Pingjiang Road is a stone road alongside the river, paved with flat slabs of stone in the middle, with small stores next to each other. Pingjiang Road is located in the busy downtown area of Suzhou, starting from Ganzhong Road in the south and connecting to Northeast Street in the north, which is the best place for Suzhou people to get away and relax.
Along the way, tasting a variety of desserts and snacks, a kind of relaxation and ease of coziness climbed to the end of the thinking nerve.
Suddenly, my eyes light up, a small store in front of the door, a few blooming rosebuds, a pink jumped into my eyes. Hurriedly go, carefully scrutinized, the flowers heavy petals, five or six flowers crowded in a branch, poly open. Gently hold a hand, close your eyes, a light fragrance drifting. Blooming rosebuds, familiar fragrance, I seem to be through the lush branches and leaves, linger in the past memories of the light of day, the dust of those years, scattered in the shallow dust. And a small rosebud, but like a butterfly fluttering, carrying me to fly. Re-pick up the vicissitudes of old age, gently push the doorway of the years, that a strain of pink memories, once again appeared in front of my eyes.
That I just went to the countryside of a past event, rural soil walls, dilapidated compound, the door of the vegetable field and bean seedlings, the green wheat seedlings in the wheat field next to the house, and that the house in front of the back of the peach and pear trees and acacia trees, alone do not see the flowers and grasses, that is the petit bourgeoisie, a specific era, all the fields are used to plant crops.
I can't understand the local teacher's speech in my native language, and I'm always distracted in class. Because I'm from the city, a group of students always gather around me after class to watch me write, including the pen in my hand and the novelty of the clothes they have never seen, and their mouths are still gabbling. My face turned red and I was a bit annoyed, so I raised my hand to drive them away, but when I raised my hand, I accidentally touched a male student's nose, and at once, a red liquid flowed down from my nostril, and I was scared. I was scared. A few kind-hearted students comforted me, saying that the student was a "sandy nose", but I didn't understand and was so scared that I cried. A classmate told me that his father was a government official and that I was in big trouble. Soon after, I was called to the office by the principal, and stood there for a lesson, so that I could reflect on the situation. I was stubborn even then. I didn't wait for the end of the school day, picked up my bag and left the classroom. I didn't dare to go home, and I didn't know where to go, so I wandered around the village, in front of one house after another, hiding and looking around as well.
Unconsciously, I entered the small yard of a house, and saw a few climbing pink, smaller-than-a-ping-pong-ball flowers on the side of the fence wall, with branches and leaves in clusters. There were so many little thorns on the branches, and the little pink `flowers', with a faint fragrance, really attracted me. I stretched out my little hand and tried to pinch one, but I was accidentally pricked, and blood seeped out from my finger, I cried, not knowing whether it was pain or fear, thinking about my unlucky day, thinking about myself as a girl from the city coming to this countryside where even verbal communication was difficult, I cried out. At this time, the house came out of a woman of about forty years old, with a clear face, fair skin, medium height, beautiful body, a row of white fine rice teeth, especially striking. She did not blame me, but also comforted me, she told me, that is a thorny rosebud, because the stem is short, can not be inserted into the bottle of water. When it rains, they have fallen Ying, the ground is a brilliant. This kind of flower is good to keep and look good, but not in favor. She went back inside and got scissors, walked to another corner of the yard, and cut a big red moonflower for me. Just as I was about to leave, a boy came in the door and called out to my mom, a classmate of mine. My classmates told me that my father did not see me come home and was anxious to find the school. So I hurried home, my father asked me the origin of the moonflower, he told me that it was a rich farmer, only her family has flowers and plants.
In the days to come, as long as school is out early, I will go to see her family's rosebuds, that rosebuds are really friendly, open and stop, stop and open, but also up to half a year.
Whenever it rains, it is my favorite time, I will quietly run to her house, with my fingers will be flowers on the raindrops one by one to pop off, see the splash of the raindrops, happy to laugh, and those blooming rosebuds, but can not withstand the impact of the popping of my fingers, the piece of the stamens fell to the ground, and that lightly fall, it is really beautiful, as if butterflies like floating down. I don't know, is that a kind of destruction? And that aunt, I call her Auntie Li, because she gave birth to three boys, very much like girls, because she is not good health, often have to drink Chinese medicine, not allowed to go down to the ground. Her hand is soft, fine, stroking my hair, my face, I actually have a feeling of fondness, she especially like to pull my hand smile, standing in the rosebuds under the two of us, but so cozy.
............
Suddenly a burst of battery car bell, will pull me from the depths of memory back to reality, I turned back to my sister apologetic smile, my memories for a moment to forget her.
In the face of the rosebuds in front of me, I can not help but think of a Tang poem: "around the frame hanging bars dense, floating shade into the summer clear, green save hurt hands thorns, red fall broken intestines Ying ......". Although the rose is not elegant, but there are more than 2,000 years of cultivation history, it is because of the bright color, smell fragrant, and used for gardening; because of the roots and fruits and used in traditional Chinese medicine for the benefit of mankind.
May roses, May thoughts, May colors, in such a quiet early summer, the wind blew quietly, the bright summer accompanied by the faint fragrance of rosebuds blooming, and my heart has a hidden pain, when I returned to the city, never went to see Auntie Li, that is like a rosebud woman, because of her origin is not good, and the people shall not be warm, but like the rosebud vine on the small thorns; her delicate and delicate, she is a good person. The woman is like a rosebush, because she is not from a good background, she can't get along with the people, but she is like the thorns on the vine of the rosebush. I think she should also be a woman with a story, just as the rosebud flower that wonderful legend.
Early summer colorful spring flowers have been quietly hidden, and the rosebuds in the great glory. I with the rosebuds of the feelings of longing, footsteps with the mind wandering in the Pingjiang Road on the stone, slowly savoring the history of the precipitation of that flavor. Along the way, I saw several stores planted in front of my beloved rosebuds, the wind moving flower shadow, flower buds, distant memory of my love, waiting for that once happy and happy.
See the rosebuds bloom again, the most beautiful memories retained in the heart.