The road to my uncle's house is a loess road with potholes. Grandma pulled me with a tricycle, leaned forward and kicked my legs hard. The car seems to have springs. After a while, my bones will fall apart. The sun is high in the sky, and there are no trees by the roadside. I was so hot sitting in the car that my grandmother was sweating. Suddenly, a tractor caught up with us, and a cloud of yellow smoke rolled in and wrapped my grandmother and me tightly. I dare not open my eyes or breathe. After a long loess storm, a layer of dust fell on us.
Not long ago, grandma took me to my uncle's house again. I am afraid at the thought of overwhelming loess. Who knows that road has already changed. From a distance, you can only see a shiny asphalt road, which is wide and tidy. On both sides of the road, there are a row of tall and straight poplars. A big truck passed by, ah, there was no dust at all. A cool breeze blew, and the leaves of poplar swooped down, as if clapping my hands to welcome me to the new countryside.