Topic: Sophora japonica?
Author: Zhao?
When it is the fragrance of Sophora japonica, I think of the old Sophora japonica.
The locust tree is very old. It was cut down and strangled with rope. The bark covered with old scars cracked, but it was still full of leaves and flowers. A string of Sophora japonica flowers is like a silver chain and a jade flower, and there is a faint fragrance in the wind. Just like a silver-haired old man who has experienced vicissitudes of life, he forgot his pain and danced with his hair. The golden sun is covered by the crisp birds in my arms, and time shakes on the ground, just like grandma's staggered figure. ?
At this moment, my grandmother appeared. She walked more than ten miles to my house shaking her little feet. Grandma never lets anyone pick her up, which is her character. Grandma asked me as soon as she entered the door, "son, do you miss grandma or the grasshopper nest pinched by grandma?" I said, "Both." Grandma praised me for growing up.
"Grandma came from the base that year, and the adults didn't even eat the leaves of locust trees." Grandma always likes to tell me the past of her pinching her nest. "At that time, elm leaves and caterpillars on poplars were eaten, and only locust trees were the best, neither sour nor bitter, and they tasted sweet." She said that when she is old, she will become an old locust tree, but it is best not to have thorns, so as not to cut the child's finger.
Grandma can't see Sophora japonica falling to the ground one by one. Even if life is good and people no longer eat Sophora japonica, she still says, "What a waste!" " "Grandma put the fallen Sophora japonica in a dustpan and carefully selected it with glasses, as if examining her own shortcomings. What she pours into the pot is always white. Cooked, dried, kneaded with flour, and then magically flew out of her hand. The fiery red stove seedlings licked the bottom of the pot, and soon the nest was cooked.
Grandma invited my little friend to have dinner together. Wowotou was so hot that we stamped our feet and made grandma smile all over her face.
Mom said, "mom, you still can't forget other people's children." Think about it. When you were teaching, our family had a nest. You have to take it to school for others to eat. It never occurred to you that your daughter is also flustered by hunger. " "Alas, that ..." The smile on grandma's face was dispelled by the unnatural expression, and her eyes didn't know where to look, as if she owed her daughter a lot of human feelings.
After eating Sophora japonica, grandma sat under the tree and taught me to write. Grandma not only taught books, but also learned calligraphy, which is not simple in the hinterland of southwest Shandong. Grandma said that my writing posture is very correct, and maybe I will become a great calligrapher in the future. Grandma wrote a picture and I followed it. Unconsciously, the shadow of the locust tree has been ten feet away from us. At this time, I found that my grandmother was tired of writing, and the sweat on her face was completely bathed in the sun, crystal clear. ?
Grandma is almost seventy years old after all, and many things are beyond her power, but she is never idle. "It's an honor to call you here. Who wants you to work? Look at you tired. " Mother calls her grandma when she sees her work. Young I naturally don't understand, grandma, why are you so stubborn?
When I came home from school that day, I found the yard clean and the pots and pans neatly arranged. I called my grandmother, but there was no response. It turned out that she was kneeling on the floor in the room, panting at me. "Grandma is not tired, she is sick." It seems to be talking to me and talking to itself. She knocked over a bowl of boiling water on the table and spilled it all over the floor. Water is still dripping on her from the table. Grandma really can't move. I ran to the field crying and called to my Lord.
The whole family accompanied my grandmother to the hospital. Only I looked at the horribly quiet yard, and the small bench was empty. The newly released Sophora japonica stayed in the basket, as if braving the last heat, and a gust of wind blew from the direction of the hospital. The tree covered with Sophora japonica flowers is as soft as white gauze, floating around like clouds, and suddenly fell to the ground, which is terrible.
When it is the fragrance of Sophora japonica, I think of the old Sophora japonica. In fact, grandma is an old locust tree. There are many such old locust trees in my hometown. Those locust trees with branches are elegant and clean, emitting a faint fragrance, which constitutes a unique scenery in the spring breeze.