Text/Zhou Yanling
I didn't dare to pick it, so I took a picture, not the fruit tree of my childhood
In the summer at that time, it often rained, but it stopped quickly, just now it was pouring heavy rain, and in the blink of an eye, the sky was clear, blue and clean, like a huge and boundless mirror. The air was humid and the wind was light. What the sun shines, what tastes.
Thus, the floral and fruity fragrance and the fragrance of all the plants went straight into the house like a little elf. I climbed up from the kang and easily crossed the window, like a monkey, and then sat down on the wide earthen windowsill.
I do this often, and I like to come in through the window and go out of the window. Because the window sill is in the eaves, it is not wet by the rain, and it is warmed by the sun, like sitting on a warm earthen kang. Despite some butt tying (there were a lot of wheat stalks in the mud when I wiped the windowsill), I was willing to sit here. Sitting here, as soon as I looked up, I could see my little swallows flying out of their nests under the eaves and landing on the two twin trees in the yard, hiding in the thick leaves and chattering. A moment later it flew up from the trees, flew into the far air, and flew into the clouds. I imagined that the little swallow must have built a nest in the clouds, or how could it not be seen if it flew into the clouds! The clouds are always floating in the sky, and I wonder if the little swallows will fall from the clouds?
Sitting on the windowsill, I could see the flowers I had planted, but it was a small piece of land, and my mother had always been very stingy about the land. Only such a small piece was approved for me to plant flowers. The flowers were beautiful, but I couldn't name them. I wanted to see how they bloomed, so I often sat there and watched without blinking, but I still didn't see them. So I made sure they must be blooming at night, and while I was sleeping, I decided to quietly come out at night to see the flowers. But at night, my eyes stopped listening to me, and they wouldn't let me open them.
Because it had just rained, every flower was full of crystalline water droplets, shimmering as if each flower lived with a small sun, straight to my eyes, the wind gently blew, the flowers and flowers began to dance hand in hand, butterflies and bees also came to join in the fun, they chased and entangled in the flowers. Butterflies flew up and down in the flowers, showing off their beauty, and bees buzzed in the flowers, flying into small mists, as if the whole world could hear its call. I was angry that the flowers I had planted were occupied by them, and I wanted to blast them away, but I didn't dare. The stone is poking the honeycomb next to the sunflower, the bees are angry, a group of bees are surrounded by the stone, the stone is stung by the bees and cries, one eye has become a line, red like a ripe peach, these days do not dare to come out to play, I don't want to become a stone like that, forget it, ignore them, let them play in my garden!
One quiet noon, the sun cast countless golden threads, tied to all the plants, tied to my eyes, making me feel that time had passed for a long time, and it was boring. Sitting on the windowsill, the eyes were all green, only the torn straw hat that my family erected in the vegetable field was yellow, and the four big words of "Labor Glory" on the straw hat were red, which the mother used to scare the birds, it was like a branched ear, guarding the mother's vegetable field in the dark and day. And the big apricot tree in my uncle's garden was red and green, as if each leaf was wrapped in a bright red apricot, red and shining, more like stars, as if the silk thread of sunlight refracted from the apricot tree into my eyes, firmly tied to my gaze. The scent of apricots was already floating in the air, as if it were a mysterious song, making my heart constantly hallucinate and teasing my sense of taste from afar. I began to fantasize that if only there was such a big apricot tree in my garden, so that I could climb up to the tree every day and sit on the tree and eat enough. I am especially envious of the little swallows on the eaves of my house, they have no boundaries of home, they can fly around in the air at will, how free! They could stand on the apricot tree of their uncle's house and sing, and no one paid any attention to them.
The sunlight tied each leaf more intensely like a silk thread, and then began to refract into my gaze. It was time for a nap, and I was not sleepy and sat quietly on the windowsill.
I was waiting, waiting for all the people to take a nap; waiting for the clouds in the sky to drift to the other side of the mountain; waiting for all the eyes to let the threads of the sun slosh. I quietly slipped down the window sill, scratched the soil on my ass, barefoot, and slowly approached my uncle's garden along the wall.
In fact, it was very convenient to go to my uncle's house, because at that time, our two families used a common earthen well, and there was a small door next to the earth well, as long as you opened the small wooden door, you could walk to my uncle's garden very smoothly.
Usually, you can push open the small wooden door without scruples, jump to your uncle's house to play with your cousin or pestering your grandmother to tell stories. Now some thieves are weak-hearted, their hearts are pounding, like a small rabbit, and their nervous bodies are trembling. All the way to the cat's waist, it was not easy to come to the almond tree, the eyes were still uneasy to look at the window of the uncle's house, praying in their hearts that they must be asleep. So I carefully reached out and plucked a few apricots, but it alarmed the birds in the trees, and countless drops of water fell on top of my head.
I don't know where my cousin came from, and I was arrested, my cousin's voice was very loud, I was particularly afraid of her, her shout, startled all the birds in the garden to fly into the air; frightened, I was scattered and threw away the apricot legs and ran back.
Image from the web
When I got home, I lay on the kang and couldn't get up, and I wouldn't open my eyes no matter who came. Because this matter was discovered by my cousin and known to all people, it was really faceless. But it is best to let Grandma know that then Grandma's crutches will fall on her cousin's ass and make her ass print a big red apple, so that she will cover her ass and cry. Thinking like this, I couldn't help but secretly laugh, and I survived. But I was a little disappointed, because my cousin ran fast, and my grandmother's trembling little feet could not catch up with my cousin, and even if I caught up, my grandmother's crutch was lifted high and fell gently, and my grandmother was always like this.
Thinking like this, I unconsciously fell asleep. In my dreams, I dreamed of my grandmother. Grandma bent her back and appeared under the big apricot tree on crutches, and the slight westward sunlight illuminated Grandma's slightly tilted face, making Grandma's wrinkled face magical, making people feel mysterious and kind. She tapped the fork of the almond tree with her crutch, and the movement slowly swept through the sunlight, causing the almond tree to sway and gently tremble. So the rosy apricot began to rain like a drop on the ground with the rise and fall of the crutch, like a star that fell on the ground. Grandma put down her crutches, squatted down on her body, and picked up the apricots one by one. The apricots are all wrapped in Grandma's small placket, but under the tree are printed Grandma's pointed footprints....
In the oblique light of the setting sun, I saw my grandmother, who was holding a cane in one hand, but the other hand was tightly grasping the bulging small placket, the small foot was upside down, and the back of Wei Tuo was leaning forward, constantly shaking in the sunset, reflecting on the window frame, becoming a landscape. The silvery white hair also hung with small sparkling water droplets, like shining little pearls. Deep wrinkles smiled into a pool of ripples, rippled in the sunset. Like the kind old woman who makes magic in old Green's pen. Grandma didn't know who Old Green was, but Grandma's story Library had such an old woman.
I don't know when, the characteristic fragrance of red apricots wafted into my dreams, and when I woke up, the sun had quietly stood on the small hillside in the west, laughing into a colorful rainbow. Like a sister's red scarf, it hung long behind the crooked-necked old willow tree on the west slope.
I was sleepy-eyed and wanted to stretch out, but as soon as I reached out, I touched something round and slippery, rolling out of the crook of my arm. My eyes lit up, and I was sleeping with a bunch of apricots in my arms! The red apricots are like little elves, lying quietly in the crook of my arms, gently moisturizing my dreams.
I rolled over and jumped up, sat down on the windowsill again, and then had to eat apricots one after another, and the sweet and sour juice flowed joyfully into my stomach.
Outside, the sounds of mothers calling their children came and went; the sound of the sheep in the sheepfold huddled together and panting, as if coming from the ground; the little swallows chirped under the eaves, spitting out the food in their mouths to feed their children; the cooking smoke was like a dancing snake, winding in mid-air; the sky was as clean as a satin covered with tiles; the sister's red scarf drifted down to the foot of the mountain, turning into a red cloud, and slowly drifted away.
Mother began to busily set the table and serve food. It was suddenly quiet outside. I slipped quietly through the window into the garden. At night, all the plants were shrouded in a mysterious veil, as if they were dressed in black, and the cicadas cried endlessly in the black clothes, probably thinking that the black clothes were too stuffy and wanted to fly out. A few fireflies were like small fireballs, circling around the black clothes, probably thinking that the black clothes were very mysterious and wanted to find a gap to drill into. Grandma's story is mysterious and bizarre, like that red almond tree into my world.
Grandma said that when the cucumber blossoms bloomed, the cowherd and the weaver girl would meet, and when the children were under the cucumber rack at night when the stars were full, they could hear the cowherd and the weaver girl talking, and then thousands of magpies would fly to build a bridge for them. Grandma always looked at the starry sky when she talked about this, as if looking for a place where the cowherd and the weaver girl would meet.
Now I want to ask Grandma, the cucumber blossoms are blooming, the stars tonight are all over the sky, bright like countless eyes looking at me, should I lie down under the cucumber rack and listen to what the cowherd and the weaver girl will say when they meet.