience, do not taste the wine on earth, how to know which drunk, not trapped in the world love, who knows which tired? Occasionally the world is cool, ultimately to learn to use a drop of water purity, to face the complexity of life, and ultimately still Zhuangzhou dreamed of butterflies.
Days overlap day by day, the seasons are constantly changing, into the landscape of late autumn, even the sky also seems pale.
In the blink of an eye, the autumn deep years, flowers have been far away. Don't worry too much about meeting and separating, learn to get used to it, learn to adapt, learn to compromise. The world has too many possibilities, but there is no fixed answer.
There are times when life is caught in the middle of uncertainty, and I give the story to the years, but the years have promised me a lifetime of loneliness, the long bridge, the smoke and rain, the blue water in the boat, the clouds and smoke into the rain, so that the past, are far away with the wind.
If, the end of the prosperity is only left to fall, if, the appendices have no flower shadow, only to return, then, I will be the rest of my life loaded into the bag, send a life a high hope, and bring a letter of vicissitudes of the letterhead, the peace of the paragraph, and alone far away.
Life is like a flat boat, bumping in the dust of the rivers, lakes and seas, experiencing peaks and valleys, water waves, wind and rain, driving the life of the wavering.
"The world roams with the flowing water, counting on a dream of floating life." Life is the yin and yang half, different landscapes intertwined with different touches of life.
Many times, the mood will be stagnant, life will be tired, in the gap of time, can not stretch themselves, but nowhere to release.
So, will desire a person to listen to the heart. It's not until later that I realized that the pale and powerless talk is just a stranded memory, and in every moonlit night, it flourishes with the beauty of this side of the world and drowns out the expectations of the other side.
Autumn night is silent, the night is silent, cool and silent. Read Su Shi's poem: "The moon hangs in the sky, the leakage is broken, people are quiet. Who saw the ghostly man alone to and fro, misty lonely shadow. I was surprised to see that no one was there to save me from my hatred. I'm not going to dwell on all the cold branches, the lonely sandbar is cold."
Silent red dust, with a dead branch as a pen, write a pocket of silence, that cold branch above, only cold and warm, in their own fireworks, holding the salary of self-warming.
Experiencing the baptism of the late fall, waiting for a brand new self return, expect a beautiful coming, the rest of life to do a person who is not easily touched, insisting on their own persistence, the beauty of their own beauty, your life, need to insist on a lot, including your experience, your wisdom, your thinking, your eyesight, your beliefs.
Middle-aged people, more aware of the "sky if there is love is old, the right way is the vicissitudes of life." The weight of the Everyone's life, are in the weight forward. On the old and the small hardship, life is a trivial chicken hair, multiple identity superimposed, although the disease has degrees, still strive to pursue the good. The so-called pyrotechnic poetry, are stolen a flavor of happiness.
"A dream of Jiangnan in front of the lamp, melancholy up the mountain moon slant." Choose a corner of the place, sit quietly and listen, in the autumn water long days in the autumn color, pick an autumn flower, scoop a bend of the autumn moon, dance with the wind, step on the water and sing, I wish, all the chaos are swept away by the autumn wind.
Leaving the life of a clear air without covering up, no thoughts, no greed, no sadness, no grudges, only to let the heart and the landscape with the joy, life on the road to be treated with ease.
Autumn air is getting old, cool air, no one in the world can let you change, time and experience is just a companion, can support the life is always an inner culture, a kind of temperament, a kind of will, as well as constant reflection and correction, such as spring, summer, autumn and winter test and refinement.
Fallen trees, autumn cold into the bone. There is a wind gently blowing across my earth. Above the setting sun and autumn forests, between the reed and the flying rushes, the sound of the qin seems to flow, is the autumn wind plucked the warm and lonely strings.
"Blow to a piece of autumn fragrance, clear glory has been like snow." I raised my cup like a poet, invited the moon to chant, and portrayed the lonely and clear years as poetic and picturesque. When the moonlight and dreams are beginning to pale, and misty Jiangnan together, faded into the ancient Tang and Song dynasties. And my loneliness, holding the distant dream and the beauty of the stars, quiet as osmanthus empty fall, clear fragrance, light sound.
On the road of life, the joy of blossoming flowers, flowers fall melancholy, just a landscape of life, no need to be sentimental and sentimental. Live to others to see, is a kind of sentimentality lost. Simple and elegant life, do not envy others, alone, gentle and calm, is their own years of quiet.
Pick up a piece of fallen leaves, combing the veins of time, the fine lines, the iteration of the years interpretation of the passage of time.
Once upon a time, the life of how much cloud ambition, was all the way to the wind and dust cover. The first thing you need to do is to get your hands on some of the most popular products and services in the world, and then you can get your hands on some of the most popular products and services in the world.
Moistened with a large body of water, fill half a volume of words, sprinkle Han poetry, walking between the spring and autumn and years. A paper ink, ironing melancholy, and calm the state of mind, hidden the clamor, clear the past. On the road in late fall, all the way forward, the initial heart will not change. The first thing you need to do is to get your hands on some of the most popular products and services in the world.
The rest of his life, and cherish and line, the earth's autumn color, but the mountains and rivers and fireworks, in a hurry to walk, passing through the spring, summer, autumn and winter, and every kind of scenery let us be joyful, can not bear to give up, but had to be a little bit of the legacy of the past, because we are, in the end, only the time of the passer-by.