Text/Qi Yaping (Gansu)
The cold of spring has not yet dissipated, the weeping willows on both sides of the asphalt road have been hung with new shoots, and the sycamore near the front is exposed with brown branches, which may also have secretly sprouted new shoots, but it is just accumulating strength to develop. The door to the left of the asphalt road is still open, but I am tired of the lonely atmosphere of a person and want to take a walk outdoors. So, bathing in the air, letting the wind make waves, speeding up the pace, at the fork in the Jiang Village, turning into a slope, slowing down again.
This slope is located at the top of the hill, and many single-family courtyards are located at the foot of the mountain, and the courtyards are densely lined with trees in front of the courtyards. The courtyard has all kinds of gatehouses and various courtyard walls, and the courtyard walls are quiet, and people cannot be seen moving. If you look closely from above, even if a chicken walks through the yard, it is considered to be a distant reflection with me, but there is no. I thought that today's rural areas, at first glance, are uninhabited: possible part-time work, possible farm work, possible relatives, in short, just happen to be absent from home. Leaving a Noda space alone, I walked alone.
I think that those houses are fortunately all unconscious, and if they are like my sentimentality, then isn't the world even more confused and disordered? Human beings live in the midst of unconscious things, with "I" as the greatest, and ignorant things do not compete with people for anything, people just have to take it. That's why humans can be justified and snicker. To this day, nothing has jumped out and said to mankind: Give me back what has been encroached upon me! This is no thing, if there is, it must be the collapse of the sky, the vicissitudes of the sea, the rivers and lakes...
In recent years, when I have been wandering alone on the streets of Beijing, I have mostly walked and stopped aimlessly. Most of the time looking at the "ecstasy array" of the city and being confused. If it rains, the city is completely covered by a rain curtain, and the street is not like a street, only the rain on the street. I was walking in the rain like that, feeling the world buried by the rain, what kind of crackling, suppressing and bombing, things are not human - when the rain stopped, I found a soup chicken like myself...
What would it be like if, at this moment, there was suddenly rain falling? However, presumably, under the cold spring, there will not be much rain, and today is not like it is going to rain. Then, go ahead and go—a wide field of alfalfa in front of you, full of withered, half-human-tall alfalfa. Not far away, there are large tracts of wasteland, all obliquely full of dry grass, and the new green may be brewing under the dry grass, but it is covered by the old grass of previous years, and it is not visible for the time being. "The old don't go to the new and don't come", the new comes, but the old does not go, what is the reason? It should be attributed to the change of times, right? Modern people are reluctant to cultivate the land, and the grass is full of grass in the field. Going out to work is always much higher than the income of farming at home, who wants to stay and guard this side of barrenness?
Further on, at the edge of the mountain, green grass tips appeared, and these grass tips were connected and covered the slopes and cliffs. And in the tip of the grass, there were small blue flowers like stars. I don't know its name, only a faint aroma comes from the shower. In the clear and warm sky, the sun casts on the grass tip, making the hillside light and dark. It was also this afternoon that I was running with the crowd at the congested Tiananmen subway exit. The oncoming flower girl, carrying a bamboo basket, several kinds of flowers in the bamboo basket, there is also a fragrance, but it is not worth the blue flowers on this hillside. The aroma of that basket is just seemingly nothing, and every flower is idiotic, just a flower. The crowd of people who ran around the flower girl went away, and the flower girl did not understand why people saw the flowers and took a detour, nor did they understand that if the flowers were weak in aroma, they were just a basket of grass.
On this hillside full of green grass tips and small blue flowers, the natural floral fragrance makes me forget, if I go back to the past, I would not be so attached to a hillside and the blue flowers on the hillside, at that time, I always thought that the world was a group after all, and I could wait for myself. However, in the blink of an eye, everything has become different, and where last year was walked, it may not be possible to repeat it next year. I remember the year I traveled back to town, only to find that the original street was missing! It is replaced by tall buildings and indifferent pedestrians. And the next year, this hillside and the blue flowers on the hillside will be in place, waiting for me, the visitor, right?
About author:Qi Yaping: A native of Qingyang, Gansu, he is a member of the Qingyang Writers Association. Passionate about literature, he has insisted on writing for many years, and his works have been published in "Rural Public", "Fine Short Stories", "Yellow River Literature and Art", "Dadu River", "Shenzhou Literature", "Gansu Economic Daily", "Zhanjiang Daily", "Baoding Radio and Television News", "Longdong Daily", "Liaoning Literature and Art", "Five-and-a-Half Poetry Journal", "Beidou", "Kowloon", "Yellow River Elephant", "Mountain Soul" and other paper media, and hundreds of essays have been published on various network platforms.
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