The hometown is in the southern border town of Huaxi, because of the harmony with "Huaxi Village", once upon a time the locals had a feeling. Huaxi, also known as "Huaxi", I don't know when, where and who gave this place a poetic name, from ancient times to the present, so that people are so peaceful, intoxicated and longing.
As one of the source water systems of the Pearl River, Qujiang and the Ningzhou River secretly met in the Middle Yunnan Canyon, danced hand in hand, turned a bend when they arrived at Huaxi Town, warmly still danced forward hand in hand, and spun out a fertile river beach on the opposite side of the town. Presumably, in ancient times, the first person to come here was a biqing creek through the long reeds, layers of blooming reeds, like grease powder smeared on the face of a beautiful person; qingxi like an eyebrow, lining the green creek lake like an eye. Standing in the clouds with a bird's eye view, when quiet, this place is picturesque; the breeze blows, and it seems that the beauty blinks, secretly sending autumn waves. Perhaps, this man thus resided here and multiplied. Entering the era of civilization, a pair of lovers who were in love were privately set up here for life during the blossoming season, lying on the banks of the Clear Creek, whispering, and can still be heard today. The woman asked, "Will you love me for the rest of your life?" The man said, "Yes." "Then how will you love me?" "If there is reincarnation, may the flowers bloom in the clear stream." After saying that, get up and go east hand in hand. The green mountains on both sides of the stream looked like their distant backs. "Flower Creek", when famous here.
When I was a child in middle school in a small town, the long reeds could only be the reverie symbols in the mind, and sometimes some of them grew up at the water's edge, and the students who read late often took it to make a pipe and blow a song of Mao Ning's "The Sound of the Waves". A hill of rice paddies has replaced the reeds, spring, summer, autumn and winter, the heavens are like a persistent painter has been sketching and creating here. In August, the banks of the creek are full of gold; in the Cuixi Lake on the edge of the town, the ducks leisurely float over the water, stirring up layers of waves, and scattering towards the shore; on the side, the farmyards lined with farms are steaming with cooking smoke; on the drying field in front of the courtyard, several women who are drying grain sometimes chat and sometimes bow their heads to pick up the grain, and a group of men in Han shirts carry the valley blue from the edge of the drying ground, blowing a few whistles, causing women to laugh.
Over the years, the house on the edge of Cuixi Lake is still a courtyard, the only difference is that people and houses have traces of age. After the earth faded golden, the farmers no longer let the rice fields rest, and after several intensive cultivations, they dressed in green clothes, planted winter vegetables, enriched their own tables, and beautified the mouths of others. At this point, some people began to live in Western-style buildings. Before nightfall in the agricultural leisure season, there are always groups of adults or children playing gyros on the drying field, and the kind mother often sits on the door pier, knitting the bucket in her hand, waiting for the return of the child.
Sending away the morning dew and sunset, the traditional courtyard, playing tops, weaving buckets, singing mountain cavities, etc. have become the memories of the elderly, and now on the banks of the Huaxi River and the Cuixi Lake, every day is charming. The 10,000 acres of orange groves welcomed guests from all over the world and left with a full load. Harvest orange farmers, people who are out of the hustle and bustle, couples who are in love, etc., always stop at the Huaxi River, among the reeds, in the orange groves, on the boardwalk, every morning and afternoon. The couple who walk by the Huaxi River are like the lovers who went east to revisit the place, climbing the mountain to the water, or gently shaking the reeds by the clear stream, holding a bend of the stream; or playing in the orangery, inhaling the fragrance of flowers and tasting a mouthful of honey oranges. When you're hungry, eat a little barbecue; when you're tired, spend the night in a wooded cabin.
In the spring, when the flowers bloom, the orange blossoms on the banks of the Huaxi River are fragrant on both sides.
Looking at Meiwen, I thought of Qiu Shi.
The last three diagrams are wrong. Hope for understanding.
Source: Roaming Spring Township
Text: Dai Weinan Editor: Gao Jing
Editor:Western Mobile Media