Warm winter is autumn.

If the rustling rain hadn't swept through the warm and humid world tonight, I would have forgotten that winter flowers were blooming on the roadside.

I am running in the drizzle. The greasy and lovely rain is the medium of the earth and the sky, the wind is the ripple she arouses, and the cloud is her melted cotton candy. And the earth has fallen into a delicate and soft touch.

I ran in the fresh and humid air, forgetting that this was the last prayer made by autumn rain to catch the tail of the season.

If I can stop in a hurry in the morning, look at those obscure eyes in the sky and explore the depth of seasonal changes, maybe I can know how time slips through the world, my skin and my heart.

It's early winter, but the warm and thick clouds in Chengdu blocked the news of autumn's departure. Warm winter is autumn, so the city is still in the warm embrace of autumn.

If the open wooden door is not pushed open with a bang; If it weren't for the warm room, it would have been frightened by the strong wind; If it weren't for the "wow" of the flying paper in the room, I would have forgotten that the comfort just now was only from warm winter greetings, not from autumn comfort.

The warm sunshine in the morning lit up the boring classroom and spilled obliquely on the desk through the branches and leaves, so the desktop appeared a silhouette-like shaking scene, and the regular screen suddenly came to life. The murmur of the city replaced the sound of books on campus. The carefree shadow in front of me is gradually blurred, only the clothes rustle and rub against the skin, and the sunshine beats smoothly like an elf in the humid air. When I close my eyes, I can still feel the pulse of early spring and her moist breath in the wind. I can see the thick shade in summer and the edelweiss fluttering in winter ... My consciousness is gradually blurred, and my head is unconsciously buried in the continuous clouds.

Of course, I often stay in the clouds until three o'clock, until the bell of class pulls me back to my desk from the clouds. Sometimes, if you don't want to, your eyes will still linger outside the window, stretch out slender and smooth lines, close your eyes slightly, or stay for a while. A warm afternoon breeze is blowing in this lovely city. After the noise of lunch, everything returned to a leisurely and comfortable nap. In the autumn breath, I am like a cat lying on a tile, lazily basking in the sun. As if the whole world had stopped, time and I sat on this roof in the sunshine.

Autumn waters last forever, but in Chengdu without lakes, you can see the waves shining in the autumn air, which are the blue glass of the "heart of the city". It can be turned into a blue lake, floating in the air like a cloud and shining in the sky like water. Then the gorgeous color flow of autumn will gradually sweep this torrent, and every new action in the sky will leave a shadow in my heart. I especially like the crisp autumn sky, which makes people daydream infinitely. At this time, the clouds rippling in the middle of the lake, like a childhood balloon hung in the air by a thread, are like sweet cream held in the hand by the wind, and then cut into pieces by the wave shadow. This is the magical autumn and mysterious lake in fairy tales. I often think that perhaps Peter Pan is on the fluffy cotton, humming, pouting and watching us curiously. One night, he will take advantage of the autumn wind, take a few children to fly to the white feather, fly into the broken lake and fly to the distant Neverland.

Only today, the glass lake has been silent. The lake reflects the gloom of the sky, and the sky responds to the gloom of the lake. Suddenly, I lost the freshness of the past and the news of autumn. With the departure of autumn, the rest, the warm wind and the lake disappeared like a dream.

Her departure is no longer today. Beginning of winter has long been isolated from winter, and the city has been shattered by the rain tonight. Warm winter is autumn, just the illusion of autumn left by this city.

Looking up, I saw the sky torn by dark and dry branches, but yesterday, it was a ray of sunshine cut by lush leaves. Suddenly, the cold feeling replaced the warmth of autumn, and some did not adapt. But I can clearly hear the joyful rain describing the wet winter. Life is very quiet, and I am also very quiet. I want to know what the winter in this city is gestating and telling.

Warm winter is autumn, the transition between autumn and winter is so slow and the boundary is so light, so I fell into nostalgia for autumn, groggy and confused.

I think I'm going to sleep, sleeping in the wind shadow that suddenly leaves in autumn.