Nuan Nuan walked around the woods in front of the door, walking in the autumn full of fallen leaves, listening to the sound of falling leaves. Smelling a piece of sweet-scented osmanthus, bathing in the warm golden autumn sunshine, thinking of the thick summer that quietly left last night, and now I can

I smell the late autumn wind coming one after another, and the leaves on the big trees seem to have turned into clear and vibrant clothes.

Walk over and smell the aroma of the camphor tree. What is camphor? Camphor is a traditional Chinese medicine. Where does camphor grow? Of course it grows on camphor trees. Has anyone seen a camphor tree? Many people have seen camphor trees.

Because the camphor tree also has a well-known name, camphor tree, the camphor soaked in water is the traditional Chinese medicine camphor tree.

There are many people who know the camphor tree, but very few people have seen the medicinal materials of camphor. I am a member of the "many" and also a member of the "very few".

At this moment, I am standing on a pure white fruit tree, oh, under the camphor tree. I look up and look at the densely packed fruits hanging on the branches of Kulingzi. The fruits are about to mature, and the green skin has faded and turned into golden yellow.

, dazzling.

Whenever the west wind comes wildly and the north wind is wild, in order to stay warm through the cold winter and to welcome the new posture of spring, you always go your own way easily and get rid of the thinness bit by bit. Loy Naked Keto

The body, like Nirvana, is like a monument.

Golden leaves? Dead leaves? People who love you always praise you with noble and elegant chapters, and people who hate you always use words of envy and jealousy to smear you, but you don't care. You voluntarily give up your burdens, and one after another falls.

, overlapping, surrounding your feet, turning into dust. Turning into soil, giving back to mother, giving back to the earth.

Standing under your simple body, looking up at the fleeting years, I feel a little crazy and a little trembling. A light flashed in my mind. Only with great love can you hope to be rich, elegant, and beautiful, and choose to return in late autumn.

, no words, no regrets, no breath, no sound.

I don’t know whether it was a mistake or the wind and rain that made you cross the stone road and lean over the Weijiang River. I guess from Chunhua to Qiuyue, from the past to today. Maybe you just want to fulfill a wish and play with the churning

The color of clouds and water merges with the mystery of Jiang Tian’s changes.

Modern women don’t understand. They are cold and bitter. They wear tight pants with long legs and short legs, but their upper bodies are wrapped in thick warm clothes. Are they afraid of heat? Are they afraid of cold? Are they beautiful? Only you know. Hibernation is not just about

Patent for animals. You get rid of heavy decoration and end the survival instinct and protection.

When I was very young, I had already recorded the old camphor tree in front of the temple in my mind. In the spring and autumn of that year, people from far and near, with their sick elders and children, and with the children and grandchildren of the old woman who were weak, passed by the door of my grandparents' house.

Burn incense, kowtow, and come to the mountain to pray.

There is also a white fruit tree next to it. I don’t know how many years I have lived in the corner of the mountain pond. Talking about the origin of this tree, the local old man always said: "Ever since I was sensible, my grandfather said, it is better to listen to him

grandfather...

Some people say that there is a small hole next to the camphor tree. No matter how dry the earth is, there will always be water under the roots of the tree. It will only be filled with water. There will never be less or more. Water can cure diseases. People who suffer from strange diseases can be cured by drinking it.

Very, very effective.

This white fruit tree is very big, with thick roots. It takes two or three adults to hold hands to surround the trunk. This white tree is not very tall. According to legend, it was cut down by lightning, but it never grew taller. On the tree stump

The treetops grow again. There are also legends about the tree being struck by lightning, strange things happening, and demons appearing.

This white fruit tree looks like a weeping banyan tree from a distance, and like a crown from a close look. The duck-foot-shaped leaves change seasons like rotating lanterns. The cover is constantly adjusted. Withered and withered like frost and snow, how can I become an immortal? I am still

Don't want to make it clear.

A long time ago, I wanted to write you down in my notebook, and the opportunity finally appeared. In the Huaming North section of the city, you and your brothers and sisters held hands to draw a gallery; in the city's riverside scenery belt, you

Embed a landscape side by side with your relatives and friends.

It's autumn frost again. Fallen leaves are flying in the streets and alleys of this city.

Deciduous plants are ravaged, cut, beaten and confused by straight or rotating wind and rain. If something happens, and you, quietly put on the colorful dance, disdain the feathers.

Hibiscus flowers, pink and purple flowers, pure white flowers, light red flowers, are in all directions, emerging from the branches and leaves one by one. Crape myrtle, silvery white flowers, pink flowers, golden red flowers, layer upon layer,

Crowded at the tip, I will challenge you to lose. But you, silently holding up the golden leaves and golden fruits, are waiting for the arrival of winter.

I accompany you through the cycle of reincarnation, facing the scorching sun, against the ice and snow, from late autumn to early spring. Month after month, year after year, there are many things that I have always wanted to tell you, but have never told you, and there are also many stories.

, I always wanted to tell you, but I didn’t tell you. There are some words and some stories that I didn’t tell you.

This is not your motherland, and you can’t hear your accent here. Where are you from? Where were you born? You never confess your wandering past to the vast land, but hide your wandering experience in the vast land.

In the sky. I can’t stop, just to share the abundance with you.

Every spring, the flowers are blooming, but you are leisurely and contented, revealing a few new branches, breathing a bit of tender yellow, and then burst out bunches of light green naked children from there. The leaf buds are spit out. The appearance does not reflect the characteristics of the flowers. The flowers

Not like a flower, not like a fruit. You hide the stamens and also hide the quilt.

Will the pros and cons of history always be explored by future generations? Not necessarily. Just like people who love you and hate you, they all have their own worldview. The difference between the reader and the author is just one word, and what the author writes is only for the readers.

Anything else, really, is buried deep in my heart.

A hundred flowers are blooming and a hundred schools of thought are contending, so why not? I question the doubts in my heart, but your branches and leaves are trembling, seeming to be spreading secrets: there will always be shadows under the sun, there will always be the evil wind of self-righteousness, there will always be the rain of envy and envy.

.You said that the foundation was built by wind and rain, and the foundation is thick.

People have yin and yang, light has light and dark, mountains have ravines and peaks, and water has clarity and turbidity. You coldly stage the Spring and Autumn drama on the winter and summer stage, one after another, one after another, quarrels, grievances, grievances, grievances.         A cup of loess, a pillow of yellow

Liang then sighed, why bother, why bother.

Your past and present lives are chaotic, because countless generations have been screening, discarding, shielding, compiling, covering up, destroying, tampering with, and whitewashing. You don’t want to wrong yourself, nor do you want to cater to others, make him strong, let him go, be calm and have a clear mind.

There is a breeze in the moon!

The four seasons reincarnate, autumn comes and goes. Is the flowering period of life too short? Or is the fleeting pace too hasty? In this corner of greetings and farewells, I don’t know how to place my missing heartstrings.

Sitting alone at the Qiushui Ferry, swirling the fragrance in my heart, turning over the clear stream left by the passage of time, looking at it, leaving behind my mood along the way, leaving behind the joy and hesitation along the way. The road.

A trace of elegance seeps out from the heart, quietly enriching the passing time. Gentle thoughts are rippling in the autumn wind. The past is like flowers, exuding intoxicating fragrance.

At every stage of the journey, the deep and shallow traces left behind clearly record the ups and downs of life.

In the passing years, some people come and go; some fates gather and disperse; some things turn into stories in an instant; some love, although short-lived, has been deeply rooted in people's hearts; some people are close at hand, but never destined for life.

I always want to find a bottle to seal the joys and sorrows of the world, the warmth and coldness of the world, the ups and downs of life, and let my heart flow away with the water and the wind.

However, in the journey of gains and losses, in the ups and downs of emotions, there are always some thoughts that accompany you like a shadow; there are always some insights that are deeply remembered in my heart.

Time is like this, between thinking and not thinking, the heart is on this road, half bright and half dark.

I always think that if I don’t think about it anymore, I won’t be sad anymore; I always feel that as the years go by, those who can’t let go will turn around and leave when the tears fall.

Turning around will be forever.

Everyone has his own world. In this world, I have encountered a lot of reluctance, and I have also seen flowers bloom and wither. How many times have I dreamed of riding the wind and waves, and how many times have I done it? I burst into tears.

Maybe those emotions are always hard to give up, maybe those people and those things will always be missed. The reason why they still appear in my heart from time to time is because time cannot go back to the past. In this way, this life is so miserable,

Time flies and people grow old.

The past years have left a lot of sadness, and as the years pass, a lot of beauty has been eroded. Those sad thoughts have always been firmly remembered in my heart.

Perhaps traveling in the warm autumn days can make the heart pure and settle. The fragrance of flowers, the melancholy of rain, the loneliness of wind, and the lightness of moon can carry my thoughts and write the years with a plain pen.

A page of autumn love, a touch of poetry, a thought. Walking with a low eyebrow in the light days, those unforgettable hatreds, those unchanging loves in this life, those worries that make you sleepless and eating, those deep and painful thoughts, are here

This moment of bright autumn day turned into his indifferent smile.

When a person turns around, his whole life is over. What can't be endured? Looking back on life, what can't be let go? Time flies, and the wind and rain of the years are all passers-by. Hong Chen has never forgotten the weight loss and coldness of the years.

For the rest of my life, I just want to sit quietly in front of the window of time, listen to the whisper of the wind under the window, look at the blooming flowers in the garden outside the window, and let the lovesickness roll with Shu Yun in the sky. Now that you have let go, don’t leave those things.
Chapter completed!