Autumn in Ejin Jinnah

In Ejinna, I saw the tree that often appears in my dreams; in the poplar forest, I met the most beautiful autumn in the north of the country.

The grass is not dry crystal dew, there is a trace of cold air in the early morning sunshine, the distant wind brings the autumn coolness of the outside of the country, and gently kisses the rosy face of the young girl. The beautiful girl lightly waved a bright red silk scarf in her hand, the gentle breeze whisked away a layer of mist on the treetops, the blue sky as if it had just been washed, thin soft white clouds like silk floating across the clean clear sky. The blue sky was tinted with blue autumn water, reflecting a golden yellow in the water. The morning dew on the autumn leaves had dried up in the sunlight, and the wind sent it to the visitors' eyes again.

What a beautiful autumn, what a beautiful poplar, in this distant north, in this far away from the city of the desert, in this golden autumn October, we came. The soft language of Wu-Yue in Jiangnan rang in our ears, and the Sichuan-Chongqing-Bashu dialect came in front of us, before someone said the Northeast official language of the White Mountains and Black Water, and then we heard the Guangdong-Cantonese language south of the Five Ridges, talking and shouting, waking up the lonely woods and livening up the quiet morning. In front of you is a grand fashion show: there are gentlemen in suits, long skirts, unkempt vests, charming and flamboyant sarongs, white clothes like snow, plain green dresses, but more red dresses, as if the yellow canvas poured red paint. In front of the eyes is also a big stage: some leisurely, some shuttle back and forth, some scream, some laugh like silver bells, some frowning and smiling, some deep expressions pretending to be calm, but surprisingly confirmed that the people watching the play is a playwright. Everyone is taking pictures, everyone wants to blend into this beautiful world: some graceful, like a hibiscus, some scratching their heads, deliberately showing off, some looking up at the treetops to contemplate, like a sculpture masterpiece, some drunk under the bridge reflection, simulating the classics of film and television, men and women, young and old, different ages, fat and thin, different bodies, all the hundreds of lives, all into the picture.

The water is not as clear as you think, but replicates the beauty of the shore: some of the images in the water are clear, clear branches and leaves, some are blurred, difficult to distinguish red and yellow, some are staggered in height, as if the mountain peaks stretching, some levels of contrast, as if the peacock open screen, some sparse shadows, some tall and upright, when the wind is light, drunk outside the mirror, and when the wind rises, and confused the water on earth. Surprisingly, it is: the beautiful shadow in front of the eyes, but also by the water obsessed.

The autumn breeze is a fan of the years, it fanned away the summer heat, she gave the yellow to the poplar, yellow leaves floating up in the forest, like a stamp, postal to the autumn dress. The fallen leaves on the sand, writing the story of winter, spring, summer and autumn, tell the beauty of nature. The sun shines brightly and the sky is clear. The poplar forest in front of us is like a majestic drama on the stage, interpreting the splendor of the world; the sun is a master painter, and the world has an intense golden color like oil painting.

The poplar forest in front of us is like a natural treasure house of art: it is strong and upright, like a flying dragon in the sky, it is thickly branched and can cover the sky, it is stable like a pagoda, unyielding to the wind and frost. Some of them are a single tree, standing proudly in the wind and frost, some in groups of three or five, relying on each other, some of them stand in a row, strict and neat like soldiers, some embraced into a forest, the woods are gorgeous each. The leaves are different in color: some are yellowish, yellow with white, some are yellowish, yellow with green, some are orange, yellow with orange, some are golden, yellow with red. Under the sunlight, the whole forest is sprinkled with yellow golden light, while in the shade, it is a tree of pale yellow overturned, patchy.

The tenacity of life, not because of her splendor, and will not be forgotten by the world, amazed at her beauty, more respect for her life.

Autumn poplar, is beautiful, the desert poplar, is tenacious.

In the wind and sunny autumn, poplar leaves become golden and bright, in this west wind, the world of yellow leaves, between heaven and earth a glorious, look at the glory, everywhere wonderful, how magnificent and dazzling picture.

In this vast desert where life is rare, the poplar tree is covered with the stars and moon, the night frost and morning dew, and the barren yellow sand. There are no spring butterflies, no summer frogs, occasional autumn geese, or winter snow, and no one brings the flowers into its world, so it can only listen to the whispers of the sand grains in the quiet night. There is no rain in the south of the Yangtze River, no fertile soil between the white mountains and the black water, no old farmers fertilizing in the fields, no ditches and water networks, only barrenness and desolation, here is a thousand miles of bare land, extremely cold and arid land. With the desire for life, unyielding and persistent pursuit, it is resistant to loneliness and poverty, just a ray of sunlight, half a bay of turbid water, a few drops of autumn dew, several winter snow, in front of our eyes above the desert, poplar trees here stubbornly growing .......

We went all the way from the poplar forest in Ejinna.

The reed is pale, the white dew is frost. There is a Yijin, on the water side. The poplar tree of the second bridge has such as a lady of the house, beautiful and beautiful, and such as a small family, charming.

There is a beautiful woman in the north, the world and independent. A look at the city, and then look at the country. The poplar trees of the four bridges are atmospheric and dignified, graceful, elegant and unpretentious, reserved and not meticulous.

It is a very good idea to have a look at it. The seven bridges of poplar trees stand in front of, slender and graceful subsequently, meek and quietly standing at the roadside, elegant and noble deep in the distance.

It is difficult to describe the shock of the heart, the lens does not exhaust the eyes of the show.

Walking across the seven bridges, walking across the red willow bushes, walking across the Juyanze, walking to the eight bridges, there are beautiful lines, rolling Badan Girling Desert. Standing on the top of the dunes, looking back, the sunset dyed the distant poplar forest, the twilight has risen, poplar forest gradually become blurred .......

Three thousand years of watchfulness, just waiting for your arrival. The stunning sight, intoxicated the whole world, from the depths of memory, can no longer linger that autumn yellow.