Prose: the release of childhood fun

There are many memorable things in my memory, and I always want to write them down with a pen, so I can chew them carefully when I have time. Every time I think of an interesting thing, I feel like yesterday.

I grew up in the countryside. I am a child who grew up smelling the soil in the countryside. I have constant feelings for rain, wind, the sun and everything in the country.

When I was a child, I was in a period of vigorous political development in the last century. The countryside is a large collective system, which implements the responsibility system of division of labor. Every summer vacation, the production team will distribute the collectively-fed livestock to all households, and the children will raise them, so that they can get the same work points as the highest labor force. For adults, this not only subsidizes families, but also takes care of children, so every family hopes to find a job for their children to put animals at this time of year. Probably because my mother is a cadre of the production team, I can get such an opportunity at this time of year. I was so busy and excited throughout the summer vacation.

I remember one summer, my family was assigned a gentle brown horse. I comb its brown hair brightly and take it to a canal with water to eat aquatic plants before dawn every day. At first, I was afraid to let go with the reins in my hand, for fear that a careless horse would run away. Horses are very human. After a while, they had a tacit understanding. They are very considerate. I can whistle to direct its actions. Sometimes I put a rope around the horse's neck to set it free. I can find a cool place to play with other children and play (a kind of chess in the country, you draw squares on the ground and play chess with sticks or pebbles). Climb the tree to see who is the tallest, or lie down and sleep. When it's time to go home for dinner, my horse will whistle and come to me, then touch the horse's head and pat it gently, and it will follow me obediently.

Once, I tried to get close to him. I combed his hair first, then patted his back, then turned over and walked up. The horse was suddenly surprised, as if reluctant to disobey, and its hoof jumped violently. If it is not careful, it will be thrown down. Fortunately, it is mud, not injured, but it is also full of muscle pain. The horse hissed and stood looking at me as if at a loss. My little temper came. I grabbed the reins and tied it to a tree, trying to teach it a lesson. It happened that an adult stopped me, and it didn't make any noise. I don't want to ride it. At that time, I had just seen the movie Scout, in which there was a scene in which the hero Kuoray led a scout to ride a horse. Heroism left a deep impression on me, and my desire to conquer horses was very strong. One day, I took my horse to a dry land. Because there were no crops in the field, it was dry when it was turned over, so the horse couldn't run, and it didn't hurt anyone when it fell. With the last lesson, this time, after turning over and getting on the horse, I grabbed the horse's mane with one hand and kept my balance with the other. I let the horse jump first and then kick, stick to the horse, hold on tight, fall a few times and step on it again. Slowly, the horse stopped. I was so tired that the horse surrendered.

Riding is very imposing, and the more I practice, the more skilled I become. Once, when I was releasing my horse, I saw a car passing by on the official road, bumping forward. At that time, the road was still built with mud bricks and muck, and the car couldn't run fast on the road. A puff of black smoke came out, which greatly increased my pondering, and I didn't know if there was any danger. I pulled up the horse that was eating grass, rode on it and patted the horse. I want to race the car to see who can run faster. The horse runs smoothly, but it is fast. The wind whistling in my ear is very exciting. When chasing the car, the driver of the car stuck out his head in fear and scolded. I turned my head, made a face at the driver, then slapped the horse, and the bristle fell far behind. This incident was talked about by the children at that time. They regarded me as a hero, but they also had a feeling of drifting with the tide.

Instead of walking by horse, the next step is not only stocking, but also walking the horse. The stocking place is getting farther and farther away, and riding a horse back and forth sometimes has nothing to do with playing. Once I came to an orchard, and the branches were covered with golden banana pears, which was very attractive. I stole one. It was delicious. In order to satisfy my vanity, I should pick more and take them back to my friends to get their praise. So I took off my pants, carried two trouser legs, put the picked fruit in my waistband and hung it on my horse. Even if people who look at the orchard find that as long as they whip the horse, they will disappear without a trace, and they will hold their heads high for a long time.

Life in summer will soon be over. My horse is fat and strong, and it will be praised by the captain when it is handed over to the production team. Although the process of releasing horses seems a bit out of line now, it is also because of their temperament. At that time, rural children didn't have many rules, and they basically grew up by themselves, which is exactly where rural children are happy. It is difficult for children in modern cities to understand and imagine.