The car sped on the expressway from the airport to Moscow, and the scenery on both sides flashed by. I suddenly have a feeling that I met an old friend in a foreign land. I am familiar with him, but I can't remember his name at once.
The suburbs of Moscow are more open than Beijing, and rotten grass has spread to the horizon. Red cabins on the grass are scattered carelessly, one in the east and the other in the west. The sky was washed as blue as blue. The birch forest on the roadside was gently brushed by the wind and stretched into the distance. The faint cold green reveals some yellow leaves, like a painter dyeing a few strokes casually. The world is spacious and quiet. Eight hours ago, I was still in the building of Beijing airport. Now I look at this strange scenery, but I feel deja vu in the strangeness. My head is stuck on the glass window, savoring and searching carefully. Cars enter the city, the traffic is like a shuttle, pedestrians wear coats and walk in the street, and the leaves on the sidewalk rotate gently under their feet. A red plum tree flashed by the window, as red as a fire. My heart lit up. Oh, I see. I flew thousands of kilometers to catch up with the autumn here and landed in its arms. I met autumn in Moscow this year.
The next day, we visited a cathedral. This is actually a park, with ancient buildings and early autumn Woods in harmony and tranquility. The folded thick poplars are not too dense, but they are too big for me to see through. The leaves are yellow and the wind rustles down, but the grass on the ground is still green and rich. The sunlight came in obliquely, and it was cut into wisps, and it was cut into magnificent and blurred wonders. I plunged into the Woods and shouted, "Take a picture of me quickly. I want this tree, this grass and this light. " If I were not a guest, I would really like to lie in a big word and try the gentleness of the earth and the coolness of the air. Tourists in twos and threes stroll leisurely in the forest, blending with the Woods, lawns and autumn colors. It is said to be a park, but it is not as busy and quiet as I saw at the foot of Xiangshan Mountain in China or on the porch of the Summer Palace. People come and go, naturally. I am facing the tree, looking up at the sky and enjoying autumn. What is autumn? Like an invisible hand scattering a handful of developer in the air, the sky is high, the clouds are light, the numerous leaves are shaken off, the trunk is thin, the air is clear and the space is open. In this way, the lively summer appears to be a quiet autumn.
What impressed me most in autumn was a party in Kiev. On that day, the Kiev branch of the Sino-Soviet Friendship Association invited us to discuss. Kiev was originally called "the city of chestnut trees", and the small building of the association was buried in the depths of chestnut trees, which was very quiet. After the discussion, the host specially prepared two small programs for China guests. There is a piano in the corner. At this time, two male and female singers came up, and they sang a song "There is only one life" with deep affection. The sound of this song clings to the ceiling and rubs against the wall, slowly turning back and forth, and we are bathed in the hot spring of music. I think of an idiom, saying that it tastes good when the scenery is good, and now it's right.
What a spiritual enjoyment it is to eat a wonderful music. I thought like this, and suddenly I looked up and saw the thick oak tree.
Towering chestnut trees outside the wooden window, buildings faintly visible behind chestnut branches and leaves. Cars in the street are speeding by, but there is no sound, like fish swimming in the water. I listened to beautiful music, watched the silent traffic, and stared at the yellow and green chestnut branches and leaves for a long time, reaching a realm that I had never seen before. The combination of motion and static is so ingenious. Is this for autumn? Autumn is really a filter. She filters out cicadas and frogs' drums in summer, and also filters out the troubles and restlessness of the world.
Another autumn is Leningrad. This is a port city and has long been the capital of tsarist Russia. The autumn scenery here is a combination of ancient walls, clear water and red leaves. The Summer Palace of the Tsar is now an art museum. In front of the palace, the clear water reflects the blue sky and white clouds. At the water's edge is a large dazzling red maple tree with a round golden roof on top. A beautiful child, dressed in bulging clothes, with a round face and big bright eyes, jumped up and down the stone stairs to pick leaves. I can't help feeling happy. I patted him on the head and asked him in Russian if he was a boy or a girl and how old he was. He looked up at his parents behind him and said, "Boy." Two more fingers means two years old. His parents have been smiling at the China man. These are two medical workers, and I am glad to invite them to take a group photo. The Soviet translator joked, "Do you want to take a photo with Su Xiu, too?" We all laughed, everyone leaned under the red maple, and this beautiful child. The autumn sun shines quietly on us, which is warm.
When I came back from the Summer Palace, I walked back to the hotel. Neva river walked along the street, next to the palace wall, and quietly passed through the city center. White waves gently beat the black stone strips on both sides, and the clear water reflected the church in Jinding in the distance. In the cool autumn, most tourists by the river wear windbreakers and velvet hats, and some even wear delicate gloves. Several young painters set up drawing boards by the river to capture the people in autumn scenery and this autumn scenery. As I walked, I looked at the sparkling river. On the other side of the river is the magnificent Winter Palace, and on the river is the famous cruiser Aphrodite. At that time, the representatives of these two old and new forces, one on the shore and the other on the water, became cultural relics that people mourn. I saw the smiling face of that little boy just now. The autumn wind brought the fog on the river, which was moist and moist. Here, or in the autumn scenery here, I see not only a filtering season, but also a filtering century.