Essay: Juvenile time in the sound of cicadas / Li Xingjia
In the height of summer, the heat is unbearable. There was no trace of wind, the air seemed to condense, but the cicadas crouched on the willow trees and sang the old song loudly, sharp and piercing, noisy, calling me irritable in the heat, calling me restless in the sleep. Maybe it is the reason for "long listening to boredom, long stay annoying", at this time the intermittent cicada chirping, neither the refreshing of light music, no lark tact, nor the comfort of Koizumi Dingdong, so I always feel that it is monotonous, ugly, and even harsh, always feel a little less comfortable and romantic of youth.
Since ancient times, the sound of cicadas has attracted the affection of countless literati. In the Song Dynasty, Zhu Xi wrote a verse in the "Nan'an Daozhong" that "the high cicada rhymes far away, and the mao tree has aftersound", and the Tang Dynasty poet Liu Yuxi has "Qing Yin Xiao Dew Leaves, Sorrowful Sunset Branches" in the "Reward Order Fox Xiang Gong New Cicada Sees the Mail". Suddenly, the strings were broken, and the Russian smell pipe was uneven..., du Mu had a worry after listening to the cicadas, "I don't dare to pour my ears frequently, only worry about white occurrence". I think that the little cicada has no sorrows, but in the literati, infinite reverie and sorrow have emerged. I prefer "bright moon don't branch magpies, the breeze in the middle of the night cicadas." Rice blossom incense said a good year, listen to the sound of frogs a piece of poetry, this is a good memory left to me by my youth.
Summer in the countryside is wonderful, especially on summer nights. At this time, I can enjoy an auditory feast, the cicadas squeak, the frogs, and the sounds of these natural ensembles are like a musical evening, and they are pure natural and additive-free performances, accompanying me through the carefree youth.
When I was a teenager, I naturally did not have the Yaxing of the literati rioters, and more innocent and stubborn. I love catching the thrill of cicadas. There are many ways to catch cicadas, some people like to use gluten, take a long bamboo pole, tie a lump of gluten at the thin end, stick to the thin cicada wings of the cicada with the help of gluten stickiness, stick the cicadas that are glued, and no matter how they struggle, they can't escape; some people like to use the mesh cover to fix a basket at one end of the bamboo pole, but this method often does not work, and the cicadas will fly away vigilantly without waiting for the basket to approach; and I like to use the horse's tail hair to fix a wire at the top of a long bamboo pole, bending the wire into a crescent shape. Then tie a horsetail hair on the crescent-like wire, tie the other end of the horsetail hair into a living knot, and a simple cicada catching tool is made. Quietly sneaking to the bottom of the tree, gently lifting the bamboo pole, slowly approaching the cicada with the cover of dense branches and leaves, and using the horse's tail hair with a loose knot to pluck the front paws of the cicada, at this time, the cicada will mistake the horse's tail hair for the same kind of the opposite sex, and keep stirring, the living knot will follow the trend to tighten the cicada's claw, so that a cicada was captured by me.
Later, in high school biology class, I had a deep understanding of cicadas. Only then did I know how tragic the cicada's life was! For the most glorious ten days of its life, it will look forward to more than ten years in the dark and boundless soil. There is no sunlight, no air, just boundless darkness. Knowing that after the excavation is the end of life, but also for the sake of that life of the sound of accumulation of strength, phoenix nirvana, rebirth, feathering into immortals, to meet the glory of a lifetime! Seeing this, I am very annoyed by the ignorance of my youth!
Although the end of my life is the return of the soul to the homeland, I will be like a cicada in the future, leaving the bustling people, disappearing, turning into dirt, but even if it is short-lived, I must bloom infinitely wonderful in a limited life, and let life be brilliant!
At this time, the fiery red sun faded from the top of the mountain in the sky, but the heat refused to follow, and the air was hot and humid, and it seemed to be able to wring out the water. The treetops tiptoed up and stretched their necks, trying to break free of the heat. A low cicada chirp came from the trees beside the street, and I looked at the sound, and in the shadows of the trees, a small cicada was lying on the rough bark, whispering from time to time, singing about the summer dusk, singing the natural sound of the sunset.
One point number Nishan cloth