52 years ago, in the eastern suburbs of Jingdezhen, Jiangxi, at the foot of Nanshan Mountain, where the aviation industry helicopter is located, the pioneers planted a small plane tree. From rooting, budding, growing thick and straight branches, the sun and wind and rain along the way, this plane tree silently witnessed.
People here affectionately call it the "Treasure Tree". Great beauty is speechless, and its companionship, like air, like a breeze. Always in the morning, afternoon, at a certain moment in the evening, jump into the line of sight, into the atrium, and pull out the emotions that have not been touched for a long time.
Twelve years ago, the Tianjin area of the helicopter station was an empty saline land. As office buildings rose from the ground, in the open space between the buildings, people planted a small sapling in a small piece of land.
It was a begonia, it looked inconspicuous, whispering in the wind, accumulating energy in time.
Until this spring, it bloomed with flowers as a landscape. The upright figure seemed to be competing with the sky, white flowers, green leaves, tightly hugged and warm fragrance. Its beauty attracts flower-viewing people to come under the tree, get close to it, talk to it.
The plane tree and the begonia had never met, but they listened to each other's news from the people who walked by, bringing each other's sincere greetings.
Sycamore is 52 years old. At this age, he knew his destiny, but he was still curious. His well-developed root system stores the code of memory, layered in a box. Opening the boxes became his pleasure at this age.
One of the boxes, he often looked through. It contains the youthful faces of young people who have been new to the institute for 52 years.
He remembered that no matter how old they were, on the first trip, they would always walk under the tree and run to the office building, the testing ground, the apartment.
At first, they were dressed plainly, and the khaki Zhongshan suit and the army green canvas bag seemed to become the standard. Their facial features are stretched, with fervent hope, a look that characterizes a career from scratch.
The plane tree was often fascinated, but at that time its diminutive size did not attract the interest of young people. They hurriedly walked, leaving it with only a look, a back shadow, and a few words of exclamation.
After some years, the plane trees grew taller, and there were sporadic shades of greenery in the sun on a good day.
In the plain black, gray and blue, it finally saw the goose yellow floral skirt of the really good cloth, the sky blue striped navy shirt, flared pants, sunglasses, the fashionable beauty came to the face, and the plane tree was happy.
Their footsteps are no longer hurried, in the summer, under the scattered green shade, they talk very happily, for a cause, the vivid leap has the youth of the dawn of the times.
The plane tree continued to grow, and also stared at the new faces intertwined in time and shade. From the surprise of the year to the increasing composure, it is the restraint brought by age.
Yes, it has never trekked thousands of mountains and rivers, but it has witnessed the young people who have come here across thousands of miles. It wanted to flick their hair and faces, wanted to say a beautiful word, and all its emotions just turned into silent and long gazes. Then, engrave their faces in their hearts.
The begonia tree in the other heaven and earth also had its heart in mind.
It still remembers that early May morning, before dawn, a long whistle broke through the silence, and several large trucks drove into the Tianjin district, and people were busy carrying out a carton-packed computer and placing it in the open space in front of the office building.
It awoke from its slumber, feeling that it had been alone for centuries, growing up silently, accepting the call of the sun and rain, and occasionally the people who walked by seemed to have never seen it.
The sudden noise excited it. It saw that the sky was slightly bright, bright, and people were stepping out of the building one after another, gathering in the open space, and carrying computers in an orderly manner. They lined up in a long line, looking forward to it.
It was so close to them that the procession snaked like a long dragon. A few girls stood beside it, carefully inspecting its blooming flowers. It smelled the fragrance of their hair.
They were all newcomers, excitedly talking about everything here, talking about the upcoming model mission. They also talked about Jingdezhen, the begonia tree that heard the name "Treasure Tree" for the first time, and it felt an emotional connection in the dark. They praised the beauty of its flowers, and they also talked about the treasure tree in the area of dezhen where the helicopter was located.
"Do you remember that the plane tree at the gate must have been there for many years..."
"You see, what kind of tree is this, is it a begonia, and how beautiful the flowers are." If only it were taller, the flowers would be pressed all over the branches, and they would be comparable to the treasure tree. ”
The begonia tree listened to their conversation, and her heart was beautiful and warm. From that day on, it began to miss the plane tree thousands of miles away.
The plane tree still welcomes and sends it every day happily.
The model attack team that goes out in the field always loves to take a group photo under its dense green shade before each departure; on weekend nights, it sees the three friends or couples waiting under the tree, relaxing after hard work, reflecting the golden light in the last afterglow of the sunset.
The location of the plane tree is also a must-pass place for commuting to work, watching the crowd surging, smiling happily, frowning, laughing, and discussing warmly...
It patiently guesses everyone's mind, the results they have gained in their work, and their unrelenting commitment to the helicopter business.
Today, the crowd is no longer as tight as it once was, and it knows that many people have gone to another place on the shore of the Haihe River. In the early morning or dusk, it always likes to meditate in the fine wind, hoping that the wind will bring news of the party's location.
There are continuous technical discussions in the wind, there are lights shining in the night, and there is also a strong thought, carrying the bright smile of the begonia tree in spring.
For the first time in 52 years, the plane tree felt a heart-to-heart imprint thousands of miles away.
Its emotions fluctuated slightly, and it clung to the roots under its feet, which was the refuge of the treasure it had held for 52 years. The tighter the grip, the more you can touch the resonance of another emotion.
"Are they okay in Tianjin?" I haven't been back for a long time. ”
"Oh, you're back, your hair is so long, you don't know it."
"The wind in Tianjin is so strong, and Jingdezhen is in the rainy season again."
Under the plane tree, people chatted carefully, and their faces were slightly red with excitement.
It was eager to grasp every word, to hide those words, those greetings and smiles carried in the wind, into another secret box of memory, to become the basis of its thoughts.
Under the begonia tree, this season's spring becomes the highlight of its life.
In 12 years, it has never imagined that in the spring light, so many fiery footsteps and eyes have gathered. Early in the morning, it shook its spirits, stretched out the petals of rolling dewdrops, and greeted the oncoming people.
At noon, the green leaves glowed in the sun, set off by white flowers and pale yellow buds, breaking into the mind full of data, figures and formulas. At night, there is silence, it waits for the lights of the office building, and falls asleep with the night wind.
It and they, opened the atrium to each other. The begonia tree wants to tell this information to the plane tree under the south mountain of Jingdezhen. When a denser flow of people poured into it, when countless admiring eyes gathered on its leaf petals, green leaves, and branches, when the melody of the wind woven into the closer technical discussion swept by its ears, there was a kind of youthful surging that made it stand tall and shine the leaves.
Heard, heard, heard. In the spring light, this affectionate confession made the plane tree feel nostalgic. It hastily opened the memory box stored in the roots of the soil. When the old cellar meets the skylight, those fragmented pictures and words have melted into a river, flowing into the songs of time. The notes of the dense turn walking are all the melodies of love.
The two trees know each other, and in the years, the collection of savings is only the sound of love. On the banks of the Changjiang River and the Haihe River, people's love for this cause is deep enough and vast enough.
The nourishment of love nourishes growth, and it also becomes the longest love companion and companionship for the aviation industry.
People and trees are the same.