The heat wave is rolling, and it is another year of "double robbing" season.
Just before dawn, farmers were faintly working in the farmland. In the "double grab" season, the season waits for no one, and grabbing the harvest and seeds seems to be a routine state, and there is no room for negligence. For farmers, the "double grab" is a battle, with seasons to grab time, rice to grab harvest, and seedlings to grab seeds. Every link is tight and we dare not slack off. "There is confiscation, whether it has been to beginning of autumn." A long-standing agricultural proverb illustrates the importance of grabbing seeds in time.
Nowadays, the pace of "double robbing" in rural areas is approaching, and difficult times have appeared in front of us. Although I am no longer engaged in agricultural labor, I still remember the hard work and fatigue of "double robbing" in the past, and I will never forget it.
Every morning at three or four o'clock, my father and I go to the fields to cut rice and pull out seedlings, and even my mother delivers breakfast in Abel Tamata. At noon, the sun was shining and the heat wave hit people, and farmers went home to avoid the midday heat. Rest until three or four o'clock in the afternoon, then go to the fields or plant rice or transplant seedlings, and work until after ten o'clock in the evening before going home.
After a hard day's work, the whole person's skeleton feels scattered, but the rice in the field has not been cut, and the seedlings to be planted have not been planted, so there can be no rest. The next day, I crustily skin of head and dragged my tired feet to continue working in the field.
Later, I left the countryside to work in the city, and agricultural labor was no longer my main business. But my roots are still in the countryside. A few years ago, my family was in charge of several acres of responsibility fields, and I was taken care of by my old father who was over 70 years old on weekdays. And I regard the pen in my hand as a pole, carrying the responsibility field at one end and the layout at the other, shouldering two important tasks. Although I work hard, I dare not make mistakes.
Later, with the alienation of agricultural work, I gradually became a farmer who washed his feet ashore and lost the idea of working in the fields. But the old father at home, who has retired for more than ten years, still maintains the true nature of a farmer, staring at a few acres of responsible fields at home, planting spring crops and harvesting autumn crops, and enjoys it.
Whenever the "double snatch" season comes, I feel ashamed to think that my 70-year-old father is going to bend down to cut rice fields in the field, and I am sitting in a chair with my legs crossed in my shoes and socks. Therefore, taking advantage of the "weekend", I will still go back to my hometown to "reform through labor."
I took the early bus home and didn't arrive at 7: 00 in the morning. I have returned to my hometown in the country from the city 80 miles away. When my mother saw me coming back, she jumped up with joy and said, "Finally, your father went to the field to pull out seedlings at 4 am." You haven't had breakfast yet. You came back just in time. Bring him some rice quickly and help him plant two seedlings in the field. " As soon as I heard this, I went straight to the field as soon as I lifted the rice jar.
Every July, the heat wave attacks people, which is the season of "double robbing" in rural areas. Farmers are busy harvesting crops and seeds. Almost everyone they meet in the wild is in a hurry. They met face to face, but just nodded as a greeting. There is no time to say a few more polite words.
In the field, there are crowds everywhere, and farmers are busy cutting early rice and planting late rice. In the double summer season, farmers come out early every day and work late under the starlight, so everyone becomes a "black-headed" pig breed. Generally, going out early and returning late is basically to encourage the seedlings. In the morning, all the seedlings planted during the day should be pulled out.
In farming season, farmers generally don't farm at noon, because the sun is too hot at noon, which is easy to burn seedlings and difficult to survive. Only in the afternoon or evening do they go to the fields to transplant rice seedlings. This situation is not that farmers steal from them, but that farmers cherish their crops and seedlings, which is more important than caring for their health. Because, when the seedlings are pulled out in the morning, transplanted in the afternoon and soaked in water for a long time, the primary roots will grow. At this time, it is easy to survive if you are planted in the ground, and the poisonous sun will not decline.
When I arrived at my farm, I saw my old father without a straw hat, his silver hair shining in the morning glow, and he was bending down to pull out seedlings. My nose is sour and my heart is strange. It's a "sin" to think of yourself as a big boy over the years and not help my family, involving my old father to make arrangements for me inside and outside. Hurriedly called his father to go ashore for breakfast, and he jumped off the ridge to "take over the post."
In rural areas, pulling out seedlings is a rough job, but it is very skillful and cannot be completed by strength alone. Some rural areas are very hard, and women may not be able to eat when they pull out seedlings. Pulling out seedlings is also a technical job. For those who can pull out seedlings, the roots and seedlings are straight, washed and arranged side by side without disorder. People who can't pull it out, the seedlings that are pulled out, like dogs catching cats, have uneven roots. When it comes to farming, such seedlings are busy with transplanters. Generally speaking, people who transplant rice will start cursing their mothers when they see these seedlings.
I remember that before, I was also a formal laborer in the countryside, plowing the fields and doing farm work all year round. I am good at everything. But unexpectedly, I just left the countryside for a few years, and the original farm work was somewhat different. It is even more hectic when pulling out seedlings. Pulled seedlings are like ants climbing trees, up and down, in a mess.
I looked up at the seedlings pulled by my old father. The roots of the seedlings are neat and orderly, and I can't help being ashamed for a while. I glanced at my old father. He is too busy eating breakfast to care about it. Because of my vanity, I pulled down my uneven feet, trying to disguise myself and get away with it.
Unexpectedly, the father who bowed his head to eat did not lift his head. He even said: "Chaos is chaos. Do not pull. Pull it out, the seedling leaves will be broken, and you will not live. " I was speechless for a moment, so I had to work honestly with my head down.
After dinner, my father was busy working in the fields without rest. Working beside my father, I am still like a pupil. I secretly glanced at my father's gesture of pulling out seedlings. I saw that he didn't take his palm out of my arms like me, but held it with his left hand. He hugged the seedlings outward with the palm of his right hand, and then quickly passed the pulled seedlings to his left hand, holding them together one by one, with tacit understanding. It's fast, but not chaotic. In short, it is very rhythmic. After pulling out the seedlings with one hand, put the seedlings together with the palm of your hand, and then wash the seedlings with both hands.
There is also stress on washing seedlings, and you can't wash them in water. If you wash it indiscriminately, it is easy to mess up the original neat seedlings. Instead, you should hold the seedlings with your hands, push with your left hand, touch them with your right hand, hold them tightly with your hands and wash them in "five deep and one shallow" water. Generally, it takes more than a dozen strokes to clean the soil at the roots of seedlings, and then tie the seedlings with prepared straw.
Bundling seedlings is also a technical job. Those who can't tie the seedlings will be dismantled more and more tightly in the ground, and it's late. Those who know the technology can untie the bound seedlings by pulling straw by hand. This means that the "neck" of the seedling should be tied with a "slipknot" instead of a "dead knot".
The seemingly simple farm work has so many twists and turns. Nothing in society seems to be smooth sailing. If you want to do anything well, you must pay attention to norms and skills. Otherwise, even things like farm work can't be done well.
After pulling it all morning, I found rows of neat seedlings behind my father, counting hundreds of "seedling necks". Three hours later, I pulled out thirty or forty "seedling necks". Father said, "Almost, just thirty or forty seedlings of yours, this afternoon's hilly land is probably enough. Let's go home and rest, and then come to farm after sunset in the afternoon. "
As soon as I heard the order to stop, in case of Amnesty, I ran to the ditch beside the field to wash off the mud, put on my shoes and sat in the shade. Although father's mouth was closed, his hand didn't stop. Just as I washed my feet and went ashore, I pulled out two new "Miao necks".
After going home for lunch, the summer sun shines diabolically. After my father finished eating, he put a recliner under the forest tree in front of his house and fell asleep beautifully. I sat in the shade of a tree, full of thoughts, working hard for my father's life and the hardships of farmers' life.
I suddenly remembered an ancient poem by Yan in the Tang Dynasty: "In the middle of the night, Hull occupied Xiao Geng, and the cow gradually couldn't walk. When people don't know the hardships of farmers, they will say that Tanaka Valley is born. " Yes, it is really hard to feel the meaning of "every grain is hard" without working in the farmland.
At three o'clock in the afternoon, the farmers who stopped working went to work one after another, and I followed my father to Tiantou. At this time, although the sun had set, Yu Wei was still there. Walking barefoot on the hot road hurts the soles of your feet.
At this time, the water in the ground was exposed in summer, and the water temperature began to burn your feet. People who have never been out of the game are really difficult to adapt to for a while. I didn't hesitate to see my father go to the fields. He took his steps, rubbed, rubbed, rubbed and walked to the center of the field. He carried the seedlings pulled out in the morning to the ground to plant, threw them in a good position one by one and spread them out. I just wanted to put my toes into the water when I shrank back from the heat and couldn't help grinning. Just like an old saying in the countryside has come true: when you farm in summer, you will die in the sun and die in the heat below.
Farming is not only a physical activity, but also a technical activity. Farmers who can farm land usually keep their feet in the paddy field, but follow the direction of the field, and their bent posture will not change, and they have always maintained a posture. Those who can't farm will step on their feet in the paddy field, just like "Buffalo treads on mud, and its feet won't stop". My father was in front, and I followed closely, transplanting six strains in a row, and then delaying according to six strains.
Although I am not very good at farming, my brain never stops turning when I am farming. For a while, I thought that "a handful of green plants is green while I am green, and the smoke is lonely and the rain is invisible." The east wind dyed 3,000 hectares, and the egrets had nowhere to stop. "After a while, I thought," I put my hand into the ground and looked down at the water. "A pure heart is the right way, and retrogression is the progress!" The ancients expressed such hard work in such beautiful poems, which also belonged to a superhuman realm. Especially the latter poem, Zen epigram, is thought-provoking.
This poem about transplanting rice seedlings is full of philosophy of life. Poetry tells us that retrogression is progress if we can see the distance from near. Ordinary people have a tendency: look high, not low, and seek far, not near. And what the poem says: "If you bow your head, you will see the sky on the water", that is to say, if you bow your head humbly, you can truly know yourself and the world. Most people always think that the progress of life is the progress of scenery, but this poem tells us that retrogression is also progress, and those who retrogress are more advanced and more beautiful.
The ancients said, "Retreat and strive for progress", make a concession before fame and fortune, and endure three points before people and me. This tolerance in humility is the real progress. Life can't go straight ahead. Sometimes, if we can take a step back and think about it, the so-called "turning back to the shore" can often have an optimistic scene. If you want to keep your career in the right direction, you can't just go on and have the courage to look back.
When my mind was open, my mind ran away, but my seedlings made no progress. When my father planted it, I still stayed at the beginning, and the rice seedlings were staggered and irregular. Besides, farming is really tiring. Bend over for half an hour, and then you can't straighten up. Every plant will make your back ache.
I planted it for a while and felt miserable. I just kept getting up to rest and found that my father planted a second bed in front of me after planting one bed.
I'm afraid my father will catch up with me and eat "steamed stuffed bun". Because, in rural areas, there is a saying that people who farm behind are surrounded by people who farm in front, and the countryside is called "eating buns". People who eat steamed stuffed buns can't lift their heads in rural areas, which is a manifestation of poor farming level, poor ability and poor technology. And my father was afraid that I would be negligent in farming and could not do farm work well, so he kept nagging at the back: "My waist is straight, my seedlings are straight, my arms don't lean on my knees, and my feet don't step on them ..."
After planting for a while, I was too tired to breathe. Finally arrived at the edge of the field, and finally planted a border field. Regardless of the mud on the ridge, I sat down and gasped. Looking up, my father finished planting the second border field. I was embarrassed to have more rest, so I went to plant seedlings in the field again. ...
Although the sun has set in the west, the afterglow is still there, and the sinister sunshine is still so dazzling. It hurts to shine on people's backs. Sweat has soaked the clothes and pants, and it is uncomfortable to stick to the body. Suddenly, I felt that "sweat" actually came out of my nostrils and dripped into the field, making the water red. I was shocked: "God, I have a nosebleed!" " "When my father saw this, he quickly told me to rest in the shade:" Alas, young people nowadays are lazy and have nothing to do. It's too hot to eat. Go back to rest first. I think one person can plant the rest of the land. I'll call it in a day. "
Looking at my father's old figure, in the green rice seedlings, I sat in the shade, at a loss. At this time, the afterglow of the sunset shone on his father's figure, and his bronze face became more black and purple in the sun. I didn't dare to have more rest, so I quickly went down to the field to transplant rice seedlings.
Being a farmer for a day gave me a taste of hardship.
Later, with the implementation of the land transfer mechanism, and parents' old age, they could no longer afford heavy physical labor, so the land at home was subcontracted to others, and the experience of farming became less and less. However, the suffering left by the "double robbing" peak season will never be forgotten.