Xiaoxiao under the wind and rain

Chapter 27 (Peach's Yaoyao)
I have a favorite city, where the summer looks the way I like.

The arrival of autumn is not only the autumn itself, but more impressive is the charming style brewed by the character of the years in the natural things.The weather is much cooler, with the appearance of autumn, although nature is dotted with bright colors everywhere, but the prosperity of the past is gone.

Half of autumn flowers bloom in time and space, and half wither in season.The feeling of autumn seems to be able to touch the face of the vicissitudes of life, but only feel a lonely helplessness.

The days go by like flowing water, when a flower begins to wither, when a leaf begins to fall, we should know that this midsummer time is about to pass away, and the prosperity of summer will gradually become desolate.Sitting quietly in the still hot wind, the mottled sunlight is scattered among the gaps of the leaves, and the strands are all the vicissitudes of the years.

The joys and sorrows of fleeting years are all forgotten in the depths of summer, slowly drifting away with the wind, and which remain in the depths of memory, are still the feelings that have been infected by time, and the innocence remains the same.

In August, the fire slowly recedes, the hidden meaning is flowing in the wind and rain, and the seasons are about to change. The wind blows and the Buddha dissipates, slowly smudges, gradually transforms, and dissolves in time.And suddenly looking back, whether it is kind or lonely, all the experiences are about to become the past, ups and downs in the passages of time, polished by the years into a sigh.

The light images of the seasons are very impressive in the poet's footsteps, leaving behind a charming and unforgettable world.Even if you don't pass the summer flowers and enter the quiet beauty of autumn, those deep thoughts have not faded in the slightest because of the redness, as if the story of love has been continuously circulated and passed through the seasons.

Time flies, people and things are me, the time in the depths of the season, buried the prosperity of the memory, looking back, the eyes are full of reluctance.For the years, it is the relics of the years, and for the heart is solemn and distant, the seal of time will always fall on the passing moment.

Farewell to the season.

Everything is a long-awaited reunion surprise.

(End of this chapter)