一种自觉的沉思默想是夏?是秋?九月总显得琢磨不透,你根本无法确定是哪个季节。好像生怕自己太明朗了找不到站在季节边缘的守望者。冷清空旷了整个漫长暑假的校园又开始喧嚣热闹,耐不住寂寞的大门已敞开暖色的笑意,脚步与自行车汇合的潮水重新涌过 A kind of conscious meditation is summer? Autumn? September always looks shameless, you simply can not determine which season. It seems that I am afraid that I am too clear to find a watcher standing on the edge of the season. The cold emptied the entire campus after a long summer vacation and started to sizzle. The door to loneliness has opened its warm smile, and the tide that merges with the bicycle has re-emerged.