Original author: Wang Wenjun | Alxa League, Inner Mongolia
prose
Taste of old houses (2)
Two
After nine cold days of the year, the yang begins to rise and the yin begins to fall. The weather was getting warmer. The desolate and lonely fields of winter also gradually came out of the stiffness —slowly softening a lot. My gaze walked through the unobstructed field and saw the wilderness beyond the field. The wilderness of winter is full of desolation and loneliness, which is a loneliness and desolation that is more disappointing than disappointment. Day and night, looking up at the blue sky in a daze, more eagerly looking forward to spring than hibernating animals.
Whether it is the field, or the wilderness beyond the field, just like us, we have lived in the desolation for a winter. There was a little warmth in the air, and we looked happily at the long-overdue spring. Every year, the first thing I can see about the spring weather is the window on the door of the old house. After Li Chun, Grandma would always urge Grandpa: "You hurry up and open the window on the door, Yan'er should come back." "There is a pair of swallows who have built their nests on the beams of my old house, so we must worry about opening the door for them to go home early every year, otherwise the swallows will not find their home when they return." Every year in the late autumn, it is necessary to wait until the swallow family flies away to the south - it will also wait for a few days, and the swallow family will not return for a few days, and it will be confirmed that it is really flown away before the window sash on the door will be closed with peace of mind. Otherwise, it is not safe to fall asleep. Not everyone will have such a blessing, only those old households swallow to live in a down-to-earth manner. The newcomers who have just moved in, swallows can't look at it at all! I don't see it in my eyes, let alone go to the nest under the eaves. The swallow is a symbol of good fortune in our place, and how many people are eager or expecting the swallow to build a nest in their homes! There is no bird's nest under the eaves of whose house, and there is no shadow of swallows patronizing in the yard, and the clear-eyed people know that this family is not good at a glance.
Every year, we were very careful to open the door for the swallows to go home early. I remember one year, for some reason, the pair of swallows came back a few days late. Seeing the light and cheerful swallows flying around in other people's yards, my heart immediately became anxious and irritable. The worried family looks forward to it every day, as if looking forward to the return of a relative who has been away for a long time. Grandpa often looked up at the spotless sky and sighed, Grandma did not think about tea and rice, sitting at the dinner table with one hand holding her cheeks, holding chopsticks in the other hand in a daze, "Why don't you come back?" Shouldn't it be the wrong way? "Don't worry, maybe something is delayed, wait a few days and come back, you hurry to eat." Grandpa used the head of chopsticks to beat the edge of Grandma's rice bowl to comfort Grandma.
Every winter, I often look at the wilderness in a daze, and my heart is full of doubts--where are the live birds, animals, insects, and butterflies that jump in the wilderness in the summer? The lonely and desolate wasteland hides in the depths of the cold north wind, silent. Everyone in the village was idle, staying at home like a wilderness with nothing to do. The labor in the fields is over, and new labor has not yet begun. The only thing to do was to get up every morning and carry the hay to feed the cattle, sheep, donkeys and horses in the pen. Donkeys, horses and cows had nothing to do, and every day they were full and walked around the village like patrolmen, and then huddled under a wall to bask in the sun.
When we little farts are bored and can't find something to do, we go to "bully" the donkeys who are idle. A group of us surrounded the donkey in the corner of the courtyard wall, caught the donkey and pulled it down under the wall. Then one dragged the donkey, the other climbed the wall and then stretched his legs across the donkey's back, rode steadily, and then "drove-", reached out and slapped the donkey's butt and strolled around the village. This donkey is very ghostly, and when it is unhappy and unwilling to drive you to play, it will always try to get you off the back of the donkey. While you are comfortably relaxing on the back of the donkey, the donkey will deliberately cling to the courtyard wall, the tree stumps, or the tree and grass stacks until it squeezes you off the back of the donkey. If you don't get it right, you'll have to plant a big heel and get up and get up with a dirty face.
The air in the village gradually warmed up. The remaining ice surface in the ditch is also getting thinner. "The ice doesn't make a sound, the ice doesn't collapse..." A group of us encouraged the children to sing happily on the thin ice, while looking at the cracks running around on the ice surface under their feet. Click—" We were stunned at once, and looked around to see Yao Eryi stepping on the ice and stepping into the cold water. We scattered and fled back to the riverbank. Only Yao Er was overwhelmed and stood in the river with a blank face. It provoked the big guy to laugh happily again. The big guys hurriedly brought Yao Er, who was crying and mourning, to the shore, and then picked up some dead branches to light, and helped Yao Er take off his cotton shoes and put them on the fire to bake. Surrounded by a blazing fire, we giggled and laughed with the jumping flames.
In the distance, the willow trees on the river bank seem to be draped in a new green. The wilderness also seemed to have shed its gray and white, and there was some greenery like a dream. We ran like crazy in the soft and warm wind with our own windmills made of sorghum stalks and kraft paper. The windmills swirled happily in our happy laughter. In our joyful laughter, the sound in Han Si's mouth was missing. Han Si was forced by his father to go to the field today to pull dung. "It's still early to go to the ground, other people's families haven't pulled it, why do you have to go now..." Han Siyi's stomach was unhappy and complained, and he pouted and muttered. His donkey also seemed to be in a mood, and very reluctantly stared at Han Si and his father twice, and slowly walked with Han Si into the still deserted field.
The labor in the fields rested in the vast years. Whether it starts or ends, you must listen to the call of the seasons. In the vast field, only Han Si began to work in the wilderness. I knew that the season for Han Si's labor had arrived. And the season of other people's labor is still walking in the distance, and it has not arrived.
On an afternoon after a nap, I accompanied my grandparents to the neighbor's house, gossiping until dusk. On the way, I always felt that someone at home was waiting for us to go back. But I can't guess who it will be? My heart was in a hurry to hurry home. Outside the courtyard wall, I heard the joyful and crisp chirping of swallows coming from inside. "It's the swallows—it's our swallows that flew back..." I jumped out of the door and into the yard in surprise. My grandparents also followed me with joy on their faces, "You slow down, be careful to scare Yan'er." Grandma told me in the back. I pushed open the door of the house slowly, looked up, and saw a pair of delicate and beautiful swallows crouching on the roof beams, combing the shiny and beautiful feathers with their dexterous mouths. Our eyes stayed on the roof beams for a long time, and the joy and excitement in our hearts were beyond words. Grandpa and Grandma smiled like March peach blossoms, and there were crystal tears in their eyes.
That night, we could finally sleep soundly and sweetly. In my sleep, I dreamed of swallows flying lightly and happily in the mist of spring rain, in the green fields, next to the turquoise willow trees...
(Essay, to be continued)
January 20, 2022