金秋十月,正是返乡探亲时。在老家,秋天总先光临地面而非树上——金黄的玉米粒被早早地铺散在道路两旁。不时有人拿铲子翻动一下,发出“沙沙”声,倒也不亚于风掠过枯枝败叶的声响。车开到村头,能看到几头老牛在木桩旁悠闲地吃草,那棕色的身躯在阳光下显得滑溜溜、油亮亮的;又拐进一条岔路,这时爸爸看着两旁的景物,带着几分兴致随口说着:“这里原先是果林,小时候我们天天去那玩;那里原来是学校,我的高中校园……”提到这些,语气的沧桑已不 Autumn in October, it is returned home to visit relatives. In my hometown, autumn always comes to the ground rather than the trees - golden corn kernels are spread early on the road. From time to time some people shovel shook it, issued “Sisha ” sound, it is no less than the wind swept through dead leaves. Driving to the village head, can see a few old cattle leisurely grazing beside the stakes, the brown body in the sun appeared to slippery, shiny oil; and turn into a fork in the road, when Dad looked at both sides Scenery, with a bit of interest casually said: “This is the original forest, a child we play that day; where the original school, my high school campus ... ...” Mention these vicissitudes of tone no longer