Home is in the north, every autumn, there is a picturesque scenery outside the window.
In my spare time, I sat at the window and watched a wisp of autumn wind blowing down the treetops with a yellowed leaf, which hovered and fell under the tree, ending its life.
At this time, I naturally think of a friend's words about those fallen leaves: "the last leaf on the branch also fell, I am a little sad, but it does not seem to have." Because I clearly saw that it was not reluctant to part when it left, but drew a beautiful arc in the air. Maybe it knew that this was the last dance in his life, but it was still beating strongly, for the sake of the world it had stayed in, and for its rebirth again. "
I remember we argued about it. I said Ye Luo was the end of life, but she insisted that it was a new life. At that time, I couldn't beat her, so I had to acquiesce, but I was a little resentful after all. However, when I think about it now, whenever I blame myself for being short-sighted, I can only see the fallen leaves turn to dirt, but I can't see the beautiful soul dancing. From then on, I believe that leaves are spiritual. I always hope that sometime in the future, I will see a familiar shadow on a leaf. Maybe in the previous year, it grew on the tree outside my window.
The time of youth is always the best memory. I remember that we always like to stare at the blue sky outside, the flowing clouds and the flying butterflies. She said that butterflies were like fallen leaves because they were as beautiful as they danced. When she spoke, she was still wearing a skirt in the middle of summer, and she looked a little cowered in the cool autumn wind. I smiled and said that she was a bit like a butterfly, as thin and beautiful. She suddenly became serious and said that even if the butterfly was bound to fly away, I was silent.
I don't think she really left later. Maybe she transferred to another school. I don't remember. In short, when I see the deciduous butterflies in autumn, I inevitably think of her like a butterfly, and then I sigh with emotion about the impermanence of life. Thinking in this way, I can't help but feel a little lost. For a long time, I can't get used to the loneliness that her departure brings to me. Later, after a long time and thinking too much, I was relieved. Since we were born naked and left unattached, the meaning of life is not the end, but the process.
The merciless cold wind will eventually engulf the thin figure of butterflies, and the cold snowflakes will eventually cover the tiny life of fallen leaves. But the butterfly dance did not stop, the soul of the fallen leaves is still singing, when I once again see the memory of that almost stubborn figure, that beautiful to moving curve, I understand that nature is beautiful because of them.
What about life? Life is beautiful because of you, because of me, because of everyone who treats life well and enjoys it.
Thinking about her, thinking about her again. Originally thought that the memory diluted by time, it turns out that it is printed deeper. So I opened my diary and wrote earnestly on the page that belonged to her: in fact, you don't know that the figure in a skirt swaying in the autumn wind is the butterfly in my life forever.
Author: the water is boundless
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