#This is the taste of the New Year#Go home for the New Year
The Lunar New Year is a grand traditional festival of the Han people. The big Chinese New Year's Eve, the family reunites, eats the New Year meal, cooks dumplings, and sets off firecrackers, so that every dragon's descendants are full of expectations. Going home for the Chinese New Year is the most touching thing before the festival. People have long been busy buying New Year goods, decorating houses, a busy and lively, children are happy to raise their eyebrows, the smell of the New Year in the air is swirling in everyone's heart, the old people are looking forward to it, and the wanderers are like arrows.
Through the car window, the snow on both sides of the road is vast, Wei Wei Qingshan is covered with white snow, only the green tip is exposed, the dry grass sways in the snow, two gray and white magpies perch on the willow tree on the side of the road, motionless, is it waiting for this fine stream of water under the tree, or waiting for the relatives who are about to return, what makes this air elf lose the desire to fly in the sun? This familiar bird magpie suddenly transported me into a distant era. When I was a child, as soon as I had a winter vacation, I helped my mother "run the New Year". The mother had to burn a whole jar of pancakes and prepare enough food for the domestic animals. The waxing moon is idle in winter, just in time to prepare for the spring farming. Until the 23rd of the Waxing Moon, the mother swept the house to sacrifice the stove, and the "New Year" was turned into a spring festival, steaming steamed steamed buns, and raising her head to throw this chirping bird and magpie in front of her eyes.
On New Year's morning, my mother got up early and lit a bunch of bonfires in the courtyard, and the crackling flames reflected half the sky, heralding the coming year. The family gathered around the table for a reunion dinner, the father asked everyone to say a toast and make their own wishes, and the celebration of the festival reached its climax. As darkness sets the stage, the mother sets up meals in the courtyard, lights red candles, spreads thatch at the table, and performs rituals similar to religion. The new year's program is basically the same, the progress is also you catch up, the signal is the number of firecrackers. The New Year's bells ring, the dumplings are cooked in the pot on time, the firecrackers are fired in unison, deafening, this is probably the last salute in the Chinese New Year's Eve, and the fireworks make the night colorful and warm. The dumplings at midnight are all vegetarian fillings, commonly known as "next year meals", only symbolically eat a few, the mother as usual placed a plate on the stone mill in the courtyard, the annual sacrifice ended. After eating the "next year's meal", each guarded the age, and I, always a soldier who was left behind, became a prisoner of the sleepy worms.
It's been many years since I left my mother, and during the Spring Festival, I'm busy running to another home. The people of this Western Liang country, the family is warm and warm, but the customs of the New Year are completely different from the hometown, so this different New Year always evokes my homesickness, remembering the New Year with my mother, and missing the years on the coast of the East China Sea.
On the first day of the New Year, the hands and siblings who went home for the New Year returned one after another, and the old man's happy smile and unwilling eyes seemed to be my mother who cherished the farewell, and a warm current suddenly arose in my heart. Returning home for the New Year, I was doing my filial piety to my children, and I didn't want my emotions and souls to be baptized and sublimated. The solid sense of belonging in my heart has eliminated the loneliness and busyness of the weekdays. Thinking that I am not confused years, I still have my parents who love me, hold my baby, and enjoy this heavenly gift, which is really happy.
On the way back, there were scattered snowflakes in the sky. Snowflakes gradually evolved into torrential rain, falling down and snapping against the windows, wipers swinging left and right, and the road was full of water. Unfortunately, the snow all over the field, washed by the rain, will melt away and be exhausted. The woods near and far, but exceptionally fresh. The oil-black elm trees, the treetops rendered with a faint red halo, the gray poplar trees, have gradually revealed the blue-green, this is the message of spring. Under the thousands of miles of ice, life is quietly pregnant with vigorous vitality, and I am touched by this tenacious trace of life.
