This winter has been very snowy and extremely cold. The thick snow on the fields was lonely and flat. The wind carried the snow particles and curved them into ripples of white waves, as if the bright and fluffy butter on a big cake was about to overflow. The poplar belts and pine forests glowed lavender in the sunlight, swaying one after another, as misty as the clouds, wandering in the sight.
Go to Taipingshan Village to apply for state subsidies for the elderly over seventy years old for my old father. There were many cars on the road, and the wind driven by the wheels drove away the snow, which was packed neatly on the side of the road, as if someone had swept it up. Just after passing Baoshan Development Zone, there were more scars on the road, and the car started to bump and make a pleasant scream. Accidentally, a group of sparrows flew away. Their small, round figures, like fat commas, chirped extremely delicately. I was so surprised that there were still living things in such a boring winter! Pull over and come down to find them. The air was cool and fresh, and my nostrils bulged greedily, which made me feel sore and numb after a while. The sparrows were brown, jumping on the branches, huffing and flying away, and a group came again, playing and rubbing. A few came down boldly and tentatively, and landed at my feet, looking for food as if no one was around. The calves, which are like needles, are kicking in a rustling way. I stepped forward and cracked open the snow. There was a grain of sorghum and a chaff hidden in the cracks of the black soil.
Reluctantly, where did so many sparrows come from? The car continued to drive forward and saw the Changfa Grain Storehouse. Those grain storehouses built along the side of the road, with mottled and dark walls, were still standing there almost twenty years ago. The mouth of the long-armed cart was placed at the entrance of the grain store. The conveyor belt carried corn and rumbled into it, emitting wisps of light smoke. In those years, the grain depot did not have such advanced machines. The corn was packed into sacks weighing 200 kilograms and set up as a springboard next to the grain depot. The old father and many workers carried the sacks and stepped on the springboard, working day after day, sweating. Sprinkled on the wooden springboard, it shines like water. As we got closer, there was a line of grain delivery trucks lined up at the gate of the grain depot. The carriages of the four-wheel carts were all wrapped in colorful strips of cloth and packed with cornstarch, which was yellow. Several grain sellers chatted together, and their armpits were filled with tears. I picked up a hemp silk sling and fluttered the long tassel to drive away two magpies with white bellies and pointed tails. They came one behind the other, hooting and saying hello, and flew to the roadside wall, still nostalgic. Looking around. I looked at them. From a distance, they were still there, not caring about the cold wind.
To the south of the crossroads of Changfa Town, there is an old Kangjin Road. Once Suilan Road was opened to traffic, it became a rural road. It was in disrepair for a long time, and the sandy and gravel roads bloomed, and there were pits when the snow fell. Unfair. The poplar trees on both sides of the road look like a group of old men, stooped, suffering from coughing and asthma, and losing all their teeth. Perhaps they are older, gentler in temperament, and have the heart of a Bodhisattva. They are holding a fluffy magpie nest among the branches. As the car passed by, there were chirps from time to time: Ho ho - ho ho - ho ho - the magpies danced gracefully, flying around the poplar trees and the road. When they reached the intersection, they crossed with a grain delivery truck. The sunken road surface The four-wheeled vehicle made a clanging sound, and the golden corn grains jumped out in clusters as if they had wings. With a huff, a group of magpies flew over, vying to peck at the food. Each one had a round belly and flailing arms, looking like they couldn't carry it.
Taipingshan Village is my hometown, and my uncle’s brother still lives there. Close your eyes, you can see the village going from front to back and back to the house, the Zhang family is next to the Luo family, the Shan family is raising cattle, the Wang family is full of fat pigs, the Han family's reed hens are hiding in the cracks of the firewood stacks to lay eggs, and the banker's big black dog can catch mice. , every scene came out, so familiar and cordial. I walked along the road behind the house and passed through this village. There is a village committee in Xitun. The young man working in the office filled out the information on the computer, checked it with me, and asked the old father to wait. When the subsidy is released, he will be notified to pick it up. While he was turning the mouse, I glanced around and saw that there were so many elderly people over seventy years old in Taipingshan Village. Their lives had improved and people were living longer. Even the magpies, which were rarely seen before, actually flew in in groups. They are auspicious birds. If they sing in front of someone's house, good things are coming.
Go back, change the road and take Suilan Road. Not long after we got on the road, an old man drove a group of sheep over. The car stopped and gave way. Clumps of light green spikes sprouted from the snow on the roadside. Hey, I walked over, and the snow was up to my knees. When I peeled off the snow, I saw a big cabbage field full of people. Cabbage is cheap in autumn, costing only a few cents per catty. It is not enough to hire workers to harvest the cabbage from this field, so the owner has no intention of harvesting it. Each cabbage has a small heart standing upright, shining brightly. When I turned around, the sheep gathered around the old man, raising their necks and looking at me silently, like a bunch of greedy children, timidly staring at the food. They thought I was the owner of these dishes. I left the vegetable field and waved with a smile. The sheep got permission and ran over happily, licking the heart of the vegetable with their pink lips, tilting their necks, shaking their heads, and making constant clicking sounds. I seemed to hear the piece of vegetables. The earth is laughing, and its fruits nourish a group of living beings.
Passing two villages and getting on the road in the fields, a black crow flew by, quack quack - quack quack - a childhood experience, there must be a cemetery nearby, crows like that place , eerie, calling day and night. Look left and right, slow down the car and look for it. There is not a trace of black in the white snow. A ridge of corn seedlings was swaying in the wind, with icicles hanging from the pale yellow dead leaves, and some even carrying corn kernels on their backs. Oh, I know, this is the "stem station" in the field, the grain left by the farmers for the living. A few crows circled, suddenly landed on the corn seedlings, and jumped around.
A group of crows followed my car. I couldn't bear it, so I looked at the drawer in the car, dug out a few biscuits, crumbled them, and threw them to them. Sure enough, they stopped, searched on the road, and ate them happily.
Heavy snow has covered the land, and the creatures can always find food. They are smart and blessed, and they will have more care.