I still like to stand on the ancient city wall, listening to the murmur of the stream, admiring a group of wild geese with V-shape gently flying by. Spring is too delicate and fascinating, but autumn is just appropriate, and the autumn in my small town is exactly hit the spot.
Many say that there is no autumn in the small town. As summer goes by, the bitter winter wind blows in. Actually, it is wrong. There is always a momentary autumn in the small town for you to savor.
The autumn in the small town is vibrant but without losing the real flavor of autumn.
Walking along the ancient city wall, you will find in the corner the shiny green grass that drill out in spring had become olive green, and even a few sallow mixed with it. Then you will learn the autumn in the small town is coming. The green belt that surrounds the wall, if you look to it carefully, the leaves of the shrubs in it are still deep green, but some pieces are suffused with faint yellow, which is similar to a few drops of yellow paint that embellish among them. Sometimes there are some black spots on the yellow leaves, as moth-eaten, but interleave in them without spoiling the image, instead, show the profound flavor of autumn. Occasionally overlooking, you will see the old banyan tree still ornament the distance with dark green, as if it wants to present its own enormous vitality, which has the same implication in the ancient poetry that “An old steed crouches by trough, ambition still in a thousand miles.”
The stream in autumn manifests the flavor well. It is less rainfall in autumn; thus, the water level is lower, and some islets will be exposed, while the stream flows slowly aside. But there is no a sense of desolation, on the contrary, it is filled with vitality. The flourishing weeds grow in the islets look silvery in the sunshine, but are covered by a pastel green. Sometimes there are several egrets that fly over the stream and have a rest in islets. What a lively autumn scene!
Autumn, I mean the autumn in the small town, especially this vibrant autumn in my small town. Although there is not a flavor of bleakness in the autumn of northland, or a savor of placidity in the autumn of southland, it is the unique autumn in my heart forever. I praise you, the autumn in my small hometown!