Whenever I looked up, the plane trees outside the window were accompanying me, the sunlight cast a few spots of light on the trunk, and what gradually appeared in my eyes was the figure of Grandpa, so familiar, so warm.
My grandparents once had a house in a small town in their hometown, and the house was on the third floor, just enough to overlook a tree-lined path downstairs. In front of the window stood a plane tree.
When I was a child, my parents were working in the field, and for a while my grandparents took me in the town, and everything was fresh, interesting, and joyful for me, and the only time I missed my parents in particular was about the plane tree in front of the window.
I'm scared of it! Because at night, I often lie in front of the window to watch the people who hurry back at night under the street lamp in the courtyard, the street lamp is very bright, shining on the plane tree, and the shadow is like an ugly monster, grinning at me, as if the next second is going to swallow me into the stomach and eat a full meal. After being frightened a few times, I hid in the room early in the morning, not daring to look at the window again.
Grandpa probably knew mind reading, and he guessed the reason why I didn't dare to go to the window, and asked me if it was because the plane tree had too many branches and blocked the view? I nodded silently, not wanting him to see through me because I was afraid of the shadow like a monster. The next morning Grandpa dragged me to the plane tree, still holding a large pair of scissors, and Grandpa was very skillful in pruning the branches of the plane tree. Ten o'clock in the evening, Grandpa called me out of the room, saying that there were birds outside the window to forage, let me go to the window to see, I ran over with great interest, found that there were no birds, it was Grandpa's white lie, he wanted to try to make me resume the pleasure of lying in front of the window and watching the people coming and going under the street lamp. I understand Grandpa's desire to make me happy, this time I found that the plane tree seems to be no longer scary, maybe Grandpa's love gave me the courage to make me not afraid, maybe Grandpa pruned the shadow became gentle, I was no longer afraid.
In winter, the leaves of the plane tree have long since turned yellow, and the pieces have fallen, without a trace of nostalgia. In the morning, I got up confused and saw grandpa sitting in front of the bed reading the newspaper, and the porridge prepared for me on the table was steaming. I leaned over to him, curious to read the contents of the newspaper, but he picked me up and turned around to admire the plane tree in the morning sun.
The breeze blows, the yellowing leaves are constantly falling, the trunks of the trees look a little bare, and even the warm winter sun cannot hide a feeling of loneliness.
Grandpa suddenly felt, "It's really the sycamore leaves falling all over the court!" I looked at Grandpa doubtfully, and he said, "Grandpa hopes that you can work hard in the past years and not lose your original intention today." After saying that, he put me down and signaled me to drink more porridge, and I obediently drank the porridge, and after a while, my parents came back, and helped me start packing, saying that this time I took me to their city to live, I knew that I was going to temporarily end the days of living with my grandparents, no wonder Grandpa was a little sad, because he didn't give up. The next day I waved goodbye, and before I left, I looked at the plane tree a few times, but I didn't expect it to be the final farewell.
After that, my grandparents moved back to the countryside because they missed the life in the countryside, I never went to the town again, I never saw the plane tree that gave me countless companions, and many happy times became memories in front of those evening windows. At this time, I was also in front of the window, and on the same evening, as if I saw my plane tree again, a trace of oblique sun passed through the leaves and threw a hug at me. Maybe I don't have a plane tree to accompany me anymore, but I will take my grandfather's advice "I used to work hard in the past years, don't bear the original heart today" towards the future, and work hard!
I directed the revised baby's propositional essay [Tooth Gna]