Excellent essay on autumn gloom 600 words

Autumn is a season that I really like. I feel that to write about autumn is to write about its colors, its silence, and its harvest. Wait.

In autumn, there are golden fallen leaves all over the ground, there is the autumn wind blowing on people's faces, and the refreshing fragrance of melons and fruits. But all this makes me faintly feel the loneliness and indifference.

The sunset of that day emitted a blood-like afterglow. Vehicles on the road were moving rapidly, bringing up fallen leaves on the ground. The people on the roadside also looked from place to place, and refused to give the old man a little sympathetic gaze.

And the sixty-year-old man in front of me, wrinkles took over his face, and on the top of his head, there were still a few sparse gray hairs. He was in front of the trash can, rummaging through something. He also carried an old sack with a few bottles and jars.

On such a street, an old man is not at home to enjoy his old age. But they have to run around for a meal that is not very tasty. The old man faltered, apparently exhausted by the vicissitudes of the years.

When I got home, I saw on TV the call for respect for the old and love for the young. Thinking about it a lot, the old man is like autumn, he has already passed the most glorious era, and he has paid the most blood. Youth.

They are tired and want to enjoy the rest of their old age. But at this time, they look like an incompetent person in the eyes of others. They are despised and despised.

I had no choice but to use my thin body to run around.

The traditional virtues of China have been abandoned by our people. But it was picked up by foreigners like a treasure! How did I touch this, I thought about it for a long time, and I understood that it was the human heart that was causing trouble.

With the development of society, the competition is fierce, and the drive of interests ......This virtue is gradually forgotten. What a bleak season autumn is, if you add the loss of respecting the old and loving the young. How cold will it be this autumn!

Autumn! Don't let the loss of this virtue become more gloomy.

The sentence describing the bleakness and desolation of autumn is as follows:

1. The long path spreads in the silent leaves, the autumn wind rolls the slightly reddish maple leaves gently falling among the trees, different tracks, but there is the same fate, the strings of life are played by themselves, and the playing of each note will take a lifetime to play, leisurely steps across the country roads, suddenly looking back, not seeing the footprints that have been, the wind is caressing, and the figure is far away....

2, the ancients have exhausted the rhythm of autumn thoughts with a new song, and the maple leaves have nowhere to render the melancholy of parting.

3. I like autumn, not because of the harvest of autumn, but because of the desolation of Qiukai Huaiheng.

4. When the leaves fall alone: it not only resigns from the twigs, but also resigns from the heat of summer, which is a passion; I quit a life, and it was a passion. It was lonely ......There is nothing to snuggle up to, nothing to tie ......A heart drifts in the wind, and finally falls silent and perishes.

Autumn is slightly cool. Next to the rocks, grass and trees, a few elegant chrysanthemums bloom slowly in the autumn sun. This season, there is a little more color of autumn maple in the vision, a few wisps of cinnamon fragrance are added to the sense of smell, the tip of the pen reveals a bit of the elegance of wild chrysanthemum, and the gaze is full of a bit of unconcealable love.

The breeze passed by, and the boundless leaves fell down, causing some feelings and a little sadness.

Maybe it's because of temperament, although it doesn't often hurt the autumn and sad moon, but an inadvertent scene is also hail or a friend's words, which will always make the mind go back and forth in a thousand turns, freeze in a regretful place, and stay in an unwilling place. Thus, through the flood of emotions, a lot of lyricism is bred in the text. I can't tell why, I can't understand why.

Just follow the veins of the past, add some embellishments to a string of heart words, and embellish them between the pen and paper, even if there is no starlight twinkling, and there is no lack of moon with the fullness. But you can also get a moment of tranquility, and you can bury the old dream of elegance in the words.

Maybe autumn has a little more withered rhyme, and the rhetoric of this season seems a little boring. Once said that it was good, it was not contaminated with sadness, but the autumn rain was cool, so cold that the bone cave was round, and the fallen leaves also carried the whispers of the past and poured out in their ears. Those who have passed away, the people who have been missed, and the moonlight that accompanies the autumn night, are scattered into broken shadows.

The line is repeated, this is autumn, I don't ask about the meeting, I just want to know the situation, and I send my mood with words.

In my spare time, I always think of the days when I traveled east and west, and traveled north and south. Unconsciously, I suddenly wanted to go back to the distant past, a person's journey, a person's walk. Carrying a bag, a few books, and a cloth and vegetarian travel, I made a short stop in a certain city.

Then, there will be some lengthy stories that fill my crooked words, some sad, some joyful, some parting, some encountering ......Even if you can't see through the scenery of the road after turning around, you can still get a sense of relief while walking.

However, time has passed. When the night behind the light and clouds came, a page of life was ruthlessly torn off, and the ensuing dust settled, rolling up the trivialities of life.

Sometimes, with old dreams, I watched the figures disperse'The scene, the lonely shadow, has created a bleak scenery under the remnant sun in autumn. Even if the wind steals and blows through the memory corridor, it can't take away the love that breeds this season.

Passing the threshold of the three seasons, when a fallen leaf crosses a point on the tip of the eyebrow, the rain of the season sends away the trip of September. Even if you are reluctant to give up the prosperity behind you at this moment, it is just superfluous. The journey of life is short and long.

The novice brought the murmur of the geese flying in October, and the reeds by the river had long been white, only drifting with the autumn wind. The clear blue sky carries a few wandering clouds, crossing the gaps in memory, hanging a wisp of thoughts on the fallen leaves that go with the wind, tactful and affectionate.

The wind is sluggish, the pipa is silent, and the sorrow is already there. did not meet the fallen people who are also at the end of the world, only a single round of the sun, a bend of the moon and a bend of the moon, drinking and whispering in the years of maple leaves. Drink a cup of tea from strong to light, and play quietly with time.

In the eyes of more people, spring is full of flowers, summer is full of green trees, autumn is full of fruits, and winter is snowflakes. All year round is beautiful. But for me, except for autumn, I am full of longing and yearning for every season.

Because I think that although autumn is high and cool, the autumn wind is bleak; Although fruitful, the golden wind is cool; Although the autumn colors are pleasant, after all, the autumn breeze is bleak. Perhaps, the peasant uncles love this season; Love this bleakness; I prefer this kind of sluggish counting over and over again a few small and decent renminbi coins that I have earned with my industrious sweat. And I fantasize about bleak poetry in this bleak environment.

Warring States Chu Song Yu wrote in "Nine Arguments": "Sad, autumn is angry! The bleak grass and trees are shaking and decaying, and if you are traveling far away, you will return when you climb the mountain and face the water. There is also Han Liu Che's "Autumn Wind Speech", "The autumn wind rises and the white clouds fly, the grass and trees are yellow and the geese return to the south."

Why did these great poets write about this bleak feeling in the autumn? There is only one answer, and they, like me, think that autumn is a bleak season. I don't know when I was amazed to find that the autumn sunset was as red as the face of a drunken little girl, and the golden rice paddies in the fields were like a golden ocean, silently waiting for the farmer's harvest in the autumn wind.

The lawn is no longer as green as in summer, as if dyed a transparent golden yellow, and in the sunlight, it looks like a warm blanket, making people want to sit down. In the park, the maple leaves rustle in the wind, as if whispering, and when the autumn wind blows, the yellow leaves fall one after another, and this bleak and swift autumn adds a touch of vitality, which is the evidence of the arrival of autumn. Autumn, the autumn breeze is bleak, what a bleak season.