Gather the waves of life in the cup, appreciate the flowers blooming and falling without distractions, and accept the fate of the arrangement or plain, or worrying at a loss. Write your favorite small characters, play with dying flowers and plants, even at the corners of the years, they are all beautiful between the lips and teeth, which is the most tranquil artistic conception.

Life is nothing more than seeking truth in the ordinary, and there are treasures, thoughts, and eyes along the way, and such warmth is enough to enrich life. Those old times that occasionally cross my mind let the time be silent, and there is no need to paint it with color.

Walking in the red dust of Zimo, I am used to keeping warm with words, the words in the book are fragrant, and the words are full of affection. Through words, he pours love into time, and the fleeting past depicts the vast sky in the shallow years. The years have polished life unbearable, the mottled ink has blocked time on the yellowed paper, and prosperity is just a lonely character in the past.

I remember reading a passage that gave me an old time, sitting alone under a mossy wooden window, making a pot of tea. Don't care, when will the swallows return home. Don't ask, where will that little boat be exiled to the end of the world. Don't think about how many years have passed to be true or false. If I can, I just want to be a plum blossom that has been left behind, guarding the lonely years, and watching the sunset with a certain returnee at the old ferry. In fact, what we are waiting for is not only the years, but the heavy memories of the years.

Sitting in front of the window, the cool breeze hits, and the cold reaches the deep corner of the heart. It's hard to hide the gloom, mottled hearts, fallen leaves, and the loneliness of autumn.

Life, the twilight is sad, just for Yan Shan.

Days, on the shore of the fine lake, just for happiness.

Although time has swept away the hurried years, as far as the passing years have taken away the splendor, and the prosperity has fallen, why be afraid of sadness. Not sad or happy, not impetuous, calm and calm, casual, and at ease with what happens, is the best explanation of life.

In the story of time, there is a trace of hidden thoughts, I am just used to being silent, holding the pen and wandering in the fragrance of ink, so that the faint joy and sorrow in my heart, the bright and fragrant words, and the ink on the paper, whether sad or happy, are the mood.

The days become full and full overnight, and I can't predict the future, but I can live the present. Following a wisp of the fragrance of the years, the years are mottled with true love poetry.

Time always slips away unconsciously, and in life, some people are coming, and some people are far away. Come to think of it, the change of seasons, just like people always have to grow and experience, it is just a process, there is no need to be sad in spring and autumn, and there is no need to sigh about ill-fated life, live quietly, and walk lightly.

I can't count the goodbyes of time, but when I calm down, there is still a trace of melancholy in my heart. Looking out the window at the once turquoise leaves becoming more and more mature and colorful, I knew that autumn was here and the Mid-Autumn Festival was approaching.

I don't think I'm a sentimental person, but I don't know when I started, I became more and more sensitive to time, every time I saw the sunrise and sunset, the leaves were green and yellow, I looked at the faint moonlight, listened to the gurgling water, looked at the sky, and always felt emotional.

The time that disappeared left no trace, like the wind and clouds, and one turned around and left quietly. Looking back, I was very satisfied with my life and satisfied. What can you do if you are not satisfied, but what else can you give except to increase your sorrow? Let those sorrows hidden in the corners turn into wind and rain clouds, and be delicately melted into the brilliance of life.

In the subtraction of life, I counted how many yesterdays I said goodbye to. The scenery of the passing years, the wind and frost of the former face, looking back at the corridor of time, listening to the cycle of life.

Take a trip to the wind and clouds, and look at the wind and dust; Hold a handful of water and moon in your hand, and your heart is like stopping water; The fragrance of the flowers of the years is full of clothes, and time passes; Twist a touch of glazed plain heart, and watch the most beautiful sunset and sunset. A period of past, a wisp of fragrance, a shallow time, a touch of sunshine warms a season. The ups and downs of life, quiet and calm, the turbulent years are not shocked, pick up the elegance of time, cut a period of calm like water to seal the memory, the years of leaving traces, is a person's life.

In September, the shallow autumn is beautiful, except for sorrow, go with your heart, and be at peace with your encounter. In this harvest season, let us let go of our sorrows and have more sunshine; Let go of the gloom and have more joys and sorrows.

In September, like a dream, like smoke drifting away, everything is going with the wind.