At the end of September in the lunar calendar, the weather in the capital is already very cold,
The leaves on the willow trees seemed to smell the taste of early winter, turning from green to yellow one after another, breaking away from the shackles of branches and spiraling to the ground.
If this scene falls into the poet's eyes, it may turn into a beautiful poem.
But it fell on the minds of the working people, and that was the grumbling of impatience, because there was another job of sweeping leaves.
Guan Erniang got up early in the morning, poured out the urinal, finished breakfast, and swept away the fallen leaves of the big willow tree at the door. Her face was sweating after all her work.
As a result, I returned to the yard to have a look