For the seventies, I was born in the countryside, a child biggest wish is to jump out of the countryside, is no longer facing the loess back into the air when farmers. Since that time the rural life is too hard. My mother was alive requires us siblings four every morning to cut a load of firewood up the hill to eat breakfast before school. Came back from school in the afternoon to cut a load of firewood back to eat late dinner. When we gradually lost its freshness for firewood when they gave me this task mother had a grudge, I often complain mother too harsh. Mother has always said coldly: "You want to ease student books, go out of the countryside." The reason I finally left the countryside, maybe then it began to jump out of a desire to farm gate.
But when I jumped out of the farm gate in the county spent more than a decade later, but day by day to feel the emptiness of the soul, the sound of the hustle and bustle of the marketplace that often makes me restless, blinding lights are increasingly to the visual fatigue. Always feel too too boring too boring. So start thinking about going to play country, surprised to find that among my colleagues as long as it was proposed to the countryside to play, are jubilant to agree; friends when it comes to a restaurant to eat a meal of what should be a handful, if someone comes to the countryside eat a meal, have wives and children to go to catch. Those who, like me, "encircling the cities" redneck seems to have the same village complex.
Perhaps people who have clay into the flesh, and the soil’s fate is born. The village that exudes fragrant garden soil is pregnant with the origin of human spirituality. So I often get lost in thought back to my garden.
My home is a water ring around the small mountain village, where there are two dozen families, a neat brick Daiwa yo. Behind the village is a very beautiful hill, just round the village, the Peak rounded and thick, lush trees dressed all year round bubbling beauty, colorful flowers from the bushes out dressed explore the hill, witty and lively, that often when we went to pick some wildflowers play a small hill, red azaleas, white gardenia and yellow chrysanthemum, hanging lanterns, between yellow and white lilies, purple lavender, diesel vines, etc., a lot of places stroked down but soon we ruined beyond recognition, and now want to come, quite throwaway behavior points. A small village nestling in the mountains, it is serene and quiet. Village at the foot of the mountain there is a well, Gan Lie sweet, it is the whole village drinking water wells, wells never dried up, nor overflowing, and always maintain that road hand in the place soon enough. So those women in the daily morning bent down, put down a pole and a bucket full of graceful tuck it filed a bucket of water, shook his shining walked into their kitchen. The village is always at this time began its day. In front of the pond was clear throughout the year as promised, placid. Sun and moon will always scrutinize their faces in a small plane, occasional breeze blowing, it will be pulled up on the shore of the trees Ruoliu ripples, the water will be broken into ten thousand ridge, cast in front of the wall, swaying infinite style. The shore is always surrounded by clusters of black bean size as tadpoles, vivid unsteadily forward. And from morning till night with a lively, are those green frogs, they suddenly Contin inroads in the water from the shore of the bushes, only to reveal pointy head, eyes staring with round yo water skies, issued quack calls, one after another to tease.
In addition to the mountain behind the village, surrounded by farmland on three sides. Over the seasons, the color of farmland will stubble crop changing, green yellow, yellow and green circulating. Because farmland around the village, so just do farm work at home door. Family to do the meal, they Dao Cunkou against farmland stretched shout a sound, looked up and was working on an elongated tone, "hey -" so that one should call a happy he waves in the entire village sky.
In fact, where we have less land, farm work is not much time, San Liangxia to complete the task, the villagers would seem a lot of time relaxing. Carry the shovel patrol on the ridge, is the common image of men, not so much farm work, as it is to enjoy the idyllic scenery, the sound of those seedlings often let them dial Festival obsession, while looking at those heavy golden rice spike even let them beaming. Those men will be very happy to walk in the countryside where this piece. Carrying a shovel men met each other, they do not need to be invited to sit together on the ridge, took tobacco, rolled up cigarette, a bag of smoke so I have a round with you a sucking, longing with smoke rising together. They talked loudly that anyone itching to do something, they do not smoke straw ridge to pick up on, bite in the mouth, straw would jump at the mouth danced the dance, immersed in the slightest sweet straw taste, the eyes do not consciously look to this piece of land. The men sat together until the family home for dinner in the village to speak out loudly, only to stand up on the dirt Paipaipigu, picking up shovels, contentedly back. In their eyes, this is life, leisure and fulfilling.
Tiny villages are uncles Guzhi looked down, surname neighbors, according to the tradition of seniority has been called on this side sustains rural. So, as long as there are red and white Which things, had obligatory participation, and are extremely hard to do. Someone kill pigs slaughtered sheep bowl bowl of what should be distributed, to end the last full, loud laughter coming out of it from the house, very warm. But I always do not understand is that we suffer from house to house where the lift skin soup in mind, but only when the user distribution (ie, when used Conquers bamboo cooking) with a bamboo fishing child, never change, and once I would like to use a pot filled to distribute, but his mother looked daggers at each other, then shouted: "! mess" eating a variety of things that I was very happy thing to do, as a child, I often rushing to dry, because, in someone’s home can be harvested in a very, very bright smile.
Perennial agricultural people are barefoot, their feet deep will be inserted into the earth in order to truly feel the call of the earth, yes ah, only the skin intimate contact with the earth, and the earth to get through Reiki, people are well versed in the agricultural sense. So many piles on the ridge on the left, large and small footprints, those footprints are drawing the most beautiful countryside, so vivid, so full of charm, so poetic.
Pastoral in that dignified and have dynamic what is? Dye is so clever in this boundless place of terraced rice paddies, which is in cattle. It marching rushing mud, swirls land swarthy, it just flipped over and under the earth ah, cuckoo bubbling, fragrant, very rich flavor, it gulps breathed Qimai life, the most rustic of the most massive gift presented. Come on, going creatures who, it is natural to give you the highest gift!
In the evening’s most charming countryside, dusk Dusk Dusk, pastoral vague outline will become erratic, just like veil of mist that one is about to float generally pestering the world, at this time, a variety of insects, people will start playing and singing symphony , the sounds of nature in general, but this time, there will be "moo" sound of buffalo owned laps this all to a climax.
This is my garden!
This was less a few years back, when the New Year to go back again this year, all bungalows cement road. Using tap water, there has been no winter garden crops, reportedly do not have cattle farming, and that wells had lax for a long time.
I think I’m already getting blanked pastoral strike.