The years are long, and the taste of the year is fragrant
China Yacha Culture Public Welfare Platform News: Spring, as the end of firecrackers gradually fades, the breeze sows spring in every corner of the border, the wilderness begins to boil, and all the beauty begins to appear. After experiencing a winter of labor, people who were bound to a winter finally faded their heavy clothes, walked through the cold of the waxing moon, frozen feet began to stride to pursue the footprints of spring, the years are leisurely, the new year is fragrant, slowly some of the footsteps began to go to the distance, in order to find a new job, with the train gradually drifting away, to feel the spring in a foreign country, people who want to go out to work in the countryside always have to help their families to plant crops before they leave, so as if they are accompanied by spring, slowly leave here, The footsteps of spring are always unable to stay, the rush to come and go, the spring of the hometown, like a young woman who has been reunited for a long time, comes quietly, the spring wind is slightly rough and arrogant, it is like a rash drunk, stumbling all the way, staggering through the deep canyon, climbing up the high peak love, reckless hands lifting the velvet shawl of the ridge neck, rushing to the field in a panic, stepping on the cold land with random steps, waking up the stinging insect pupae in the cave, stirring up the sleeping buds in the dirt, She stretched her waist and branches in a daze of a thousand armies, and then she suddenly crossed the river, crossed the peaks, blew a pool of spring water, annoyed the fish hiding in the river, and when she fled, she bent the soft branches of the weeping willows, and ripped through the hard shells of the branches like goose-yellows, and the young buds spread out at will.
The years are long, the new year is fragrant, in a trance, blowing the long black hair of the elegant women, blowing thin the thick cotton clothes on the old man's body, holding up the dreams in the hearts of the children, so the sky is noisy, the butterflies swallow bees, the beautiful children and the jade rabbits dance together, the children shout happily, running with their hands and feet, although there are departures in the spring, there are also new births, such as seeds sprouting, young fruits on fruit trees, and the sound of frogs, etc., which can be seen in late spring, although some are not as good as the early stages. But it seems to grow a lot more than at the beginning, all the lost will return in another way, it is such a flower falling, there is always a fruit return, the cool climate has gone, the mild always comes, sitting idly in the Jiazhou balcony tea room, watching the people of the three religions and nine streams of people coming and going, people gathering and scattering, admiring the jokes and allusions of the five or six people around, listening to the jokes of the meat and vegetarian dishes raging on the stall table, reverie thinking about the sun playing on the roof of the shed, imagining the wind and rain wandering outside the shed, touching the joy and sorrow of the breeze between the fingers, Gradually pick up the warmth and fragrance in the memories, I think this is the spring breeze of the party that gave birth to such a rich hometown Yacha soup, carefully taste, you will read a piece of history, witness a landscape, enjoy a warm.
The years are long, the new year is fragrant, a blue sky, spring has arrived, there are only a few white clouds in the air, the whole sky is like a huge blue satin canopy, I walk on the path of my hometown, quiet and warm, the branches of the trees are as bright as blazing, in the small river of the Qingyi River, a small leaf does not know where and when it falls, as if it has been frozen here for a long time, there is no breeze, the air is steaming with a smoke smell, accompanied by the aroma of tea, mixed with a little bitter taste of insects, Looking at the thick smoke from a few piles of burning straw not far away, rising, rolling up, failing to float to the depths of the mountains, dissipating the strength in mid-air, the fields are full of dense green seedlings, the Yacha seedlings sown a few days ago have sprouted buds, and there is a gorgeous small white flower scattered on both sides of the road, the flower buds are extremely small and very small, almost unobtrusive, but there are countless flowers, condensed together like a white cloud floating in the still tea field, emitting a strong and charming fragrance, People are accustomed to calling the spring at the end of February the late spring, as the name suggests, spring has reached the end, the flowers have slowly withdrawn and returned to the earth, everything is slowly changing into another scene, time flies, in the blink of an eye is another spring, the years are long and fragrant. (Wang Shibin)