A broken bridge, left by the stream, can no longer helplessly link the gap. On an evening when the wind sweeps away the last clouds, it waits for a dream to come.
I don't know how long these blossoms will stay in bloom; at least, this tree's August crimson has fallen into my heart.
Crisp footsteps echo through the embrace of the great mountain. Autumn dances with the lines of the wind, all at once dyeing the hills with autumn hues.
Flowers of autumn stand out against the breeze.
The winds of the misty mountains beat against the end of August. The waterwheel is not a windmill, yet it still turns with the seasons.
All I know is that, in the autumn wind, a tree of brilliant red catches the eye, enters the scene, and decorates the memory of August.
How long this tree of brilliant red will hang on, I'm not quite sure.
Lifting up the hem of her skirt, she shows her smile above the creek water. In the frozen moment, behind her, are clusters of bright red flowers, winding mountain paths, gurgling streams, and lush green mountains.
With a profusion of flowers before her as makeup, the atmosphere is rich with autumn and the appreciation of this vibrant red...
To Qiaotang Village, crossing over the stream, the stunning sight of a blooming red tree in a courtyard by the stream becomes the dazzling highlight of this mountain ravine. This mass of vivid red is like a mature and enchanting woman, standing out so strikingly and proudly against the green background of the surrounding mountains. With a passionate spirit, she welcomes the gaze of onlookers, laughing amidst the shimmering ripples of the creek bay.
The autumn wind carries the scent of mint.