Prose is a narrative literary genre that expresses the author’s true feelings and has a flexible writing style. The following is my collection of nostalgia prose, welcome to check it out! Nostalgia Prose 1
It’s the Chinese New Year, and the whole city is immersed in the joy. People are walking on the street with red faces and in a hurry, either lingering in the department store to buy new clothes, or wandering around the farmer’s market to make purchases. New Year's goods are packed in large and small packages like travelers on a long journey. They seem to have completely forgotten the fatigue of running around and are so excited. Especially in the evening, when you climb high and look far away, you will see that the rows of high-rise buildings are covered with all kinds of strange high-tech lights. The neon lights are bright and colorful. The dazzling lights make the huge city shine like daylight, which is very dazzling. Even though I am in my forties, I can't help but be deeply affected by this gorgeous and colorful scenery, and I feel a deep sense of homesickness.
“I miss my loved ones even more during the festive season.” It has been more than 20 years since I left my hometown. Due to the complicated and trivial matters of work and family in a foreign land, I rarely go home, and even the number of phone calls to greet me can be counted on my hands. I feel very sorry for my relatives and friends in my hometown. However, every plant and tree in my hometown, as well as the local sounds and sentiments, remain deep in my memory. They cannot be wiped away or erased. They are only carefully picked up and chewed at every new year.
My hometown is in the countryside, a not-so-remote village, where a group of hard-working, simple, and straightforward farmers have worked hard and thrived for generations. I spent my first nineteen years there. Year. The New Year celebration in rural areas is much more festive and grand than in the city. Because it is the slack time for farming, the entire first month is considered Chinese New Year. On the 23rd day of the twelfth lunar month, the New Year begins.
I remember that when I was celebrating the New Year at home, the walls were covered with New Year pictures. The pictures were nothing more than big fat dolls, fish, birds, and Guan Gong, the God of Wealth. The windows were also covered with cutouts of magpie climbing. The window grilles and Spring Festival couplets are naturally indispensable. Even the pig house is pasted with the couplet "The pen is full of fat pigs, and there will be more than enough every year." Tall wooden poles are erected in the yard, and red lanterns are hung. A lot of New Year's goods are also prepared. Although the varieties are single, they are very abundant. There is a large vat in the yard, which contains enough pork and homemade farmhouse frozen tofu to last for several months. If your brothers or neighbors kill a pig, the wealthy family will first offer the pig's head on the ancestor's altar, then make the blood sausage yourself, make the skin jelly yourself, and stew sauerkraut, white meat, blood sausage and pork offal in a big pot. The fragrant smell instantly fills the whole village, which is enough for you to remember for a lifetime.
Adults look forward to the New Year because they hope to have a good harvest in the coming year. Children look forward to the New Year because they want to wear beautiful new clothes from the bottom of the box and eat some delicious meals without restraint. The most lively thing is on the eve of New Year’s Eve, when the family sits cross-legged on the earthen kang, eats New Year’s Eve dinner and watches the Spring Festival Gala. Just after ten o’clock, there are already firecrackers blasting outside the window, including Two Kicking, Flashing Thunder, Diamond Sky Monkey, etc. Various styles of firecrackers shot into the sky with loud noises. The silent and dark night sky was instantly torn apart by the firecrackers. Then, the entire sky became as starry as a rainbow, and the stars were brilliant. According to the elders, whose family’s The sooner you set off more firecrackers, the sooner the God of Wealth will come to your home. After setting off the firecrackers, the children of the family naturally gathered together and followed the adults to their elders' homes to pay New Year greetings and ask for rewards. As a result, "Happy New Year, Happy New Year" was heard in the streets and alleys. This is a New Year's greeting. Blessings are also people's hopes for a better life. The entire first month will be spent happily in this peaceful festive atmosphere.
For more than twenty years, I have lived in this prosperous metropolis and lived a prosperous life, but I can never let go of my attachment to my hometown, my concern for my relatives, and those simple and kind people. The folks from my hometown, those once innocent childhood playmates, the local accent, the nostalgic feelings, are entangled in my dreams from time to time, and they will never die.
It’s the New Year, I want to go home, go home... Nostalgia Prose 2
I have been away from my hometown and said goodbye to my hometown. Counting on my fingers, it has been more than thirty years, and my hometown has been here for more than thirty years. Plants and trees, field paths, blue sky and light clouds, simple folk customs, stars in the sky at night, stacks of wheat hay in the wheat field, corn stalks left on the roadside after the harvest in late autumn, wild flowers on the field ridges, and fields The cows and sheep grazing leisurely, the towering poplar trees on the roadside, the locust flowers on the cliffs in summer, and the fruits in the orchard are beautiful memories that I can never let go of.
My hometown is located in Zhaogong Town, Fufeng County, Guanzhong Xifu, under the jurisdiction of Baoji. It has convenient transportation from north to south and east to west, rich products and outstanding people. Where is the hometown where I was born and raised, the simplicity, kindness, kindness and strong local accent of the northwest men and the childhood memories in my memory, the magnificent relics of the Zhouyuan site and the customs and customs of the Shang and Zhou culture, and the prosperous Tang Dynasty. The echoes of morning bells and evening drums from Famen Temple linger.
Although I have been far away from my hometown for decades, my local pronunciation has not changed and my customs remain the same, because it is the soil and water that raised me. Where can I find the footprints of my ancestors, my ancestors, fellow villagers, relatives and friends who have the same blood as me? , I grew up playing together when I was a child, and the parents in the village have devoted their efforts and sweat to it. Now it is in ruins, with overgrown courtyards and farm bases. This deep nostalgia and simple local accent will never let me change. .
The reason why I left my hometown was because my father was working outside and we were still young and had no labor at home. In desperation, my father settled the household registration according to the policy and we got urban household registration.
Before leaving, I said goodbye to the neighbors in the village. The villagers were reluctant to leave, with tears in their eyes. They held my mother's hand and gave us countless instructions to see us off at the entrance of the village. When we saw the villagers fading away, my mother, who was in her 40s at the time, cried. It was the most sad and emotional. After all, this is the hometown where my mother has lived for most of her life. It contains her lost youth and the ups and downs of life, joys and sorrows, as well as the old people and brothers and sisters she is reluctant to leave. My mother has not been able to adapt to it for a long time. , It’s really hard to leave my homeland!
In my hometown in my memory, due to the lack of entertainment activities in the past, people only worked at sunrise and rested at sunset, repeating tedious and hard farm work, and being busy in the fields all day long. At the end of the year, I was only given a small amount of rations. Life can be said to be difficult and dull, but I am always happy as always.
For me, the best memory of my childhood was looking forward to getting out of school early on Saturdays. A few of my best friends would go to the wheat field at the head of the village to play in the wheat stacks, waiting to watch. Open-air movies or go to the west end of the village with my mother. There is a stone mill from an unknown era in the west end of the village. My mother always roasts the home-grown chili peppers in advance and puts the chili peppers on the stone mill. The cloth-covered donkey moves rhythmically. Turning in circles, after a period of grinding, the aroma of chili peppers spread everywhere. The playmates took out the roasted pot helmets that had been prepared, sprinkled them with salt, and smeared them with crushed chili sauce. He said that although he was sweating and his limbs were shaking after eating, it was the best delicious food for us to satisfy our greed.
Summer is busy and autumn harvest is the busiest season in my hometown, and it is also the day that the villagers are most happy and looking forward to. After working hard for more than half a year, it is time to harvest and return the grains to the warehouse. The farmyard is full of peace and tranquility. The scene of joyful harvest. Under the eaves of the courtyard, the branches of the trees are full of piles of corn and persimmons. The granary in the house is full of wheat. This is also the harvest and result of the villagers' hard work for a year. Although they are tired, they feel happy in their hearts. But it was all joy and excitement.
Seeing that the weather is getting colder and winter is slowly approaching, it seemed that there were many chances for snow in the past. Looking at the plains, the mountains and fields are covered with white, snowy and extremely cold. There seem to be very few roads between villages. If there are roads, they are dirt roads. In the snow, people only rely on their impressions to follow the footsteps of others and rush to their respective homes in their memories. This season is the most leisurely and comfortable time for the villagers. White smoke rises from the roof of every house, fires are raised, and warm kangs are burned. The work in the farmland is cold and freezing. , it’s time to have a good rest and take a rest.
I remember when I was a child, during this season, my grandma would go to live with my aunt for ten days and a half. She had small feet, so I became her crutch. In the past, transportation was inconvenient, and the place was more than ten miles away. My grandma and I walked and walked for several hours to reach Yangjiling Township, where my aunt lived. At my aunt’s house, what I remember most is the tofu shop in the village. My aunt got up early every day and scooped out a bowl of soybeans to exchange for tofu. She took me to the tofu shop and ordered tofu from the freshly cooked brine. The unformed tofu in the pot is called bean curd. When you go home, add the prepared garlic sauce and spicy oil. At that time, there is a faint bitter taste in your lips and the strong aftertaste of old tofu. I feel that the taste is really pure!
When winter comes, I look forward to going to the market and having meetings in the town. During this period, business people in the surrounding area have set up tents, occupied stalls, and set up cooking stoves in advance. The most unforgettable thing for me is Mutton steamed buns at the hometown market. Although my family was not rich in the past, my mother had to get up early every time she went to the market, bake the steamed buns, and go to the market to bring a pot of hot mutton soup to improve the lives of us sisters. She also had to eat secretly for fear of fear. Neighbors made irresponsible remarks. After all, living conditions were not good in the past. Fortunately, my father worked outside and the family could still provide financial support. At that time, I felt that my sisters were the happiest and my mother was the warmest. I still think of it now and then. Mom's smell.
My mother is a good at work. Although it is a cold winter, my mother is not idle at all. Every winter, my mother always lights a kerosene lamp, either spinning threads, weaving cloth, or collecting shoe soles, in the dead of night. In the old house, you can always hear the creaking of the spinning wheel and the clattering of the loom and shuttle with mother's feet. The white cloth is woven. Every time it is market time, several aunts come, and no one can stay idle. Take a hand and set up a pot in the yard to dye cloth.
Throughout the year, the sisters’ underwear, cloth shoes, shoe soles and kang sheets were all sewn by the mother with her own hands. The mother was not stingy. Before she left, she gave every piece of clothing to her sisters. Give some to everyone. Thinking about it, it makes people sad. Unfortunately, my mother has left us forever. We can only bury this beautiful memory in our deep memory forever and express our deep sorrow for my mother who cannot be forgotten.
In the twelfth lunar month, after the Laba Festival, the countryside and farmyards are full of the flavor of the New Year. In the countryside and small courtyards next door, those with better conditions began to hang vermicelli, noodles, butchered pigs, and deep-fried oil pans. They worked hard to reward their families and themselves after a hard year of hard work, and prepared New Year's goods for entertaining relatives and friends.
Finally, I stayed up until the New Year’s Eve night, and the spirit of the New Year was fuller. I put up window grilles, posted couplets, posted door gods, set off firecrackers, and added offerings to the Stove Lord. When it was time to become a member of the group, regardless of the relationship between brothers in the past year Good or bad, when it's time for the New Year's Eve dinner, the brothers have to prepare a plate of food at their own homes, and take their wives and children with them. Even if it's simple pork jelly vermicelli or a bottle of high-necked Xifeng wine, they have to go to the old man's house. There, we celebrate the New Year, have reunions, and watch the New Year’s Eve. After the old man handed out the New Year's money, the brothers all sat cross-legged on the hot kang, gathered around the small kang table, and talked about the housework at home. They looked forward to good weather, a good year, a good harvest, and a happy family full of children and grandchildren, and stayed up together to welcome the new year. 's arrival
On the first day of the Lunar New Year, there is peace and joy in and outside the village. Neighbors wish each other blessings and say hello to each other, which indicates that the new year has arrived. People begin to visit relatives and friends to pay New Year greetings. There are more relatives on the road. With the flow of people visiting friends, the women's colorful headscarves and lanterns in their hands were particularly conspicuous, making them look particularly festive in the white snow.
After visiting relatives, it’s time to get busy again. Red lanterns are hung on the doors of every house, and the courtyard screen wall is no exception. They are filled with vegetable oil, put on wicks, and carved out of carrots. All kinds of candles and steamed buns in various zodiac shapes were placed, and everything was bright and festive. On the 15th day, the town organizes and the villagers take action, play social fire, walk on stilts, set up a stage to sing opera, and wash away the hard work of the year in various ways. The hard work of the year is finally over. As spring approaches, the fields and countryside There are many more busy villagers on the road, working hard with the farmers day after day, looking forward to the beginning of the new year.
Things in memory are always unforgettable, just like an old wall calendar that I occasionally want to look through to find memories of the passing years and memories of the past. And the memory of my hometown is like a pot of old wine, which is mellow and delicious, and there is always an endless taste. The memory of my hometown is also a spiritual picture that can never be fully described, because there is the root of my blood, the source of my birth and nourishment, and there is also a strong nostalgia and a touch of nostalgia in my memory.