Although the country roads at that time were simple, they all reflected an unspeakable beauty; Although there is no decent road and the main road is only an ancient stone road paved by generations, in summer, we children simply step on it barefoot and run and play. Most of the paths between villages are covered with yellow mud and gravel. Walking on it in rainy days, wet yellow mud will splash all over your trousers.
The country road is very narrow, and the biggest one can only hold a cart. Rice is planted on both sides of the path, and along the rice field is a long ditch, which is a channel for water diversion. On weekdays, there is a long stream of water, which is the hope of farmers' harvest; There are lush longan trees, litchi trees and loquat trees on the dry land, with green and fragrant flowers in spring and rich fruits in autumn; The vegetable garden around the path is a striking tender green. Occasionally there are several different colors, and wild flowers are greeting you. They burst into confident smiles on the path, emitting bursts of fragrance, which made the passers-by feel refreshed and tireless, and the intoxicating fragrance also intoxicated the hard-working farmers passing by.
On these country lanes, countless villagers passed by, including old rural people holding old cows in the twilight, rural girls swinging black and thick braids, strong young people carrying a heavy bucket, and naive children spinning "round iron rings". On these narrow and winding country roads, a cheerful ballad is sung every day. These cheerful songs sing beautiful stories in spring and abundant harvests in autumn, and float to distant fields with farmers' good wishes.
The long country road is an extension of dreams, extending a kind of affectionate sustenance between villages, like flowers; These gorgeous colors are changing the light of the years, shining in the dazzling spring in March, and depicting a colorful and harmonious pastoral in a peaceful and quiet beauty. On the long country road, there are countless country stories, singing the songs of ancient villages. Cooking smoke permeates the dreams of villagers, drifting to the long white clouds, to the ancient villages, to the fields of hope, and to the mountains and rivers in the countryside.
The long country road is a song of life. In ancient stories, poems of years, clear streams, diaries of life and compositions of years, there is a scarecrow in the countryside, guarding the happy future of this beautiful country in the field.
When I was a child, I liked the beauty and length of country roads best. Especially in spring, peach blossoms, rape blossoms and wild flowers compete to open, red as chardonnay, yellow as gold, white as clouds, in clusters, one by one, one by one, running along long paths to the fields and the horizon. At this time, walking on the path, such as taking a raft to swim in the sea of flowers, is refreshing and intoxicated!
Now there are fewer and fewer familiar paths, replaced by wide cement roads and asphalt roads. In addition to joy, a strong attachment arises spontaneously: the country road that deeply branded my footsteps may disappear from the ground without a trace, but it will still be deeply imprinted in my memory and engraved in my heart.