On the river in my hometown, my handprint was crossed, my handprint was left on the paddle, my laughter was taken away on the shallow waves, and countless songs were hidden on the bluestone board I walked by. I didn't know the land in my hometown was salty until I ate my own eggplant. In spring, spring thunder explodes, the grass green on the slope penetrates my hometown, red flowers are dotted in the green bushes, and children who come to the mountains for a picnic fill the silent Shan Ye. In summer, when cicadas are chirping among leaves, people go to the Qingjiang River to feel "a cool summer"; When the wheat is ripe, the farmers spread it out in their yards and beat it rhythmically. Sweat rolled down from their foreheads, but their faces were still filled with the joy of harvest. When you are tired, drink some tea under the eaves, chat with people, and then continue to work until dusk. How rich and happy it is. ...
I hope it helps you, hehe. )