Fengfeng bid farewell to Wei Zi.

The weather is very good these days. The sun slowly climbed into the sky from the depths of the hillside, instead of hiding behind thick clouds as usual, saying goodbye to the darkness and humidity of rainy days. The afternoon sun shines on people as softly as early summer, and people take off those thick clothes that belong to cold weather, and feel much more relaxed.

When I am free, I go for a walk in the mountains, hoping that the soft sunshine, fresh air and wind energy will sweep away the gloom in the sedentary house on rainy days.

Sit down in a flat place high on the hillside and look around. You can see the surrounding mountains. In the cycle of seasons, nature once again lays red and yellow in the forest.

Autumn in mountainous areas comes late, but it will come after all. Green leaves fade, maple leaves are red and yellow, and late autumn is coming. In late autumn, maple leaves show a season-specific color: crimson, light red, light yellow, cluster after cluster, mountains and forests, trees and trees.

As soon as the wind blows, some maple leaves can't stand swaying, and they begin to swirl down from the branches and forests. That's the rustling of fallen leaves.

Pieces of little red staggered down in the sun. Listen to the sound of fallen leaves. I feel beautiful and sad, and my heart hurts a little. Beautiful autumn always makes people feel pain. Who won't feel a trace of pain when seeing a fallen leaf turn from beauty to desolation?

In the face of the dyed maple leaves, there are many unspeakable or inexhaustible feelings in my heart. Do you miss the past? Or lament the changes in life? Maybe both, but maybe not all!

Those paths that meander through the forest along the mountain gradually accumulate maple leaves that have not withered. People walk on the road, stepping on the falling maple leaves, as if stepping on the fragments of time. Unconsciously, they will think of going to school in autumn when they were wearing liberation shoes and carrying canvas bags. At that time, they looked full of youth. In nostalgia, they subconsciously touched their beards. When they were young,

Since I learned to write, time and time again, year after year, whenever the maple leaves are red, I always hope to express my feelings for the maple leaves completely, but many years have passed, and my inner world has never been able to describe the beauty of the seasons displayed by the maple leaves. Maple leaves are withered and red, red and withered. When they disappear, watching the maple leaves wither season after season is often captured by those nostalgic feelings that cannot be shaken off.

I often ask myself: Why can't I get rid of nostalgia? After asking, I was at a loss. I couldn't answer, and I didn't just need to answer. The feelings about maple leaves are like a nightmare I can't solve, beautiful but hazy.

I can't get out of the nightmares and thoughts caused by falling leaves season after season. Perhaps there are too many stories and complexes hidden in the fallen leaves. The story belongs to the footprint of one's own growth, and the complex belongs to the romance built on ignorant emotions in the process of growth.

Another season of maple red, another nostalgia, another year of maple red, and a year of more people.