There is always a country road in my hometown in the 1970s that winds between the commune and the brigade. It is a winding road with many potholes and can only accommodate two cattle cars. A small road where cars barely cross each other.
For as long as I can remember, it has been like a sheep intestine running through several scattered natural villages. On both sides of the road, two rows of slightly majestic poplar trees were planted, reflecting the excavations during road construction. In the clear river water of different widths. When spring comes, the green grass under the trees adds some vitality to the loess paths. The green leaves on the treetops flutter in the wind, making a roar of applause. In summer, the dense branches and leaves are like a green ribbon, dancing among the scattered trees. The autumn wind blows the fallen leaves like butterflies, suddenly revealing the nests of magpies and woodpeckers. The winter snow is flying and covered with branches. A beautiful scene of the northern scenery appears on the land along the coast of northern Jiangsu.
On this country road, the person who walked the most at that time was probably the young man carrying a schoolbag. I am one of them, a scholar who has been going back and forth four times a day for five years. I have a very deep memory and emotion about it. Every time I think of it, the five flavors of sour, sweet, bitter, spicy and salty are mixed, which makes me feel... I can't tell, I don't know what kind of feeling, mood, and imprint it is.
I remember the first time I walked on this road was just after the Spring Festival in 1971. The spring was cold and the snow was flying intermittently in the hazy sky. I was a preschool teacher from Nanjing. After half-coaxing and half-coaxing from the educated youth sister, I was sent to the village primary school to register. On the four-kilometer journey back, she urged me to study hard and make progress every day so that I could become an educated person in the future, be able to serve the motherland, honor my parents, and be more worthy of myself. When we were approaching the entrance of the village, she taught me several times to sing the popular songs of the time: "The East Is Red" and "The Sea Sails Depends on the Helmsman." From then on, my young heart became indissoluble with this path.
Every morning, under the morning light, facing the rising sun, I take a measurement. At noon, I rush home anxiously, have a hasty lunch and rush back to school. I wait until the sun sets in the west and the red clouds are shining, then I pick up my schoolbag again. Walking back tiredly and easily, humming a few words when happy, the boys would chase after each other with the songs they had just learned in music class, and sometimes they would play a game like the one in the movie, and the girls would usually He is very elegant, unhurried, and often whispers to each other, as if he has endless intimate words to say.
The means of transportation on the road at that time were extremely crude. Occasionally, one or two large defense bicycles, a luxury item at the time, could be seen, and the rest were unicycles accompanied by No. 11 legs bent into No. 77 shapes. Therefore, on the road It's so safe that adults rarely pick up and drop off, so there's no need to worry about it. Even if there is an accident, it will only be caused by the panic of the cyclists, and it will only be a scratch at most.
What interests me the most on this road is the squeaking and squeaking of the poles that can be heard from a long distance. Every time I hear it, I will think of Mr. Zhu’s pole. Song. No matter how heavy the shoulders are, the people who carry the pole always look so elegant. One hand gently holds the pole, and the other hand swings back and forth like a yangko. The steps appear light and fast. If I want to listen longer and follow him, I have to trot after him. At this time, the burden bearer will often become happy and speed up his pace, talking and laughing to amuse me. It was due to my ignorance as a child at that time, but now I think about how hard it is for those who bear the burden. Their elegance is just a cover for their helplessness and bitterness, but there is still no lack of beautiful rhythm.
The number of walks is increasing day by day, and I am very familiar with the weeds, poplars, rivers and bridges on the roadside. To exaggerate, I can come and go freely even with my eyes closed. Traveling through spring flowers, summer stars, autumn moon, flying geese, and winter snow. As the annual rings increase, I will begin to pay attention to the changes in people, objects, and scenery along the way, and I will secretly savor and chew this loess barrier. The rhythm and charm of a solid country road.
If the weather is fine for several consecutive days, especially in spring, summer and autumn, a thick layer of powdery dust will soon form on the ground due to the grinding of wheels and the trampling of shoes. From a cleanliness perspective, walking on it is pleasant and comfortable. But you must not show your face at this time. Even if it is a small accidental whirlwind, the calm will immediately turn into a silent ancient battlefield. If you are not careful, it will definitely make you cry and cough.
Entering the rainy season, children's minds are obscure. If it rains heavily, it won't be a big deal. The dust will rush into the tree roots and rivers on both sides with the rain, leaving only small lakes and lakes dotted with them. All you have to do is cross or bypass the pond. The heavy rain also makes the grass and trees on the roadside clean and refreshing, and the air becomes fresher and more pleasant. If it rains and falls for several days in a row, it will be unspeakable. If your shoes get into your schoolbag, boys and girls will have to go barefoot and slip step by step. If you are not careful, they will fall into mud monkeys. Boys can still be shameless and sneak into the classroom, but girls will definitely run home crying and turn into tabby-nosed cats in a short time.
The most terrible thing is winter, with heavy rain and snow, howling wind, the cold night, which makes the road slippery in the morning, and the weak sunlight during the day, which melts the ice and makes the path muddy. All adults want it. Be careful, children will not be able to walk at all and will either have to go through wheat fields or river ridges. At noon, many timid students sometimes would rather go hungry for a long time than try to go home. The limitations of living conditions and their thin clothing make them look even colder.
If it is a sunny March day, the heavy winter clothes have faded away, like a soldier who has taken off his armor, lightness fills the body and mind; the birds on the trees are playing in groups, murmuring and singing in pairs There are birds, there are dances; there is a kind of bird, I still can't call it by name, I just remember that its cry is very sweet, and its mouth is like dewdrops, full of water, which makes people feel like they are in the mountains and forests. The feeling of a deep valley, walking into the shade of the trees, the sound of birds dripping down, drop by drop, just like the sounds of nature arranged without any arrangement, makes people linger and forget to leave. Although the weeds and common flowers on the roadside are not as graceful as peonies, nor as precious as peonies, nor as dazzling as crabapples, they bloom one after another, and the fragrance is rich, attracting countless wings that emerge from their cocoons and become butterflies, dancing gracefully, and hardworking bees. , even more joyful. The fish in the river are full of passion, chasing each other. The lingering mist is among the sparse green water plants, and the canopy of poplar trees reflected in the water has become their natural shade. The spring breeze passes by, swaying the graceful and graceful shadows of the water plants.
In the hot summer, the noisy cicadas kept calling "Cicada, Cicada", and the green shade of the poplars became the pursuit and favorite of the footsteps, and the path naturally changed from the center. On both sides, the sparse sunlight falls on the road, turning into stars in the night sky. The green leaves move with the wind, making the stars blink charmingly; the freshness of the fields passes through the forest, teasing the eyes of passers-by like ice-cold towels. Sweat; the occasional frog drum tells you that the place where it stays is cooler; walking on such a road, there is only refreshment, only happiness, and worries and sorrows have long been hidden in Java. But a warm reminder, no matter how happy and comfortable you are, please lighten your steps. Heavy steps will definitely cause cicada urine all over your head and face. Of course, even so, don’t worry, because cicadas drink morning dew. , the clean thing that absorbs tree sap, will never ruin your satisfying clothes.
The arrival of the golden autumn in September is the beginning of the new semester after a summer break. We are happily walking on the path surrounded by fruitful results, as if everything is full of fresh feelings and atmosphere. Occasionally, there is a pond connected to a small river, with its leafy skirts and hibiscus curling up from the water. The white is dazzling and the purple is dazzling, complementing each other. The fragrance floating in the wind will inevitably make you slow down and approach the river. Everything is floating. The water surface and the plump and round red water chestnut horns will surely make you feast on them if you lower your head and reach out. But those were collective things at that time, and according to the education of teachers and parents, we would never do anything that would harm the interests of the collective. Even if we were greedy, we had to wait until the members picked it and distributed it to each household before feasting on it. As the autumn atmosphere grows stronger, the autumn wind ruthlessly picks the withered leaves of the poplar trees that are dyed apricot yellow by the autumn frost and throws them into the nearby sky; the leaves flying like butterflies, after a brief flutter, fall affectionately into the embrace of the earth. Soon it will turn into spring mud to repay filial piety to the mother's roots; the grass beside the tree roots has lost all its greenness, withered and yellow becoming the main color, shrinking into the main theme, and looking forward to the spring breeze to grow again.
The severe cold of March 9th is a cold world. The cold is ruthless and it also dominates this country road. The considerate poplar shakes off its leaves and uses its bare trunks and branches to resist the early wind. At the same time, it gives out as much sunshine as possible to pedestrians and broadens people's horizons. The dark green of Sanmai brings the feeling of spring to pedestrians. Memories, longing for spring. The cold day after day has caused the small rivers on both sides of the road to be inadvertently covered with a thick layer of white crystal, as calm as a mirror. No matter how wild the wind is, it can't make waves. It doesn't take a few days to tempt boys' feet, even if they fall. My nose was bruised and my face was swollen, but I still had a strong and competitive heart, and I still had to step on the smooth surface. After repeated attempts, there were many more eagles spreading their wings, gliding birds, and the shambling chicks on the river... So the road changed again. on the river. No wonder, Mr. Lu Xun once said that there is no road in this world, but when there are more people walking, there is a road. Of course, it is a bit inappropriate to use it here, but the reality is like this. Leng walked on the river instead.
Of course, this country road is not only walked by the feet of students, and not only by the steps of scholars. Like other roads, it has also passed the rattles of sellers and walked through The chirping of poultry, the jumping of carp, the green vegetables, the white onions, the orange of wheat, the gold of rice, the red cherry blossoms of the militiamen, the soldiers' guns, and the captain's meditation, The party secretary's anxiety... Some people would say, did the car pass by? I've walked through it, but it's definitely not the BMW and Audi we have today.
When I left my hometown and went south, I took a walk on that country road twice. In my contemplation, I wanted to find some emotional support and memories, but I didn’t seem to find anything worth collecting. But now I’m more than 20 years old. Years have passed, but it is like an eternal classic, winding and stretching in my heart. It turns out that it moistens things and hides silently at the bottom of my heart: singing softly, singing and dancing.
Perhaps, this country road has long been expanded into a broad avenue with the prosperity of life, but it will always exist in the hearts of people who have walked on it for many years like me, because, It is not only the only way for us to get out of the countryside, it can also be said to be our wings in the sky and the ladder into the clouds. It is also a strong foundation for us to travel north and south and one of the emotional threads that maintain our hometown.