Zong Pu's 700-word prose. It is urgent.

Autumn scenery in Beijing, the first thing that comes to mind is always the red leaves of Xiangshan. I remember that the mountains were in full swing at that time, and in the sun, red seemed to beat like a flame. Two or three friends, riding Xiao Lv's laughter and hoofbeat, walked through the mountains along the winding path. The richness and tranquility of autumn blend evenly and penetrate into every pore. Later, there were no donkeys, and the road was much smoother. We could walk happily all the way halfway up the mountain. If you walk on the edge of Shuangqing and cross a mountain road, you will see a large golden yellow in front of you. Those were big trees, but now that I think about it, they are also ginkgo. The thick leaves of the tree are all yellow, scattered from the treetops to the ground, so wet and yellow, as if the autumn harvest were gathered there. It makes people feel that this is the tone of autumn.

If you go to Xiangshan this autumn, everyone will go to Xiangshan. The road is full of cars and pedestrians, just like a movie is over or a large-scale representative meeting is to be held. Had to divert to Wanan Mountain, looking for autumn. There is a yellow coggygria at the foot of the mountain, which is not very dense. On both sides of the stone steps in front of fahai temple site, there are two dark red ones, which are also very sparse. There are relics of Shunzhi period on the ruins, engraved with the words "no logging, no grazing". In the messy grass, broken stones lie on the horizon, branches die, revealing a gray-blue sky and a less bright sun. This seems to have a bleak autumn breath. However, this is not the charm of autumn I am looking for.

Some people say that we should go to Yuanmingyuan, a forest in the northwest of Xiyanglou, which is probably dyed into two rich colors: red and yellow. But for me, it's too extravagant to keep looking for autumn. I can't spend this time until next year. The family said: There will be more people in the coming year, and your cycling skills will be poor. There is still no reason to look for it. Then stay in the afterlife, I said, and everyone laughed.

Actually, I care about the world. Walking as usual in the morning is for health, and there is nothing romantic about it. On this day, autumn is deep, covered with oblique wind and drizzle, I walked to the next small lake in Linhuxuan as usual. Suddenly I feel that the scenery is wonderful, as if I have never been here.

There is a hill to the south of the small lake, and there is a row of tall ginkgo trees between the hill and the lake. I haven't seen it for a few days, but it has turned into a golden barrier, covering the mountains and reflecting the water. Fan-shaped leaves fell to the ground, covering the path around the lake. It seems that this golden barrier permeates around and expands infinitely. Walking on the road, the east side of the lake is bright red and jumps into your eyes. Such dazzling red leaves! Not cotinus coggygria, the red color is darker; Not maple leaves, maple leaves are darker in red. This red leaf is raining and looks bright from a distance. When it is close, it is a symmetrical long leaf, and there are many leaves underground, which has become a thin layer of red carpet. Between that small piece of bright red and the high golden barrier, there are different shades of green and different shades of brown and other rich colors, embracing the clear autumn water. A few drops of cold autumn rain add a bit of gloom to the whole scenery. It seems that there are other hidden things besides everything in sight.

Is this the autumn rhyme I am looking for? Autumn is a fruitful life, gorgeous and solemn, like hazy and clear, full of great enlightenment.

Autumn came and winter came, and I accidentally received an obituary that a philosophical friend of my father had passed away. There is only one poem in the obituary except the date of birth and death. The translation is like this:

Don't betray your friendship,

Don't delay the fun,

I don't understand now,

Will always be confused,

Here,

Everything is settled.

The autumn rhyme I am looking for is now, here, in my heart.

& lt& lt Wisteria Falls >>

I can't help but stop.

I have never seen such a blooming vine, only a brilliant lavender hanging in the air like a waterfall, with no beginning and no end. Just a deep and shallow purple, as if flowing, laughing and growing. On the bèng purple flag, there is a little silver light, just like a splash. A closer look shows that the brightest part of every purple flower at that time was flirting with the sun.

Spring has faded here, and there are no people enjoying flowers and no butterflies around bees. Some are sparkling and blooming vines on this tree. Flowers are next to flowers, one after another, pushing each other around, so lively!

"I have blossomed!" They are laughing.

"I have blossomed!" They shouted.

Every ear of flowers blooms above and waits for release below. The color is light and dark, as if purple has settled down and settled in the tenderest and smallest bud. Every blooming flower is like a full sail, under which is a pointed bottom and a bulging cabin; Like a smile that can't help laughing, it is about to bloom. What kind of qióng pulp do you have? I leaned over and picked one.

But I didn't pick it. I have no habit of picking flowers. I just stood and stared, feeling that this wisteria waterfall was not only in front of my eyes, but also flowing slowly in my heart. Flowing, taking away the anxiety and sadness that have been pressing on my heart these years. This is a secret about life and death and brotherhood. I am immersed in the brilliance of this dense flower, and there is nothing else for the time being, only spiritual peace and joy of life.

In addition to the brilliance here, there is also a faint fragrance. The fragrance seems to be light purple, and it covers me gently like a dream. It suddenly occurred to me that there was a big wisteria outside my house more than ten years ago. It climbs high beside a dead locust tree, but the flowers are never sparse. A bunch of musicians are líng the treetops of things, as if trying something. Later, even the sparse flower clusters disappeared. Other wisteria frames in the garden were also pulled down and fruit trees were planted. At that time, it was said that there was an inevitable relationship between flowers and life corruption. I once thought regretfully: I will never see the vines here again.

After so many years, the vines have blossomed again, and they are so full and dense. The purple waterfalls cover the dense branches of Wolong, and they keep flowing, flowing and flowing to people's hearts.

Flowers and people will encounter all kinds of misfortunes, but the long river of life is endless. I touched the little purple flower hut, which was filled with the wine of life. It is full of sails, sailing on the river full of flowers. It is a flower among thousands of flowers, and it is also a flower that forms a beautiful flowing waterfall.

In this faint purple light and faint purple fragrance, I unconsciously accelerated my pace.

& lt& lt What a hibiscus flower >>

This is another year in Qiu Lai. The white jade is cool, and the ice and snow news comes out first. Canna also opened at this time. Red and yellow flowers stand on the broad green leaves and don't care about the chill of autumn. I used to say that canna was ugly, but now I really want to take it back. Then crape myrtle and hibiscus. In my small garden dominated by grass, they are outsiders. Accidental branches, accidentally inserted into the soil, they grow up by accident. Ziwei seems a little delicate and has never seen flowers. Hibiscus bloomed twice.

Furong used to give me the impression of mediocrity. Many flowers and trees were destroyed during the Cultural Revolution, but they lost all their lives, accompanying Xanthoceras sorbifolia Bunge, which was once famous, to prevent it from being too lonely. It is said that the reason is that its flowers are edible, which is probably more delicious than the bark of grass roots. On the road next to the students' bathroom, two rows of trees stand upright, with purple, red and white flowers, which I have never seen carefully.

In the past two years, the hibiscus in this small garden has blossomed twice, which is extraordinary.

The year before last autumn, my family had just recovered from the grief of death, and they were faced with the confusion of young people's lives. We don't know what will happen next minute. We are in extreme fear. When I am fidgeting, I have to walk in the grass garden. At that time, the grass in the garden was knee-deep Apart from our basic team, dear Hosta, there are only two honeysuckle trees with small red fruits hanging on clusters of agate buttons. I don't expect to see other colors.

Suddenly, among the green grass, a little purple flashed, bright and gentle, and turned several times. I hurried across the grass and saw a purple flower blooming on a low green branch.

This is hibiscus. The hibiscus blooms, and it is purple.

Of the three colors of hibiscus, purple is the best. That red color is extremely incorrect, as if the paint had not been adjusted properly; An old friend with white flowers and a hairpin are enough. What I want to see most is purple, which echoes with February orchids in early spring and vines in early summer. Let the purple fantasy fill the small garden, let the wind blow away the sadness and keep the dream.

To my surprise, I carefully removed the weeds around it, made a shallow pit and poured water on it. The water soon seeped down. After a gust of wind, green waves rippled on the grass, and delicate purple flowers as thin as cicadas tilted their heads in the green waves, which was a little naughty, but they didn't know they looked strange.

After four or five full moons last year, the looted small garden suffered again. There is a small building next to the garden, which is used to build a useful building. Mud, bricks, steel bars and battens are piled up in the garden, like a messy hill, with all the plants under it. I am used to this scene, knowing that after it is destroyed, there will always be a new beginning, although it will take a long time.

Unexpectedly, when I was walking on this rugged mountain road in Qiu Lai, I suddenly saw several green branches sticking out of bricks and steel bars. On the green branch, a purple flower is trembling!

My heart is shaking, and a tragic feeling has seized me. Most of the soil is buried, and it still blooms!

Most of the soil is buried, and it still blooms!

I crossed the obstacle and got closer to see the flower struggling under the heavy pressure. It's still that delicate petal as thin as cicada's wings, slightly wrinkled, and there seems to be a belt tied at the pedicle of the flower, but it stretches itself. It does not feel the hardship of the environment, nor does it feel its own strangeness.

Suddenly I feel that this is a flower in a fairy tale. If you hold it, any wish will come true, because what you hold is the courage to face all hardships.

Purple ribbons were scattered all over the floor, covering the messy construction site. Ran Ran stood up, leaned against the bright Xia Zi and looked down at me with a smile.

This year really has a new beginning. After the transformation, the small garden is no longer dominated by grass and has a new understanding of canna. That hibiscus flower is much taller and more lush, but after the Double Ninth Festival, there are still no flowers.

I often wander around it, looking forward to the flower that shocked me.

It doesn't come anymore.

Even if there are more flowers, it won't be the one last year. Maybe a monument is needed to commemorate the tragic past?