Maybe because I am a sensitive person by nature, so I love autumn very much.
One morning when I woke up, I found that overnight the ground was covered with yellow leaves. Walking on them makes a rustling sound. I like this feeling, crisp and a little melancholy, like this quiet blue sky. Occasionally, a few leaves brush past my hair, spinning and drifting away. They are like the memories that once stayed in your life, beautiful encounters.
And now it's still autumn, but I am in the south far away from my hometown. The autumn in the south has no floating yellow leaves, no cloudless blue sky. The nameless trees are still emerald green. There are large patches of clouds. Thus, occasionally on my way back from work, looking at this emerald green makes me feel a sense of unease and detachment.