Autumn Song

One afternoon many years ago, I sat lazily on a bench in Urumqi West Park. My eyes are pure and blurred, and my thoughts are scattered and quiet. I didn’t drink alcohol, but I felt a little graceful and drunk. I think this may be caused by the environment. At this moment, I am sitting in the tranquil late autumn, in the most beautiful park in the border city, feeling the breath of life in autumn and autumn. In this way, this is not only a kind of leisure and pleasure, but also a kind of intoxication. In the embrace of autumn, I am as weak as a born baby. Some kind of purity and reverie of mine are associated with this wonderful autumn blood. I have visited the West Park many times, either friends or classmates. But I prefer to walk or sit alone in the park, feeling the cycle of seasons and the passing of time, and quietly thinking about some boundless worries. Just like now, I am sitting alone on the bench in the West Park. In fact, I am a lonely and independent traveller. This city is far away from my hometown and my relatives. I live and walk through the streets and alleys of the border city. I am more like a ghost Lone Ranger. I think there is nothing wrong with this. A wandering man who is far away from his hometown and relatives, his heart is always flowing. In front of my eyes is Jianhu, which is round and bright, like a huge flat mirror. However, many benches around Jianhu Lake were empty, seemingly waiting for the arrival of the Master in silence. On other benches, there are sweet lovers leaning against each other or old men with white hair fluttering. In any case, the afternoon of the West Park was quiet, with only some silent or whispering visitors. This atmosphere is very good. In this atmosphere, I can quietly feel the autumn, think about some irrelevant past events, or simply close my eyes slightly, fully experience the meaning of autumn sunshine pouring on your face. Maybe it was just because of the tranquility that I heard the crisp chirping of birds, and I even heard the slight noise of fallen leaves falling down from the tall drinkwood tree. A piece of dead leaves and a piece of dead leaves slided down from the tree unhurriedly and fell around the bench. I bent down, picked up a dead leaf with clear lines and enjoyed the quiet beauty of fallen leaves. Everything happened in autumn makes people sigh with emotion. Just like this golden and beautiful dead leaf in my hand, is it a tall, slender and silent sigh? I don’t know. What I can know is that I am going deep into autumn and reaching its core, staying there for a while, then floating away silently. I am very familiar with the West Park. Although the West Park is not a famous park, in many domestic cities, Such small and exquisite parks can be seen everywhere. However, it attracts my longing steps with infinite charm. Flowers in spring, green trees in summer, fallen leaves dancing in autumn and glittering snow in winter all make me fascinated. What else? And this unknown Park. Stay in the distant West. Looking up, the sky is high and the clouds are light, the clouds are rolling and the clouds are comfortable, which always makes people get a kind of relieved and beautiful spiritual experience at the moment of looking up. In this way, what I really like is the quiet and elegant atmosphere of the West Park. In fact, there are two buildings in the West Park that deserve careful taste. For example, the Jianhu Lake in front of us is not as gorgeous as the West Lake and the vast Taihu Lake, but because of its little historical deposits, it makes people forget to leave. Lin Zexu, Mao Zedong, Zhou Enlai and so on had all been to this lake, but they didn’t have such leisure feelings, instead, they just sat by the lake and washed all the way. It is said that the nickname of Jianhu was created by Ji Xiaolan, a Romantic scholar in Qing Dynasty, but he was not a sightseeing tour, otherwise the book notes of Yuewei thatched cottage, which had passed away from the world, would not be born under the pen of Ji Gong as a. Sitting alone on the bank of the lake, in the quiet and silent boundless autumn, the blurred thoughts are like the smoke clouds of history. On the south side of West Park is the famous monument of revolutionary martyrs in the three districts. The monument is made of white marble, which is very high and seems to be directly inserted into the sky. In the early days of liberation, leaders of the three districts, invited by Mao Zedong and Zhou Enlai, went to Beijing by plane to attend the first National Political Consultative Conference. There was an air crash on the way, I think this monument is built here with ingenuity, which not only makes the heroes stay here forever, but also makes tourists experience the hard-won of freedom, peace and quiet life. At this moment, sitting on the bench by the Bank of Jianhu, I looked over the verdant which was taking off the green clothes and clearly saw the monument standing under the blue sky and white clouds. I spent the whole afternoon on the bench in the West Park. I thought a lot and felt much calmer. I am more like a true thinker, wandering in the hometown of autumn, seeing the past as smoke, and gradually seeing myself. I avoided the noisy world of mortals, let my tired body rest for a moment, and let my impetuous soul bathe in the tranquil autumn sun. I think it is really a wonderful enjoyment for a person to lean against the door of autumn when he is tired of walking and step in without hesitation, recalling or forgetting something in the embrace of autumn. When the warm twilight flooded me, I slowly got up and left the West Park, walking back to the depths of the world of mortals step by step. But I have no reason to forget the time I spent in the West Park carelessly on that autumn afternoon in the border town many years ago. In the misty and rainy south of the Yangtze River, many autum cannot reach the depth of my heart. The South is full of green grass and trees all year round. Just like now, I have passed the threshold of October, and the breath of Autumn seems to be far away. Therefore, I miss the autumn of the border city very much. I think the beautiful and golden dead leaf I grasped has already become a boat of dreams, carrying my graceful feelings, arrive in autumn with profound artistic conception. (The full text is about 1780 words) Like (prose editor: Rain dancing alone) change the way to continue to stay with this city I went out at 6 o’clock in the morning and came back at almost 8 o’clock in the evening. 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