Red cherries green plantains
Original Susure Zero Point Coffee 4 days ago
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#零点咖啡: The heart is not afraid of floating
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Sometimes When It RainsSecret Garden - Just the Two of Us
Spring always sneaks up inadvertently.
In addition to the previous few orchids in the desk vase, I don't know when there was another tender bud standing in the pavilion, and the head was still covered with his own black jacket, which was green, slender, light, and had a clear texture.
Only then did I remember watering the flowers and grass a few days ago, picking up a morning glory seed in the Yantai, and casually throwing it into the small vase on the desk, who knew that it had returned a surprise so quickly.
I wanted to harvest a spring breeze, but you gave me the whole spring. The bougainvillea, which has withered for less than half a year, stubbornly sprouts new shoots on the dry branches.
When the triangular plum blossoms bloom, they are clustered, and it is impossible to distinguish which are leaves and which are petals.
Experience, in fact, is also a kind of sowing, the road traveled, the seed sown will germinate until it blooms, like a tree.
I remember that summer, under the eaves of Nanputuo Temple, it sheltered from the rain, and the rain wet the dark green tiles, wet the white walls, wet the window ledges, and washed the cliff carvings next to the stone steps.
Red cherry, green plantain.
The rain, not hurriedly tapping, calmly smeared the inscriptions of Putuo Temple, totems, eaves, trees and flowers, and the scenery under the rain and fog seemed to be suddenly closer, clearer, and the colors were more vivid.
Perhaps, this is also a kind of practice and enlightenment.
Jiangnan, even in early spring, can also see the eyes full of new green, in the north only careful observation, can find that the tall and thick trunks on both sides of the street have turned blue, the branches of the trees have become green, and there is still residual snow on the peaks of the distant mountains.
In February of the lunar calendar, the snow is still acceptable, the plum can not be seen, the wind is particularly cold, but it is not harsh.
It is said that spring hits six or nine heads, but the northern country is seven or nine, eight or nine, and what comes into the eyes is not the color of spring, but the wind that blows in the face, and what is heard is not thunder, but the occasional roar under the ice layer of the river and lake.
Standing on the shore, bending down to look closely, the ice layer by layer is stacked on top of each other, like the tides of jade carvings, interlaced with snow-white teeth, many hexagonal or more regular crystals, refracting the dazzling glow, like the glow of diamonds.
Tentatively stepping on one foot, the ice surface was still solid and strong, close to the center of the lake, but I saw several cracks that stretched tens of meters long, and from time to time there was a dull sound.
The surface of the lake is like a huge plate of drifting, sleeping on the top of the ice, the first to wake up is the mud at the bottom of the lake, they open their pores, conduct to each ice crystal cell, slowly expand to the limit of breaking the wall, just like the moment of the explosion of atomic nuclei, extending the entire ice surface, broken, far-reaching, dull, terrifying.
Throwing a stone at the center of the lake, it easily stands on the ice, unlike in the middle of winter, when the stone will slide out far on the ice, and the texture of the ice has shifted from lateral to sunny, from hard to soft.
Where the ice is thinner, the sound of babbling water can be heard.
In the middle of the big river, where the frozen snow and ice are broken, a dark stream appears, and a few wild ducks stand on the ice bank with red palms, or swim in the river with green necks to hunt, or vibrate their wings, shaking off a curtain of spring water, becoming the brightest spring color in the wilderness.
No wonder people say that spring river plumbing duck prophet.
The day was like this, the rising sun rose from the east, pushed open the window, the morning wind blew through the room, and in the blink of an eye, it fell from the west window, and the sunset obliquely illuminated the desk.
There are many cherry trees in the garden of the downstairs block, this block is not developed before, it is called cherry fire ditch, I don't know if it is this reason, there are many cherry trees in the garden.
"Wet apricot blossom rain, blowing noodles are not cold willow wind", but every spring, the first to wake up here is the cherry blossoms, first the light pink flowers bloom sporadically on the branches, a new rain, or a south wind night, is a bright cherry blossom season.
When the peach blossoms and plum blossoms and the locusts compete for glory, the branches of the cherry blossoms are the first to emerge green leaves, and at this time, the green fruits have emerged from the flower peduncle.
In the north, cherries should be the earliest ripe fruit, and Yantai, Dalian "headlights" and "cherry seeds", the cherries here do not have long stalks, do not need manual care, in a semi-wild state, or are planted in the park as landscape flowers and trees, have long withdrawn from the "fruit" population.
On the branches, the round fruit looks the same every day, green and white, pink, until it is purple, hidden under the green leaves, fresh and dripping, like red agate crystal clear, blowing bullets can be broken, pick one into the mouth, sour and sweet full of juice.
I remember when I was a child, the aunt next door picked cherries with baskets, under the armpits, peddled on the street, often surrounded by children, a small bowl of five points, a big bowl with a tip in the corner, three or two children pooled their money to buy, holding in the palm of their hands, you one and I, eat extra happy, full of happiness.
Looking at the cherries in the garden, I can always think of Jiang Jie's "A Cut of Plum. Boats cross the WuJiang River", "the wind is light, the rain is Xiaoxiao", turning over "Qiu NiangDu, Tai Niang Bridge", year after year, when the eyes are full of vitality, "red cherries, green plantains".
Someone once said, "When you think of a city, the first thing that comes to mind is the street." When the streets are alive, the city is also alive; when the streets are dull, the cities are dull. ”
Wait until the beginning of summer, the warm wind blows a river of green water, may wish to come here for a walk, pick a few red cherries to taste, you can also take more, or cook and pitted, drained into a clear and delicious cherry juice, or made into a tempting cherry cold cake, are good options for collecting cherry flavor.
Just remember, eat the cherry and return the core to the soil under the tree.
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