Autumn has arrived again, and the whole courtyard is in a depression, and the number of people is gradually decreasing.
I heard that the maple leaves in the back mountain were red one tree after another, one layer after another, and they looked like burning clouds in the sky, but I never went up the mountain to see them again.
No matter how popular it is, no one will look at it, and it is just being sentimental in vain.
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