When dusk comes, the distant city is brightly lit, but it still snuggles in the embrace of the deep blue mountain, waiting for sleep. Above the mountain, the sky near night is immersed in a strange blue and purple. The unique height and clarity of the sky in early winter show this strange beauty incisively and vividly, and the unique cold in winter is about to form a thin layer of frost on my hands.

I have no intention of missing this beautiful and harsh natural scene again, so I can't help but speed up my steps. The fallen leaves were trampled out of caracalla's voice-I just want to go home as soon as possible.

In my memory, I don't want to touch the cold key in my pocket, but reach out and knock on the warm door. When I opened the door, I was greeted by a warm yellow light and a smiling mother. She let me in sideways, hung up my cold clothes and was busy pouring a cup of tea from the teapot. The yellow transparent tea leaves poured from the streamlined teapot mouth slowly flow out until they all flow into the white porcelain cup below.