See also the article of Lihua. In spring, pear blossoms are in full bloom, white in color, like snowflakes, with a faint fragrance. It can also be used for brewing wine, making pear paste, preserved pear and medicine. In addition, literati like to describe pear flowers. Let's enjoy the article about pear blossoms.
See also the article 1 written by Lihua in March, where the flower-like scenery falls with a bang in the years. I heard its lonely sigh in the colorful autumn of English. If you meet, why do you have to leave? If you have it, why lose it?
Pear blossoms, heartbroken, a thousand glasses of wine. When wine enters sorrow, it turns into acacia tears. Because, pear flower, has been blooming in this brilliant season, has been fading in this brilliant season. Bloom in the spring breeze, wither in the spring breeze, this is fate, people have no solution, has nothing to do with the years. A pot of Huangteng wine can't make you drunk in spring, and you can't keep the years. I poured myself a cup, and I was relieved. Finally, I left with a smile. Just like those flowers that don't bear fruit, they quietly fall and disappear into the world of mortals.
A road to study, a lonely scenery. Everyone will face the Jianghu when they grow up. It is not a misty Xizi Lake, nor is it a spring mountain with bells ringing. I walked out of those mountains and finally saw the other side of the mountain I dreamed of when I was young. On the other side of the mountain, it's still a mountain. There are no immortals and no monsters. It's just, strange people. Amid the noise, the boy with a dream is also dying in a hurry.
Peach and plum spring breeze, a glass of wine, ten years of night rain. I have been away from home for more than ten years since I started studying, and the rivers and lakes are full of storms.
In this silent valley, I saw a white tree blooming quietly. Don't argue with peaches and plums, don't argue with cherry blossoms, the sky is high and the clouds are light. I was born alone, blooming and falling in the metabolism of spring and autumn. Even though I am lonely, I enjoy it.
Suddenly I miss the snow-white tree in my hometown and the time when it bloomed. However, I am getting farther and farther away from them, and there is only one glass of wine to think about.
Just like March, you hear the lonely sigh!
See also the second chapter of Pear Blossom Blossom. In the sun, pale pear blossoms quietly.
Raise your eyes, flowers are like snow. Clusters of white flowers, either spitting leisurely or in bud, are set off by three or two delicate leaves and dotted with branches. Or sparse, or dense, or thick, or light. One color is beautiful and refined, and the other color is elegant and holy.
Between a frown and a smile, a faint fragrance came to my face. Peace, quiet. When pear blossoms are in full bloom, the tranquility and nature of life are beyond words. Some smoky past events are filled with memories in an instant.
In my childhood home, there was such a pear flower. Pear trees with thick bowls always produce white pears every spring. Bees are buzzing and birds are singing. However, for children, love for flowers is far less than hope for fruit.
After a flying snow, those little green fruits, like playing hide-and-seek with us, quietly lurk in the depths of green leaves. Under the pear tree, a pair of eyes are like torches, searching and counting. Looking forward to eagerly, waiting. Thumb! Big fist! ! Childhood, also because of pears, with this long watch, every day is full of endless fun.
However, the process of growth is also a process of baptism. After the storm, the fallen fruits lie quietly in our sorry eyes, which always makes people sigh more and feel more helpless. However, the pear is still there and hope is still there. Even if it is only a handful of three or five, it will not live up to the affectionate promise of spring.
When autumn comes, pears in Huang Chengcheng are bulging and swaying in the branches. Pick pears! Surrounded by cheering children, my father carried a long wooden ladder and put it on a tall pear tree. One by one, carefully pick all the pears. Cleaning, peeling and dicing. We have washed our hands. Pak Lei meat, one for each person. Sweet and delicious, hold it in your hand and put it in your mouth, and you can't bear to swallow it for a long time. After so many years, every time I recall, the lingering fragrance between my mouth and teeth still evokes emotional swallowing from time to time.
Time flies. Pears and pears are yellow. In the interweaving of light and shadow, the days still pass like water.
And those pear blossoms in my life are not ups and downs, not memories, but unforgettable eternity.
See also the article Three Pears Blossom. Pears are very white. From a distance, it looks like a quietly burning snow.
That's my uncle's pear garden.
My second uncle and grandma lived together all the year round and were assigned to a poor mountain area. Sorghum, corn and soybeans cannot be planted. After careful consideration, he decided to open it up and plant some pear trees.
My uncle has a round waist and thick arms. But in order to dig a mountain, almost every hoe can touch a stone on a mountain where grass can't grow, and it is very trembling. His chin is cracked, and my grandmother looks miserable. She kindly advised him not to dig, saying that if it is barren, it will be barren and nothing can be planted.
My second uncle, who walked all the way to the end, was slightly injured and began to ask grandma to deliver food. My mother went to my grandmother's house several times in her spare time. As soon as I came back, I was afraid of being robbed by others, saying that my uncle was tanned like an African and lost a lot of meat like a monkey. That mountain area has been deserted for as long as my mother can remember. Wind and rain, sunshine and frost, nothing has changed. A small hillside, like a long life. Mother said, her face darkened and she looked at me. On weekdays, I make her angry, and that's what she does. Her eyes burn like two fires, which makes me warm all over.
I don't believe my mother is poor in words. I only heard her say, Rong Er, you must live up to expectations. After a pause, I was still a little angry, and my voice rose a little: bully, bully, bully to make a fortune. In our country, everyone cooks with a stove. The place where spoons represent people is higher than other places.
My second uncle, Songshan, was afraid that the heavy rain would wash away the mud, so he drove a few piles downstream and made several rows of bamboo sticks, waiting for the next spring.
In winter, my uncle has the final say at home. If the pear trees are planted densely, the roots will hurt each other and affect the growth of the trees. It is a waste of effort to plant sparingly and bear little fruit. For this matter, he worried for several days and went to the Agricultural College.
My uncle, who doesn't know every word, brought back a copy of Fruit Farmers' Planting Techniques. I wonder if he chewed it off. In Cui's spring, he bought some pear seedlings from the farm and planted them well. And none of them are fake, and new branches have grown in a few months.
My second uncle is very happy. In the barren mountainous area, the competition is intensive, and a thatch grows as fast as flying. He wandered around for a long time and couldn't think of any details. He had to crouch down, pick them up one by one, then hold them in the sun, pile them up and burn them.
In June of that year, I took the college entrance examination. Fortunately, I was admitted to a university. Hearing this, my second uncle came to my house and said with a big smile, when you graduate, my pear tree will bear fruit, and I will pick the sweetest one for you. I am also very satisfied. If you want to eat pears in the future, you can go to my uncle's pear garden.
As long as I can remember, every time my uncle came back to my house, he always walked a long way to the street and took some pears. I don't know when chromium got the root of the disease. If something goes wrong, I will cough a few times, but it's not bad. Mother didn't take it to heart, but my uncle hung it to heart.
My second uncle can beat wood. During the slack season, his parents asked him to make a wooden bench and a square table, and some even asked him to dig a hoe. For bigger jobs, he can also spell out a bunk bed and a low cabinet in a week. It's all his neighbor's. He doesn't charge. To thank him, I gave him something from time to time, but he always scrimped and saved and often went to my house.
As soon as the winter vacation was over, I packed my things and went home early. I always want to visit my uncle's pear garden. In fact, my family only needs to walk a short distance to my grandmother's house, copy a short rural building, pass an ancient tower, turn a corner and bypass a pond with several acres of land, about two kilometers. However, I won't have a chance to go to my grandmother's house until the holiday. Although I've always wanted to eat my grandmother's Osmanthus Jelly.
My uncle's pear garden sparkled in Niang's words. Mother said that there was a man in the pear tree, who was very tall and had branches and leaves like an open umbrella. In a few days, after the flower test, the pear will bear fruit. I have to wait. It used to be like a loach, but now it climbs like a snail.
In the orchard, my second uncle learned to prune and shorten. But there are no pests.
My second uncle has fed dozens of pear trees, but he can't feed a woman. Grandma made a blind date with him and happily went to visit the bride and make trouble in the bridal chamber. Only after three days and one morning, the woman picked up several sets of clothes and ran away without knowing the details.
Only once, when my second uncle was walking in the street, I saw a woman who looked like my second uncle's mother, because it was a little far away and there were many people. My second uncle opened his voice and shouted, and the woman hurried down an alley. When juwan caught up with him, only the wind blew eagerly from his ear.
Pear blossoms turned white. That spring, I was busy writing my graduation thesis and looking for a company. In mid-June, I came to Dabaoshan Mine smoothly.
Mother asked someone to write a letter and post it. She said that my second uncle was in poor health and often went to the township health center to get medicine. He also said that pear trees bear fruit, rich and green, and only one hangs on the tree, which is exquisite and lovely. And I, in the north stope, with the workers of the blasting class, can do nothing but silently bless and pray.
The world needs a heavy snow to cover its soul.
Grandma slept soundly one night and left peacefully. After a few months, my second uncle was in unbearable pain. In the spring of my second year in the mine, he waited until the pear blossoms blossomed and he died. I went back and agreed to bury my uncle under the pear tree and let him live in the spring. I didn't cry the day of the funeral. I just stared at the white of the pear tree branches, ferocious and timid. In white, I saw my uncle's face, which looked very handsome.
In order not to make mom too sad, sad. I took her to the mine, but she couldn't let go of my uncle's pear garden. Not that it's time to water or fertilize, but also to remember my uncle's good.
After all, mom wants to go back. But dad may love his eldest brother's son so much that he hasn't returned to his hometown for several years. Dad didn't come back the day my uncle left. My mother is going to live with my father. My uncle doesn't know what he said wrong, which makes my father hate it. I was not at ease, so I made an excuse to stop it.
What kind of ice and snow can penetrate to reach his grave? Tomb-Sweeping Day, too. I accompanied my mother home to visit relatives, and my father came back. Father is much older, and he is trembling when he walks. He has prepared some paper money for her to take him to see my second uncle and ask for forgiveness.
On my second uncle's grave, a pear tree grew. Mother walked over and said, second brother, my family saw you coming. Mother said, kneeling down, and the sky hung low.
Pear is white, and pear is really white. I helped my father, but time passed slowly.