The best memories of childhood are the grove, catching old doves in the spring, and when the cicadas are singing in the summer, we start catching monkeys under the trees.
During the day, the monkey likes to hide under the ground, you need to bend down, search carefully, it looks like a small inconspicuous hole, and it looks like the skin is very thin, you gently use your hand to cut, this small hole becomes bigger and bigger, this is the monkey's hole. This thing is particularly clever, under the ground, the hole has already been dug, only a small opening is exposed, waiting for the night to climb out. In this small wood, the little friends are bent over, hunched over, searching over and over again, the small partners next to them suddenly crouch down, with their hands to pick up, attracting several small partners to watch, even if they are not cut out by themselves, it is also enjoyable to see the action of the buckle. Occasionally I found it myself, and the surprise was self-evident. When the hole is getting bigger and bigger, you put your index finger into the hole, and the monkey will use its claws to climb up along your fingers, and the monkey in the hand will scratch and crawl in the palm of your hand, and its sharp claws will scratch you a little itchy, a little painful, but it is particularly enjoyable. If you catch only one, when you get home, you will buckle it up with a bowl. After a while, you open the bowl again, it quietly becomes the know, just changed out of the know tender green tender green, crystal clear, not a moment slowly turned gray, black, the wings become hard, look badly it flapped its wings and flew away. If you catch too much, put them in salt water, and the next morning, you can eat a beautiful meal, good meat is delicious, is every child's favorite.
As it gets darker, the monkeys will sneak out of the hole and find a nearby tree to climb up. As it got darker, we stopped looking for holes and started looking for them in the trees. We would circle each tree and look carefully from bottom to top, for fear of being accidentally slipped away by the monkey. Coming to a thick tree, suddenly a monkey, stretched its six limbs, elongated its body, quickly climbed up, quickly took it down, and harvested it again. So every time I walked under this tree, I would always look at the place where the monkey had just climbed, and dreamed that there was another one climbing. It was childish to think about it.
It wasn't until I heard my mother's shout again: "Creek, come back to eat-- " Did I reluctantly return home. After dinner, the mother and sister-in-law said, "Let's go and catch it, right?" "At that time, I didn't understand, it was so dark, how to catch it?" Knowing that they all had a pair of wings, they flew fast, and with a "squeak" sound, they flew from this tree to that tree. With a mysterious smile, we set off together. When I came to the grove, my mother found a handful of wheat straw and lit a fire, and I was wondering why I wanted to light it? The sister-in-law found a tree and began to kick it, only to hear the "squeaking-" sound of the tree flying around, and a group of people who knew the cracking and snapping flew to the fire. I applauded happily at the side.
Now that I think about it, knowing it all summer has brought me so many surprises and so much joy. This summer, I took my son to the small forest of my hometown to catch monkeys, but I always felt that there was something less, and the feeling of childhood, maybe only better in the memory.