"Before the rain in the spring valley, and pick the fragrant smoke by hand. It is difficult to be green and tender, and it is easy to be clear and late. "The season has come to the valley rain, and Taocun is full of flowers. Wild roses, purple flowers, clematis, etc., clusters, trees, and pieces of flowers are in full bloom, and the tung flowers are like the jade bowls left by fairies, pouring down on the slopes and ridges of Peach Mountain, and in the fields at the edge of the fields, the unique colors are dyeing the spring beauty of the ancient villages.
In the most beautiful April day in the world, if there is no emergency overtime on weekends, I will take my wife to live in the countryside of Nanshan for a day or two, in the drizzle Feifei, listen to the oil tung flowers knocking on the window lattice in the middle of the night, I will wake up in the fragrance of flowers, smell the fragrance of oil tung flowers, and fall asleep again in the sound of frogs.
Tung oil pollen white and light red, simple like a country woman, I have an indescribable preference for tung oil, every year when the tung blossoms open, I will return to the hometown of Tao Village in the countryside, with a camera to record the fragrance of tung oil, and I can't help but touch the rough bark of tung oil trees, I can't help but sigh, such a rough torso can bloom a magical brilliant flower, look at the fluffy, soft leaves like a baby's face, kiss the smiling face of tung oil flowers on the blue sky and white clouds, this tree, this mountain, this flower, This scene also affects how many childhood memories and the nostalgia of the blooming tung blossoms.
Now, few people know about the tung tree, and few people know the role of the tung tree, so it is gradually forgotten by people and abandoned in the depths of the mountains. Now there is very little place to use tung oil seeds to extract oil, and no one buys them for money.
For our poor family back then, our emotions and dependence on the tung tree, like the roots of the tung tree, are deeply rooted in the barren land of Taocun, and for many years, the beauty of the tung tree has been blooming in my dreams one after another.
"Planting mulberry point tung, the children are not poor" is the hope of the ancestors, they through the experience of generation after generation, summed up the indelible merits of the tung tree, in late autumn, the fruitful tung seeds on the tung tree all over the mountain, interpreting the legend of the tung tree as a cash cow.
After the mature tung seed tree, the father and elder brothers used a long bamboo pole to "bang bang" one after another, dark red, light yellow, dark brown tung seeds fell in the tung leaves, weeds and unharvested sorghum, adzuki beans, sweet potatoes in the field. My mother and sisters, like a treasure hunt, carefully picked up the tung seeds under one tung oil tree after another with a sickle and branches, filled it with a basket and fell into the basket of my father and brother, and they carried the tung seeds like a hill in the basket, and carried them home step by step, piled them up in a corner of the hall, and let their shells ferment and rot at high temperatures. Later, when it rained and we couldn't do farming or in the winter leisure season, our parents organized us to peel these small hill-like tung seeds.
To tell the truth, it was a hard job to peel the paulownia boys, with swollen fingers and cracked nails. There are also some tung seed shells whose shells have not rotted completely, and the sharp shells inside will from time to time like needles pierce the blood of the fingers, and I look at the tung seeds piled up in half a house like this mountain, and I don't know when the day is the end, and I will find an excuse to sneak out to play from time to time, and my father will be unhurried with a dry tobacco pouch in his mouth, tirelessly peeling a morning or an afternoon, sometimes waking up in the middle of the night, my father will squirt and peel the tung seeds under the flickering tung oil lamp.
After peeling, the tung seeds were carried by his father to a supply and marketing cooperative called Yangtan on the bank of the blocked river, and they were sold one bucket or one liter at a time. When selling tung seed rice, the supply and marketing cooperatives are simply crowded, because in our place, oil tung seeds are one of the main economic sources of people, several salesmen in the supply and marketing cooperatives, regardless of men and women, large and small, have a very ugly face, busy will reprimand the father and villagers who sell tung seed rice, you have tung rice and tung seed shells, pick the outside and then come in to sell! The old folks, who finally squeezed in front of the salesman, smiled and pleaded: "Comrade, comrade, I chose this tung seed rice in the middle of the night last night, and it was very clean! The loan seller's impatient voice became even louder, what comrade, comrade, return the tung seeds! If I don't pick out and choose, I won't accept you! My honest and honest father, although he chose it again and again before selling the tung seed rice, he will inevitably be reprimanded by the salesman comrade: Pick it out, choose it again!
No matter how hard it is to beat tung seeds, pick tung seeds, pick tung seeds, peel tung seeds, and sell tung seeds, the joy and happiness that tung seeds bring to our family far outweigh the hardships. At that time, the materials that could be turned into money in our place were grain and pigs that we were reluctant to eat, but these things that could be exchanged for more money would be accumulated by my father and brother and handed over to the state and the collective "three mentions and five unifications" and "special agricultural taxes", and only the money from the sale of tung oil seeds was kept to buy some fertilizers, pesticides, seeds and other household use.
Of course, these sold tung seed rice are the tuition fees that our little brothers and sisters have not paid off, new clothes for the New Year, and New Year's goods to welcome the New Year.
When I was a child, I could hold the branches of the tung tree with my legs, lie on the tung tree, and watch the white clouds in the warm spring of the sun, let the birds chirp, hold a book and read it for a long time, and the cow didn't know where to steal the wheat, and I didn't know it.
Fresh tung leaves have a delicate fragrance. Every summer, after the tender corn is moved back, the mother grinds it into corn syrup with a stone mill, which is accompanied by new green pumpkin shreds, wrapped in fresh tung leaves, and made into a pulp bun, a fragrance of tung leaves, and the taste is very beautiful...
When the tung blossoms bloom again, stroll through the countryside, the mountains and mountains, the ravines and ravines are all covered with plain white, the falling season, the white tung blossoms fly in the wind, the ground, the roadside, the hillside of the falling flowers are paved layer after layer, colorful like snow.
"Even if it is drifting, it is better than snow, and the fragrance is still silent. The soul returns to the end of the summer to prove the end of the world, why bother asking, turning into a butterfly with a leaf.
Another year of tung blossoms, parents have been dead for many years, mother's tung leaf bun can only be recalled, father peeling tung seeds for us to go to school has become a distant memory, only the hometown of tung blossoms are still angry in the spring of peach village.