I like two lines of poetry: "A mountain monk doesn't know how to count Jiazi, and a leaf falls to know the world's autumn." The monks on the mountain don't know how to count Jiazi. They just observe nature, and when a leaf falls, they know it is autumn.

Modern urbanites are just the opposite. It can be said that "the sky is full of fallen leaves and does not know the autumn, and the world only counts Jiazi". For modern people, time is the calendar, and sometimes the calendar is not enough to describe, only the clock is left.

The city is not without autumn. When we calm down, we will know that the wind that originally blew from the southeast has now turned to the north; the rising sun and sunset are very different from those in summer. The biggest change is the sky and the clouds. In the bright summer sky, the blue tone gradually deepens. The clouds are higher and whiter, and they seem to have a slight wind when they flutter. This is the real autumn, the idyllic autumn in childhood memories, and the autumn of fallen leaves that the monks of the Tang Dynasty saw on the mountain.

If you can breathe with fallen leaves and flying flowers, you can keep your humility in nature, even if you live in the busiest city, autumn will not be far away. If you only have watches, money, and work in your eyes, even if you are hit by fallen leaves on the road, you will not see the beauty of autumn.

The beauty of autumn is somewhat depressing, just like a poem written by Wu Wenying from the Song Dynasty, "Where to combine sorrow, leave people's hearts in autumn", most people think that the mood in autumn will be a little sad and chilling. In fact, autumn is the season of maturity, why is there no clear and complete revelation?

I also like a poem written by Wei Yingwu about autumn: "It's cold in the county today, and I suddenly read the guest in the mountains. I gather the thorns at the bottom of the stream, and I come back to cook the white stone. I want to hold a scoop of wine to comfort the wind and rain from afar. The mountains are full of fallen leaves, where can I find them? track?"

In this turbulent world, in such a beautiful and clear season as autumn, how difficult it is to find the footprints of friends in the fallen leaves of the empty mountains.

But, isn't it more difficult to find your own footprint on the red brick road, among the crowds of people and cars?

I like two lines of poetry: "A mountain monk doesn't know how to count Jiazi, and a leaf falls to know the world's autumn." The monks on the mountain don't know how to count Jiazi. They just observe nature, and when a leaf falls, they know it is autumn.

Modern urbanites are just the opposite. It can be said that "the sky is full of fallen leaves and does not know the autumn, and the world only counts Jiazi". For modern people, time is the calendar, and sometimes the calendar is not enough to describe, only the clock is left.

The city is not without autumn. When we calm down, we will know that the wind that originally blew from the southeast has now turned to the north; the rising sun and sunset are very different from those in summer. The biggest change is the sky and the clouds. In the bright summer sky, the blue tone gradually deepens. The clouds are higher and whiter, and they seem to have a slight wind when they flutter. This is the real autumn, the idyllic autumn in childhood memories, and the autumn of fallen leaves that the monks of the Tang Dynasty saw on the mountain.

If you can breathe with fallen leaves and flying flowers, you can keep your humility in nature, even if you live in the busiest city, autumn will not be far away. If you only have watches, money, and work in your eyes, even if you are hit by fallen leaves on the road, you will not see the beauty of autumn.

The beauty of autumn is somewhat depressing, just like a poem written by Wu Wenying from the Song Dynasty, "Where to combine sorrow, leave people's hearts in autumn", most people think that the mood in autumn will be a little sad and chilling. In fact, autumn is the season of maturity, why is there no clear and complete revelation?

I also like a poem written by Wei Yingwu about autumn: "It's cold in the county today, and I suddenly read the guest in the mountains. I gather the thorns at the bottom of the stream, and I come back to cook the white stone. I want to hold a scoop of wine to comfort the wind and rain from afar. The mountains are full of fallen leaves, where can I find them? track?"

In this turbulent world, in such a beautiful and clear season as autumn, how difficult it is to find the footprints of friends in the fallen leaves of the empty mountains.

But, isn't it more difficult to find your own footprint on the red brick road, among the crowds of people and cars?