Deep thoughts at the beginning of winter

Today, the beginning of winter, usually magpies swarms of science and technology park, suddenly came a large crow. Early in the morning against the morning wind on the roof Tian, voice low and resonant "Wow! A: wow! Ah! !" ", reminiscent of the "shut the fuck up" joke. Sure enough, the crow's mouth - open, let a person panic. To tell you that the winter of death has come, and that man will lose his freedom.

In fact, before the start of winter this year, Chifeng experienced a cold current during Frost's Descent, and then ushered in more than ten consecutive days of "Yangchun" weather. The sky was blue without a cloud or wind. On November 5 and 6, a day or two before the start of winter, daytime temperatures rise above 15 degrees. I WATCHED from the pier of the INGin River BRIDGE: THE LADYBUG THAT HAD been HIDING IN the CREvice last NIGHT, enjoying the warm sunshine in the early morning, began to creep slowly around nine o 'clock. And the brown, aphid like and twice as large as an aphid, with tiny wings hidden under their tiny shells, which swarmed the sunny pier as soon as the late autumn meadows passed. Some get together to make out, some climb a few steps to shine slender legs son, bask in the sun. Usually, the spider, who has no mind to spin a web, walks alone among the delicious food. And, of course, there are many unspeakable insects congregating there, coexisting peacefully and sharing the last warmth of the year.

Sometimes, for the full tree too late to slowly turn yellow, was frozen in the branches of the night cold, although withered but still green leaves, sent a gust of wind. You seem to be experiencing a heavy rain, thousands of leaves rustling down, painting a beautiful arc falling with the wind. But just then, the wind stopped, the sun was still warm, and the insects were still happy.

In the afternoon, I saw a spider the size of a broad bean crawling on the ground, so I leaned over to let it climb up my finger. It did rest for a while in the warmth of its fingers. I saw that the ends of its long thin legs were white and almost dead. After a while, it seemed to recover a bit of strength, then decisively rolled over and fell to the ground. I spent a lot of effort to find it in a few withered leaves, to see it toward the heart of the warmth and freedom.

It's just that everyone who can walk is leaving. Summer rain before sticking to the ground and fly swallow, pond shuttle "fish lang", as well as in the woods to sing all over the north and south of the birds, now are gone! And the fat, sallow hare, which crouched in the endless meadow of purple rugs in summer, had long since been identified by me as one of the corrupt officials of human society, who, seeing that his momentum was not good, and that he was fast on his legs and had no natural enemies, had fled abroad.

The rest is just hanging on. Through the woods under Red Mountain at night. The park suddenly disappeared in groups of magpies in here or fly or fall, deep infatuation with the foot of this land. So your heart also stirred up bursts of warmth, evoking the true feelings and love that had been. The cycle of seasons can not be deliberately manipulated by human beings. If you don't like winter, winter will come. When you look forward to spring, you think of Shelley's poem: If winter comes, can spring be far behind?