Suddenly want to escape. Don't call me weak. At least, I have the courage to escape.
So I came to this unknown mountain village in the north. The alley is sparsely populated, and the bumpy dirt road is like a patched poem. In addition to an agricultural tractor whizzing by, bringing up a lot of dust, there are a group of frolicking children. Only rhubarb dog called twice with malicious intent, and the owner didn't know where it was, so he immediately drank it back. I'm just wandering around, my mood is calm, my mouth is as quiet as the sky, my legs are walking slowly, my body is so light, and I feel that I won't be tired no matter how far I walk.
The alley was quiet, so quiet that I gave up the gorgeous sentence I just thought of. Here, tea has nothing to do with culture, wine has nothing to do with taste, and clothes have nothing to do with self-cultivation. Sunbathing in bask in the quilt on sunny days and watching TV on rainy days have nothing to do with mood. As you sow, you reap. This is a year's harvest and has nothing to do with others.
Although it is August, the trees are still green, and two ox carts or tricycles are allowed to pass side by side in the wide alley. It is no exaggeration to call it a narrow alley. Most people have a vegetable field enclosed by a fence, and many of them use natural elms or poplars as barriers, which not only saves the length of the fence but also looks beautiful. There are also walls made of bricks and tiles, on which some ceramic pipes are stacked. Some of them are clean and tidy, and some climb green vines. What makes my eyes shine most is four or five small gardens scattered at random, which generally grow on both sides of the aisle leading to the house from the gate. There are also many flower lovers who plant flowers one after another by the fence. From a distance, it is like tying a colorful silk scarf to the house, which is both beautiful and warm. Walking outside the fence, I stopped and looked at the flowers carefully. Flowers are a little single, mostly red, yellow and white, almost all small broken flowers the size of a baby's palm. I can't name them, but they must be very lively flowers. Just look at them covered with a fine layer of gray leaves and dry soil under my feet.
Six or seven oxen, wearing nose rings, were tied under several intertwined willows and locust trees at a distance, with lush green grass and faintly visible feces piled under their hooves, chasing flies with their tails, twisting their necks and swinging bells to wander between Shan Ye. A scalper suddenly found me and looked at me with clear eyes. I was stunned. What pure eyes that are! As if to say: hello, who are you? It seems like the first time we met, right? I just stood there, my heart suddenly cramped: can my childhood heartbeat really come back?
Strawberries with lush leaves covered the ground, and the looming pink fruit blinked like a child's eyes in the sun. Not far away, leek flowers attract bees, flowers after flowers are busy, ants are still foraging around, and strawberries are its forest. I suddenly suspect that turning a blind eye is a very happy thing. Some people envy those short-lived animals. I think: if I die just after my childhood, I will be the happiest, although I regret it. However, it seems that this is not the case. No matter how short the life span of small animals is, they still have to go through puberty, middle age, old age and eventually die.
A strawberry sneaked out of the fence and urged me to pick it without hesitation for no reason. I bit a row of teeth marks on strawberries, and suddenly I couldn't bear to eat like this. I put it in the palm of my hand and watched it again and again until I smiled, remembering that I always ravaged crispy noodles at that time. Your little hands together, looking at me eagerly, as if to say: how much! I suddenly bit off the strawberry, hmm! How sweet!
Suddenly laugh, no sound, no way.
Suddenly I wanted to sing, skipping and smelling the little flowers, yellow, pink and lavender. The flowers said to me: They are all children of the stars.
Suddenly I remembered my home, my childhood, the sky cleared up suddenly, butterflies fell in love with Xia Guang suddenly, swallows chirped suddenly in spring ... I smiled. Is this happiness?
It was not until it was getting late that I stopped at a lake. The setting sun is as bright as a flower, and the lake is halved by blue sky and white clouds. As soon as the breeze is sent, trees and flowers are also swaying, deep and shallow, thick and light, red, yellow, blue and green, folded and folded, foggy and light smoke. For a moment, it was like a fantasy. ...
I am infatuated again. At that moment, I just thought: just turn it into a mossy stone and lie quietly on the ground; It just turns into colorful water drops, which slowly passes by with time; It becomes a leaf and dances with the sunset. ...
The village moistens my soul like a drizzle, and I am a mirror. I know I still have to face a complicated life, but I have reason to believe that tomorrow will be better, and I have always believed it.
Ps: absolutely original. It takes a lot of effort.