"After the new rain in the empty mountains, the weather is late in autumn." In the evening, I walked away from the bustling city, holding an umbrella, looking for a quiet place. Encountered by the Puzhehei Lake, came to the foot of Qinglong Mountain. A layer of veil was shrouded on the hazy lake, fluttering, and fluttering like a streamer on a fairy. A flat boat returning from fishing late is fascinating and disappearing on the lake.
Walking on the embankment, the breeze is coming, raising his head to meet their touch, taking a deep breath of the fresh lake breeze, as if drinking a glass of thick wine, sweet and drunk.
The mountains nearby are covered with a veil of mystery. It seems to feel the chill of autumn, but it seems that he is unwilling to hide his stalwartness and uprightness. The nearby village was hidden between the mountains and the lake, and from time to time there were a few dog barks. Suddenly, I seemed to feel that the mountains and waters here are a pair of intimate partners who have nurtured life here for thousands of years. The husband guards this home with his majestic body, and the wife creates a happy life with her diligent hands. The children here are grateful and continue to add luster to this home through their own efforts, showing the harmony and happiness here to the outside world. The mountains are connected to the water, the water surrounds the mountains, the villages are dotted, and the mist is permeated. This hazy feeling has a kind of comfort of being in a fairyland, which is refreshing.
Suddenly, I smelled a refreshing fragrance of flowers. Ah! It turned out to be the floral scent of osmanthus, greeted the fragrance of the flowers, and arrived at the dock unknowingly. The first thing that catches your eye is a few osmanthus trees. The osmanthus trees are full of golden osmanthus flowers, like grains of green embroidered cloth. The gold on the top is like little dolls, peeling the green leaves and looking out with a smile. At this time, the wharf has long since disappeared from the crowds during the day. A few leaf boats lay quietly across the ferry, and the boatmen had already harvested their pulp. Maybe at the moment they were singing and singing, maybe chatting under the sweet-scented osmanthus tree, maybe tasting the delicacies of the mountains and seas here, after all, this is a land of fish and rice, maybe...
The rain did not stop, and it still strayed randomly. I stepped onto the pier and leaned on the building to listen to the autumn rain. The rain at this time was not as delicate and gentle as a spring rain, nor as bold and warm as a summer rain, but it was so peaceful and elegant. The mist floating on the surface of the lake began to diffuse to the surroundings, a breeze blew, and the mist mixed with the fragrance of fresh earth rushed towards the face, the meaning was condensed and elegant like poetry. I want three points of Yi'an's grace, three points of Dongpo's heroism, three points of Tao Qian's indifferent, three points of Li Bai's broad-mindedness, and three points of Nalan's mood. What a comfort, come listen to the natural rain.
Perhaps the breeze hurt Miss Yu’s delicate skin. The rain gradually became smaller. Water dripped from the eaves of the wharf pavilion, like broken beads, "tick tick..." one by one, they slammed on the bluestone slab. The slightest complaint, only endless gratitude. It is this earth that nourishes all things, and the rain has the opportunity to give them vitality. Respect each other and never stop.
The rain stopped, I just wanted to hum a little song, but I was afraid to break the tranquility here, and continued to stroll along the way home. The closer I got to the village, the fog gradually disappeared. I was still in the misty rain just now. Suddenly, there was a kind of "heavy mountains and rivers, and there is no way out, and the willows and the flowers show up another village." Looking around, the golden rice in the field has matured, and patches of light golden yellow are scattered all over the field. Several houses seem to be criss-crossed by small roads, restaurants are crisscrossed, and farmhouses are smoking.
The sky is cold and misty in autumn, and there are countless peaks and mountains near and far. Come to explore the autumn water in the secret environment freely, and the house is like a garden. I think the "Peach Blossom Spring" written by Tao Yuanming of the Eastern Jin Dynasty may be hidden here. I don’t know which master handed it, and splashed Puzhehei into a landscape and pastoral ink painting with his otherworldly techniques.