Sweet September (prose) translated by Zhang Baotong

The height of summer is over, and the beginning of autumn has arrived.

September is not only a month, but also a season of brilliant achievements. It came with the departure of August, and with the arrival of October, along the way, laughter and contentment. The years have experienced the heat and restlessness of summer, and gradually calmed down. September begins to gather strength for another summer with its characteristic melody and rhythm.

In September, with the charm of autumn, it walked slowly from the dawn mist, and quietly left from the blazing afternoon. It brushes the treetops, dyes the leaves red, rides the fine down of the thistle flowers, crosses the canyon, and floats away. Sometimes it stops at the top of the mountain, like an owl in the evening of October, cooing, sometimes playing with the wind, playing hide and seek. It is unpredictable and unpredictable, like a squirrel on a hickory nut when it is busy, and like a lazy stream when it is leisure, taking advantage of the abundance and maturity of summer.

September is the golden time of the year, with cool and comfortable temperatures, full of life, crisp skies, cloudless skies, gentle breezes and clean dust. The pasture smells of hay and the smell of mowing. Although the flowers in September are not as diverse as those in May, they are diverse and gorgeous, making September another flowering season. Golden chrysanthemums bloom at the end of summer and bloom in early autumn. The late-blooming thistle flowers are purple and red, blooming all over the grassland, covering the mountain tops, and even all over the glades between the cities, at first plain white, gradually light purple, until deep purple red.

It's the season when the gossamer floats. The dawn shimmered with the glimmer of spider silk, and the young spiders showed extraordinary talent for trekking. They follow the gossamer, towards the North Pole, and almost reach Mount Everest. Soon, the pods of the tendon beans cracked, and the white velvet and silver threads were fluttering and sprinkling.

In the harvest month, the sky is clear, the night is bright, the moon is in the sky, and there are no clouds. Yue'er comes early and returns late, and never leaves all night. The hard-working farmer, after dinner, returned to the field and continued the harvest by the light of the moon. At this time, although the harvest has not stopped, the focus of the work has shifted from the barn to the kitchen. The final harvest comes from the vegetable garden, late-ripening sweet corn, tomatoes and roots. Canning, pickling, freezing, the process is so varied that it is extremely busy.

At night, the moon and stars are scarce, the sky is clear and cool, the silver frost is falling, such as silk, delicate and silent, gently brushing on a corner of the mountainside vegetable garden. The day dawns, the footprints are still there, the leaves are shining, the trunks are shining, and the silk vines are glowing with black light.

After a night or two, Silver Frost came to the canyon in the moonlight, and then returned to the North Mountain, where he rested for a while. So, in early autumn, the earth enjoyed the kiss of golden light. The mellow fragrance of chrysanthemum, the fragrance of fennel ripples in the air, the mist is shrouded, the sun is shining, and through the blue of autumn, shining with golden light.

On the night of early autumn, the moon is bright and clear, and the hot-blooded animals are abnormally active. Cold-blooded insects have lost their rays of sunlight and are in constant fear. Knowing the silence, the crickets were sad, and the weaver no longer sang. Even if they were to shout in unison, the sound would be like a broken bow slowly pulling the strings.

During the storage season, the house mice have a good harvest, and for several weeks, they are busy hoarding fruits for winter. The golden chipmunks stuff the wintering houses, and the squirrels collect the nuts and alfalfa, turning the harvest into thick fat for storage.

Golden-winged woodpeckers begin to migrate in flocks. Throughout the summer, these larger birds are left alone, busy with their homes and never socializing. Now, they are looking for relatives and friends, talking about family life, and rejoicing together. The warbler and swallow gather and prepare to migrate. Soon, the robins will also converge and move south. By then, the nest has been settled, and the young birds are beginning to stand on their own, with plenty of food and shelter. September is also the golden holiday for birds. But who knows how their travel was agreed?

At the end of September, the autumn treasure is full of treasures, and the wealth is like a mountain. In the quiet afternoon, the sky is golden and shining, and at dusk and twilight, red clouds are burning the sky like flames. In the forest, on the side of the road, in the courtyard, there are wonders and magnificent scenery everywhere, so that the emperor can not dream of it.

Under the sun, September calmly finished its journey. Nature is beginning to make its way into winter. The trees fade, the leaves wither, and a thick blanket spreads on the ground, turning into fertile soil to nourish the rhizomes and young seeds. The impulse to grow has stopped, waiting for the coming year, but life has been hidden in the seed, and it has ceased forever.