In the golden autumn of October, the tomatoes are hung high, the joy is like the sky, and the high blue is far away and boundless.
I like the appearance of persimmons. There are many kinds of persimmons, beef heart persimmon egg persimmon around persimmon mirror persimmon... Without triviality, I only divide the persimmon and round persimmon according to the approximate shape. The former square head and square brain are real, like a warrior in armor walking in the vast earth, each step is thick and steady. The latter is also called hanging red, small and round, after ripening, gently pinched and sunlight to the eyes, crystal clear and can not bear to disturb, reminiscent of all the beauty of the world. The persimmon can be picked when it is not red, wash it, take a knife and peel it into pieces, sweet and crisp. Round persimmons can only wait until they are ripe before eating, the "through" measure is difficult to grasp, slightly sour and slightly ripe skin rot - delicate, you have to spend time to serve. In recent years, I have also seen many long persimmons hanging on the red and black persimmon trees in the mountains. The personality of the long persimmon is between the square persimmon and the round persimmon, the tall and handsome is beautiful and clear, and the tail tip is not small. In late autumn, when the frost and snow are high, the top of the branches is hung high, poking at the high blue sky, beautiful and stubborn, and it is not spared.
Love persimmons, but also because in life, they step by step, with time and place people and affairs and affection, projected in the autumn of the year, but to talk about the taste of persimmons, I can only perfunctory.
Persimmon, what does it taste like?
Persimmon trees grow everywhere in the mountains, and the fields on the mountains are picked and sold for money, and they cannot steal them. Fortunately, there is a persimmon tree that grows on the edge of the rotten field, impartially occupies the corner of the field, the root is in the family of Uncle Ah Er, and the branches occupy half an acre of the Liqi Bo family's field, protruding obliquely out of the tree, and the foreign ocean sprinkles to cover the sky. The two families were red in the face for the ownership of the persimmon tree, and the brigade did not solve it. In order not to hurt the peace, the two families simply did not care about anyone, so the persimmon tree became the child of the village.
Persimmon trees are difficult to climb, and there are branches in more than two people high. To eat persimmons, you have to carry a long bamboo pole, put a sickle on the top of the bamboo pole, poke into the rotten field and raise the bamboo pole at the wild persimmon, grinning and squinting. The tree is high and the sky blue people are small, enough for half a day, there are few cooked, they have been robbed by the big children earlier, and the ones left for the small children are all born.
When you start, you can't see the raw and cooked, nothing more than red and impenetrable, there is always a hard resistance when you pinch it, the sun shines, and the persimmon body is black, like an unshelled chick, which is frustrating. After the raw persimmons that grew up were enough, some of them were quickly caught by the eyes, and some of them plunged into the rotten field, so sad that they did not want to be found.
Most of the missing ones rot in the fields.
The bodhisattva who caught it offered it, eagerly took it home to hatch, and incubated the eggs like that. The old hen naturally does not care, the cotton quilt is a good place to hatch persimmons, but the parents want to scold. Sometimes on a butt trampoline, persimmons become "persimmon cakes", wet and wet, like a child pulling on the stomach. Not only are the persimmons gone, but they are also beaten. It is best to incubate persimmons in a rice tank. My family's rice tank is hidden in the room, and it can only provoke the valley tank. In the dark back room, the grain tank is shy with a big belly, the rice is golden, and everyone is waiting in the silence of the years, waiting for the October child to hatch the persimmons.
Xingchong trotted all the way, and there were several raw persimmons in front of the cloth shirt, some of them were blue and yellow, and some of them were covered with mud and black. The black one is touched from the rotten field, the trouser pipe is bowed in the field for half a day, and the needle is found in the sea, and it must be cherished. Washing and drying, when the persimmon is hatched, no one sees it.
Farmers rarely lock their doors, knowing that your family hatches persimmons, dogs and cats can enter. At five or six o'clock, the first darkness, the green tile roof cooking smoke, the house stove room lively. The children are all home, the laundry of cooking on the fire, busy. He sneaked into the back room, sneaked into the side of the door of the jar, put the persimmons into the jar, grabbed the rim of the jar and submerged it into the jar - the grain was soft, installed a foot along the mouth of the tank, and the little people rolled inside, like swinging around with quicksand in the boundless desert... Enough swinging, digging a few one-arm deep pits, burying persimmons to cover the grain, and then quietly climbing out of the tank...
I thought the gods didn't know.
It's late, the stars rub their eyes to guess where the persimmons are buried; the cat sees through the children's work and learns to hunch their backs in the valley jar to sleep lazily; the dog is lazy, anyway, how can not eat; the child is anxious, as long as the parents and siblings look at it a few times, they feel that the persimmon's life is not long...
Life is imminent. The next day, most of the persimmons have disappeared - whose eyes have been recruited to be strong? Annoyed, turning the grain tank upside down to the sky, only to find a few scattered in the corner of the horn, carefully buried, thinking that when it will eventually ripen, in this long day, can't help but miss - cooked? Cooked? The days are so hot valleys so buried for so long it's time to ripe... I can't eat and do things, chase the footsteps of chickens and dogs countless times to run in and out, grab the rim of the cylinder and roar and plan, and bury it in a hurry... Persimmon can not withstand the toss, soft lying down without spirit, can not distinguish between raw and cooked, eating to the mouth has gone through a thousand hardships, or astringent.
I can only go to the wild persimmon field again. The autumn wind is cold, blowing a few lonely persimmons shivering in the wind - ripe persimmons have long been thrown into the rotten fields, to eat, you have to learn the peasants in the field to pull. What do we eat, with a muddy smell and a rotten smell - what is the taste of ripe persimmons?
Sir knew that I loved to eat persimmons and bought round persimmons for me. Dig half way along the middle of the stem, the orange persimmon flesh with the meridian wisps of crystal shiny, remove the maroon core, orange "small tongue" crisp ... Sweet and fresh, sweet and pure... It turns out that the real persimmon tastes like this!
Poor, my taste of persimmons only stays in bitterness and rotten sweetness, just like my perception of "worldly affairs", because of the protection of my parents and family, I don't know much. In life, persimmons and worldly things are just the opposite, persimmons are sweet when they ripen, just wait. Things are not necessarily, occasionally sweet, mostly bitter, sometimes sweet and sour. In any case, as long as you face it, work hard and wait, what they give will be a fruitful one.
May life, the fulfillment of all the tacky blessings, persimmon things go as expected, and the world as it goes...
-Ends-
Readers/Specially Appointed Night Reading Columnists:
Feng Zhijun
The image of this article is provided by Zhu Sipan