Autumn, frame by frame, the sun lay lazily on the ground, hiding in the reed, leaving a golden impression。The sun is short, the sun is hidden in the fundus, the wind is sobbing, the dead leaves are crying, the overture of winter。In the dazzling years, slip away, no sad years。The fine wind kneads hair, like missing whispers in my ear。In the moving light and shadow, is the silhouette of autumn。Restlessness in the shade of the green and yellow trees, in all things gradually sleeping, return to the initial peace。Years of precipitation, fermentation in autumn, giving birth to colorful life。