Beijing , After autumn, there is always a drizzle . At noon , It's getting brighter , The air is fresh , The window is golden and ochre green , It's like walking into a colorful gallery .
Walking in the woods , The leaves are no longer green in summer , This corner , That point , It's like hiding a lot of stories , But I want to say it's not .
In the chilly wind , Little flowers , The shy flower bud is crystal clear .
The most common is these red fruits , Hidden among the branches and leaves , More unrestrained than flowers , It's like a small cup of fragrant liquor , Intoxicating .
I don't know what kind of tree , The branches are soaked in rain , Give birth to little mushrooms , Layer cascade folds , It's like a shell on the sea floor .