It rained, the autumn Fangling, always rain without warning, the pea tip in the small courtyard was long and prosperous, the plants stood tall, and the water of the West River in front of the door began to rise slowly, calm and soothing.
The cars on the street come and go, crisscrossing, because it rains, less hustle and bustle, small cities are like ancient villages, because of remoteness, not developed, but because of the transmission of poetry culture, it is deep and beautiful, and each city has a cultural inheritance, affecting the development of a place, but also affecting the thinking of generations of people.
Spring, summer, autumn and winter, the replacement of each season, although it is the law of nature for thousands of years, there is life and death in nature, although human beings cannot be like the leaves in spring and winter, but look down on life and death, the heart will be safe.
When I went to the countryside a few days ago, the farmers were busy harvesting the rice of this season, the golden rice fields with the occasional wind and waves, the grains were large and thick, the modern harvesters in the farmland made the autumn harvest less lively and sweaty, and the progress of the times allowed the farmers to stand by and watch.
Different seasons of rice fields have different colors, from green to yellow, golden and full, the grains glow with ripe light, much like the joy and pride of growth.
The busyness and bustle of the past have slowly become idle and comfortable, and I always feel that the autumn harvest seems to have changed its flavor, there is less expectation, the peasants are also a lot less industrious, the original era of not enough food has been far away, the national policy is good, it seems that hard work has become redundant!
Although nature still interprets the four seasons year by year, the four seasons are still spring sowing summer, long autumn harvest and winter, but without the joy and expectation of the four seasons, it seems that farmers are indifferent to hope, even if the natural disaster harvest is not good, it will not affect the livelihood.
Is the times moving too fast, all people are moving forward, no one is looking back, but everyone's heart is still carrying the deepest thoughts of the past, whether it was once poor or rich, in today's view is the original beauty, in the deepest part of the heart, soft and warm, full of hope and enthusiasm.
On the weekend, my father brought new rice from the country, and the children, like me, were full of anticipation, and went to the kitchen to stand in front of the rice cooker, took a deep breath, and then shouted contentedly: What a fragrance! I seem to see a pot of happiness in the rice cooker, the love that my father brought us.
I closed my eyes, and I saw the figure of my father bending over with a straw hat and rolling up his high trouser pipes in the spring, planting seedlings in the rice field, which I could not forget for a long time.
For many years, no matter whether it has experienced disasters or smooth wind and rain, the earth has always been quiet, and the rice stalks after the autumn harvest, quiet, hard and strong, still stand in the rice fields, row after row, orderly, waiting for tomorrow's spring, irrigating water and turning mud.
When writing these words, I suddenly felt that I loved to write words, and I actually loved to remember, to love to go to the countryside on idle days, different seasons, different regions, there are different memories of life, leaving life, the words become dry and pale.
Walking around and looking at the time, witnessing the tolerance and close connection of the four seasons, a piece of land, all carrying hope and harvest.
In this city, in this square inch, the memory begins to recover with the four seasons, rubbing shoulders with many people, the memory seems to be like a huge warehouse, slowly releasing fragments, I often feel that sometimes it seems to be an illusion, and I look back at it immediately, but find that it is so real and abundant.
I hope that life can be simple, be a simple mother, take care of the children, day after day, a body, a land, always contain unlimited potential, through the four seasons, through life, old age, illness and death, and finally can continue to ask themselves: what else can be missing, in order to be as tolerant and broad as the earth, accompanied by the four seasons of reincarnation.
After the autumn harvest, it will slowly usher in the snow in the sky, should it be: "Should there be no place to live and give birth to its heart"
Because of the past, I know how to be calm. Because I gave up and gave up, my heart was as calm and hopeful as the earth after the autumn harvest.