茶是有脾气的。想起这句话的时候,我正静静地坐在窗前,窗外是一望无垠的秋天。一丝丝的风,不经意地从窗隙里穿进来,吹着我和手中的书。我这样坐着已经很久了,我喜欢藤椅,那种用藤条和蓑草编成的椅子,古色古色,有淡淡的乡土味道。就那么坐着,淡淡地,无争无尤,无论窗外阳光灿烂,还是风吹簌簌,都改变不了我的姿势,和我内心的情绪。临窗的桌上放着茶,茶水在水晶的杯子里泛着微黄且绿的颜色,有入世的温暖,也有出世的寡淡,让眼前的秋天既清 Tea is temper. When I remembered this sentence, I was sitting quietly in front of the window, the window is an expanse of autumn. A trace of the wind, inadvertently wear through the window, blowing in my hand and the book. I have been sitting like this for a long time. I like wicker chairs, chairs made of rattan and razor clam, old-fashioned, with a touch of native flavor. So sitting, lightly, invincible, regardless of the sunny window or the wind, can not change my posture, and my inner feelings. The window on the table with tea, tea in the crystal cup glowing yellowish green and green color, with the warmth of accession to the WTO, but also the widowed, so that the immediate fall of both