Really, I want to praise the swallow. When others praise gorgeous and fragrant flowers, silent autumn leaves and deep and desolate starry sky, I want to praise the messenger of spring, the most common and ordinary swallow in our northern countryside!
All morning, I stood motionless in the sun, staring at a pair of swallows nesting under the eaves. I don't know whether I was afraid to disturb them or shocked by their feat. I held my breath and stared as if I were experiencing a great and sacred moment.
Obviously, these two little guys just flew back from the south and don't know much about the situation. They scouted around my house for a few days. Every time I see them whizzing past my window, I can't help but hope that they will fold their wings and stop on the wire, but they still fly away, leaving a shadow of a soul, a claw bag, which makes me wonder-isn't my residence auspicious?
They are as quiet as dust in the wind, as swift as black lightning and as elegant as delicate paper kites. I know they are passers-by in front of my door, but how I hope they can walk into the room and become elegant guests and distinguished guests in my seat. I watched them fly around every day, looking forward to the next meeting. I even secretly made a wish that if they can live next door to me, I would like to be their volunteer.
Maybe my sincerity was captured by them, maybe there is some kind of induction between birds and people, maybe it is impossible at all. The carefree swallows finally made their choice-to settle down under my smooth tiled roof.
The tile seems to be smiling with malicious intent. This new building material has brought trouble to our little swallow. They brought nearby grass leaves as soft as cow hair grass and cricket beard, and fell on the vegetable field in the yard like stones, almost wetting them with saliva in their mouths. They sway their marbles-like brown heads from side to side, making the grass stick to the mud and turn it into mud. Then I flapped my wings and flew under the eaves, like two shivering leaves in autumn, like a worker who concentrated on his work on a high scaffold, and like two helicopters hovering in the air. They are light-footed, like two flying flowers, but you will never treat them as flowers. They are more like flames, the burning flames of life. They picked up the "mud" that fell on the ground again and again on the wall that stood like a cliff, and then, once again, they got up the courage and put it back. Sticking the first piece of mud is as difficult as building the Great Wall of Wan Li like a knife on the ridge and erecting a high well on the blue sea. The whole nest will be built in turn from this new mud, and the thickness of the nest is only one centimeter all morning. It still looks like a triangular mud dish on the wall, full of ditch marks combed by swallows with their mouths
"A few early warblers fight for the warmth of the trees, but who pecks at the spring mud?" This is the poet's poetic description of the splendid spring scenery, but I think it is the poet's evaluation of the different personalities of Britain and Yan ―― Britain's calmness, glitz and narrowness, and Yan's simplicity, diligence and persistence, which are vividly expressed in the poet's works. These lively and lovely swallows are reminiscent of farmers who work hard on the land in spring. How can people not respect those farmers who nest like swallows?
All morning, I witnessed the greatest foundation laying ceremony besides human beings. Although there are no gongs and drums, no colorful flags, no salute and no crowds watching the ceremony ... it will not reduce its wonderful index, its dangerous coefficient and its outstanding achievements at all!
I am deeply ashamed, too. In the attitude towards life, on the road of life, in the process of pursuing ideals, facing setbacks and blows, facing opportunities and challenges, didn't Swallow give me a vivid lesson? It is indomitable, persistent and indomitable. Aren't these beautiful qualities the spiritual portrayal of our nation's enduring and rebirth? With this spirit, in the tide of economy, science and technology and information, isn't it more like an elite of an era?
Swallow is really not an ordinary bird. I want to praise you loudly!