700
word
Nituxiang composition
700
word
It's another rainy and clear year, and my parents are finally free to take over the job at hand.
I left the red light and green wine in the city and returned to my hometown. There was a dull moment in the car. I opened the window and watched it go backwards rapidly.
Trees, what's the hurry? The wind came in and enjoyed the pleasure of blowing away the hair, but the window was closed.
Let's go The earthy smell that waited for me for three years, the bamboo forest that waited for me for three years, the old man who was silent forever,
The appearance of the scene.
In my memory, every summer after the rain. Grandpa will build his own bamboo bed to enjoy the cool in the bamboo forest, and I'll hang it.
Go to my hammock, listen to the sound of grandpa's "squeaking" cattail fan, swing the hammock high and sunny.
The gaps between bamboo leaves are like stars, flickering. The fresh smell of earth has been hitting me.
Smell. "Grandpa, why does the soil smell so sweet?" Grandpa must have touched me with his rough big hands.
Head, as comfortable as scratching. "Because there is a fairy living underground, and he wants us to be happy.
"alive", I blinked. Can you make him grow more soil? That would be more fragrant.
Yes "Grandpa laughed, and I smiled.
The cattail leaf fan shook and shook for a whole childhood. When I was ten years old, my parents came to meet me in the country. I see.
Holding grandpa's big hand. no
Let go and ask grandpa why he doesn't come with me. Grandpa touched the corner of his eye and said, "I am old and can't integrate into the new environment."
It's good here. It's good. You have to listen to your parents? "Let me cry, my father still let me go.
Holding it in the car, I lay prone in the back seat and looked at the figure with the bamboo forest trembling slightly in the wind as the background. Gradually
The blur disappears around the corner? .
When I finally reached my hometown, the rain stopped. I heard that grandpa was buried in the bamboo forest, so I hurried to the bamboo forest.
Almost fell down several times. Looking at the mud in front of me, my legs lost their strength. I sat on the edge of the grave and stroked my hand.
As soon as the grass grew, tears fell unconsciously. The greedy sense of smell tells me how much it likes this.
The smell of fragrant earth.
I sat next to grandpa, and it was windy. After the same rain, the same stars and the same earthy smell.
It's just that we all stopped talking.
Grandpa, the dirt smells really good.
Grandpa whispered, "Be happy."