Prose or poem about Dashilar (the prose requirement is no less than 500 words)

Fence

In big cities with many high-rise buildings, it is always rare to see a piece of land. In our small city, the existence of land has become equally rare.

One day, I accidentally saw a small piece of land not far away, lying quietly next to a short step that had been smashed into pieces. The same vegetable was planted neatly on it, but I couldn't name it.

When spring arrives, the land becomes lively, and small green buds sprout from the ground, growing with the rhythm of hope. In the afternoon sunshine, you can often see an old man with silver hair on his temples and a shambling gait. He may be holding a kettle or a shovel in his hand, working in the land, as serious as a primary school student who has just entered school. Literacy. The passing vehicles and the naughty children would inevitably destroy the "masterpiece" of the old man's hard work, so the old man built a self-made protective wall for them - a fence.

The fence is very simple. It is just a slender wooden stick with wire and wire to surround the vegetable field. The old man was very careful when weaving the fence, but his rough and old fingers shuttled dexterously between several wooden sticks and wires, as if he was weaving a unique fantasy world. Whether it was the laughter of children nearby, the sound of vehicles coming and going on the road, or the chirping of birds on the branches beside him, he never raised his head to look up. At this moment, the old man was completely immersed in his work. Even the white clouds in the sky seemed to have stopped, attracted by the old man's concentration. When I looked again the next day, there was already an exquisite and neat simple fence on the vegetable field, like an alternative landscape in the city, attracting countless people passing by. That fence contains the care and care of the old man, which is the shadow of the old man protecting the vegetables. The green vegetables in the ground, like the old man's children, thrive in the sunshine, rain and dew, and the green becomes more and more lush in the old man's heart.