Autumn in Yabuli: The forest dyed gold, turning time into poetry

Shedding the lushness of summer, autumn in Yabuli feels like nature has overturned its palette. With a 96% forest coverage rate, it becomes the best canvas, stretching from the foot of the mountain to the top of Guokui Mountain, unfolding a grand carnival of colors. Before the morning mist has fully lifted, a thin layer of frost has already formed on the wooden fence of the Warm Residence villa. The frost-covered maple leaves glow bright red, like flames accidentally left on the branches. Opening the door, the wind lacks the summer’s humidity and carries the dry freshness of pine needles and wild fruits. Taking a deep breath, even the lungs seem infused with the crispness of autumn. Walking upstream along the creek from last summer, the scenery has already changed. The once babbling creek has thinned, with pebbles at the bottom wrapped in fallen leaves. The birch forest on the bank is the first to don its “golden coat.” Sunlight filters through the sparse branches, sifting golden leaves onto the ground. Stepping on them, they rustle like autumn’s whispered secrets hidden in the woods. Reaching halfway up the mountain, a vast maple forest suddenly appears, with red, orange, and yellow leaves intertwined. When the wind blows, the leaves twirl down, some drifting into the creek, flowing downstream as if carrying Yabuli’s autumn spirit far away. Climbing to Riyue Pavilion in the afternoon reveals the full view of Yabuli’s autumn. The layered mountains are dyed in gradient colors: the foot of the mountain is a base of green pines and cypresses, the mid-mountain is interwoven with golden birches and orange-red maples, and the shrubs at the summit show deep brown hues. From afar, it looks like an oil painting spread between heaven and earth, even the clouds at the horizon are gently tinted. Occasionally, birds fly over the forest sea, their wings stirring a few falling leaves, adding a touch of liveliness to this serene and beautiful scene. Returning to the Warm Residence villa at dusk, the host serves freshly cooked mountain hawthorn porridge. The sweet and sour aroma mixed with the warmth of the fireplace’s wood fire dispels the mountain’s slight chill. Sitting in the rattan chair in the yard, watching the sunset dye the wooden house’s pointed roof orange, holding wild hazelnuts freshly picked from the mountain, and listening to birdsong from the distant forest, one suddenly feels that autumn in Yabuli is never desolate. It is passionate, full, and turns a whole year’s time into poetry within reach.