秋天似乎总是在不经意间来临的,它或许是拂过你身上的一丝凉爽的夜风,或许是老树枝头悄然落下的一片黄叶,或许就是这乡野里的一地虫鸣。炎热的夏季,除了树蝉的长鸣,我们也能听到田野里或是草丛中断断续续的一些虫儿的鸣叫,可它们总是小声的低吟,弱弱的,柔柔的,好似含羞的处子,只瘦瘦的一两个音符,便不作声响地藏匿起了自 Autumn seems to always come inadvertently, it may be a trace of your cool night breeze blowing, perhaps the old branch of the tree quietly falling yellow leaves, perhaps this is a rural area of ​​insects. In the hot summer, in addition to the cicadas’ sings, we can hear tweets of insects in the fields or intermittent in the grass, but they are always whispered croaking, weak, soft, shy At the son, only a thin one or two notes, they hide themselves from the sound