The favorite is autumn, the cool autumn wind, with the fragrance of micro-green herbs. Walking through twilight campuses, yellow silver apricots, with the autumn wind swaying, and occasionally a few of them fall down, like butterflies, and dances with grace. When I was young, I had to go back to Grandma's house during the harvest. And with their neighbours running on the fields, tired, they stopped, they took a breath, they were full of fresh air. And the sun is west, sitting under the tree of the mountains, and picking up a few red mountains, and scrambling with the little companions. Now it's not very realistic to look at the trees. On his way home from work, he saw the mountains on the fruit stand, which he remembered as a child and bought a round of them. Stay in the kitchen, wash the mountains and cut them down, slowly make the sauce, as if the time was slowing down. In this quiet hour, the mountains are made of sacrificial sauce, put away with cleaved bottles, and leave the autumn behind, with happiness and sweetness。
