Encounter a strawberry picking garden
Author | Wang Shihong
Living near the Dongcheng government, I didn't even know that there was a strawberry picking garden on the south side of the road.
On the first afternoon of the first lunar month, our family wandered along the asphalt road south of the stadium.
I took my daughter's hand and walked on the spring field, the early spring wind was a little cold, and I felt a chill.
The attentive daughter hurriedly took off her own bib and wrapped it around my neck.
In an instant, I felt that the yellow haired girl who was still not growing in my heart had already lifted the veil of the universe with childish thoughts inch by inch, and suddenly, it grew up in the wind.
These subtle small movements after the feeding made my heart flutter with infinite warmth.
We continued to walk along the road, and my daughter suddenly found a new continent and cried out, Mom and Dad, you see. We looked in the direction of our daughter's finger, and in the middle of the path hung a red banner with a few big golden letters that read, "Organic Dairy Berry Picking Garden."
My husband and daughter proposed to go inside to see, and I was also very interested, and I invariably walked along the sign.
Along the winding path, you can see big red signs shining with golden light, and above the simple gate, the flashing words "Eden Leisure Farm", a few large characters, flashing golden light.
I thought to myself, this farmer must be a man with a story, and this name is quite poetic.
When our family walked into the greenhouse, we saw a green vine with red strawberries hanging from the vines.
Spring is full of spring in the greenhouse, but there is a cold wind outside the shed.
The scent of strawberries is really mouth-watering. I took a hard sip of the sweet fragrance and hurriedly bent down to pick it up.
Under the green vines, the red strawberries are arranged in an orderly manner. The greenhouse was very large, the temperature inside was a little hot, and we quickly took off our cotton clothes and enjoyed the spring scent.
I saw two rows of small red buckets hanging on both sides of the shed, and asked the farmer to know that these small red buckets contained pesticide water, and the flying insects could not fly when they smelled the smell.
Strawberries are pure green, do not medicate, do not fertilize. After listening, I sighed that now that science and technology have developed, there are new ways to kill insects.
The daughter was even more elated, only to see her bent over, carrying a small basket in one hand and picking it with the other. I saw that the strawberries she picked did not pick the stems one by one, and her hands were stained red by the juice of the strawberries.
I walked over to my daughter and showed her. I said, "There should be a trick to picking strawberries, don't pinch strawberries, you should find the stems connected to the strawberries and break them with your fingernails, you see, so that the strawberries are in my hands intact."
The daughter said ecstatically: "There is a trick to picking strawberries." I saw my daughter picking as I said, and she was handy, picking strawberries big and many, and soon filling the basket.
My daughter and I carried a small basket to the door of the greenhouse. The husband and the farmer were talking happily, and when they saw our arrival, the farmer greeted us warmly.
Originally, the farmer and her husband had known each other before, and in small talk, they learned that next year the farmer wanted to expand the scale, make full use of the land around the greenhouse, introduce the Luoyang peony, let the surrounding area become the peony garden base, and contribute his own meager strength to the revitalization of Linqu.
I admire this big brother of the farmer, who has courage, courage, and vigor, and is also a hard-working and rich master.
I spied from the farmer's words and demeanor that there was a kind of struggle in him, showing a tenacious will. I know very well that where in the world there is a one-time victory, only repeated quenching may be refined into steel; where there is innocent luck.
For strivers, spring is the season of sowing, and there is "spring" to have "autumn fruit".
When we were walking home with the fruits of the harvest, our daughter said happily: "This year is really meaningful, very happy, and we will pick it again in the next year."
Watching the innocent happiness on her daughter's face, my wife looked at me with her lips and smiled and said, "As long as my daughter likes it, I and your mother will continue to accompany me." Our family habitually stretched out our right hand, came, and pulled the hook.
Two pairs of large hands held a pair of small hands, enjoying the joy of their daughter's company.
Wang Shihong, pen name simple, Linqu people. In 2011, he published the essay "Iron Cat" in Sanjiangchao, Leshan City, Sichuan Province. In 2012, he published the poem "I Look at You with My Third Eye" at the Chinese New Poetry Dictionary, and in the same year, he published a poem in the poetry journal "Wasteland". He published poems in Yantai Peninsula Poetry Journal, served as an administrator in the Water Grass Poetry Society, and served as a super edition in the Forum on Listening to wind and rain. Since I was a child, I have loved literature, and I am more enthusiastic about poetry, hoping to soar freely under the sky of literature.