Too late for semi propositional essay, original preferably 600 words

Autumn is coming. The hot summer is gone, and the Autumn Maiden comes to the world with light dance steps, and she dresses the earth in a colorful costume.

Autumn came to the rice fields, and a gust of autumn wind blew, and they rose and fell, as if they were dancing to welcome the arrival of the autumn girl.

Autumn came to the orchard, and the big apples were red and bowed their heads, like shy little girls. The Grape Sisters build a crystal bridge. Golden lanterns hang on the pear trees. It's beautiful.

Autumn came to the vegetable garden, and the eggplants were like purple lanterns. Look, the cabbages that are afraid of the cold on the ground, they are hugged tightly together, like cute fat dolls.

Autumn came to the woods, and the golden leaves of the baby birds seemed to be flying down as little yellow warblers singing songs. They seem to have laid a golden carpet on the earth, and it is soft and comfortable to step on.

In autumn, the geese in the blue sky are lined up in a "one" shape for a while, and a "human" shape for a while, flying south.

Autumn is also a good season for outdoor activities, and there are many people flying kites in the park, and it is very interesting to see kites of different shapes when you look up.

I love this enchanting autumn!

What does it mean? Who knows the mystery of it, I think, no one knows.

Is Sister Fleur here? Oh no, I don't want to see her flattering smile and fat all over her body again.

Is 360 coming? Well, free is king after all.

Is QQ coming? Don't don't, don't be a warrior who is good at war.

Is it joyful? It's fine, but it's best not to bring the big wolf.

Is it a text message? Look and see, maybe not harassment.

Is winter coming? Then spring won't be too far away.

Is Snow White coming? Would you like to bring your 7 dwarfs?

Is Hemingway coming? Don't don't, because you killed the daughter of the sea.

Is it the wolf coming? I don't believe it anymore, we all had childhoods.

It's Mommy, right? yes, it's time for me to go home for dinner.

What's coming? Is Sister Fleur here unfinished? Oh no, I don't want to see her flattering smile and fat all over her body again.

Is 360 coming? Well, free is king after all.

Is QQ coming? Don't don't, don't be a warrior who is good at war.

Is it joyful? It's fine, but it's best not to bring the gray limbs back to the wolf.

Is it a text message? Look and see, maybe not harassment.

Is winter coming? Then spring won't be too far away.

Is Snow White coming? Would you like to bring your 7 dwarfs?

Is Hemingway coming? Don't don't, because you killed the daughter of the sea.

Is it the wolf coming? I don't believe it anymore, we all had childhoods. Observe hunger.

It's Mommy, right? yes, it's time for me to go home for dinner.

Childhood is beautiful, with countless starry memories, bitter and sweet.

Childhood is carefree, and every nerve is relaxed.

When mistakes are made, parents will teach them with great care.

Adulthood is tense and boring, and every nerve is tightened.

Everywhere you go, it's a constraint, and it's hard to breathe.

I think once in my childhood, I fell into the pond while playing with my brother, I was only 6 years old at the time, an uncle found out, immediately jumped into the water, rescued my dying landlubber from the water, I just came ashore, my mother took a towel and couldn't wait to help me dry it, shhhh I can still feel the warmth of love.

And now when I grow up, I am facing pressure every day, which time I fail the exam, go back and scold, maybe eat "bamboo shoot barbecue" in serious cases, and then there is water to comfort me and soothe my heartache.

Now that I'm older, I'm getting closer to my parents. In childhood, as soon as I came home, I hid in my mother's arms and was coquettish, and that feeling was like bathing in love. I feel very happy in my heart, and now I'm embarrassed to be coquettish, that sweet feeling, I will never taste it again.

In the midst of being carefree, freewheeling, and restrictive, I would certainly choose not to grow up.

I don't want to grow up, and I don't want to grow up.

It's too late to save spring.

When the branches outside the window are green, when you can listen to the beautiful insects at night, when you are full of moist and fresh breath, spring has come.

Spring is vibrant. The spring breeze ran rampantly, blowing through every inch of nature, blowing green leaves on the treetops; The spring rain dances, exudes the breath of life, and promotes the budding spring flowers. The sight of spring is so beautiful.

Spring flowers are so colorful that they scramble to bloom their beauty for a quarter of a year. Those flowers condense their love for spring in a wordless way on its bright and colorful petals. The petals are either tight or distant, surrounding the stamens, forming a spring.

Students sweat on the stadium, flip through textbooks in classrooms, and run through the hurried bell for the end of class, racing against time, unaware that spring is slowly fading.

The weather is getting hot and muggy, suggesting that spring is leaving; The little lotus shows its sharp corners, a metaphor for the departure of spring; The ceiling fan in the classroom slowly turns, turning out of the summer. Summer is coming, spring is gone.

In this way, spring passed unconsciously and peacefully.