Our world is like a small painter. There are blue, green, red and purple painters. They draw different colors. But I like yellow best because yellow leaves me a naive and brilliant impression.
When autumn comes, the withered leaves of the trees in the forest fall one by one, like a yellow butterfly dancing a beautiful dance in the breeze, then it will fall to the ground to rest.
Yellow spread to the vast fields, golden rice in the sun shining, as if a pile of gold in the farmer's uncle's fields, than who emitted more light. The brilliant and full rice attracted many sparrows. Thanks to the withered and yellow Scarecrow grandfather, he drove the greedy sparrow away in time with his fan.
The rice was warmed by the sun. The farmer saw it. He picked up the sickle and cut it one by one.
Yellow adds a different color to the world!