Maybe a lot of people from this path out of the never go back again, but I'm not the same, say I nostalgia or not, say I pretentious or not. I know, that is the place where I grew up, although now I do not live there, but the roots are still sprouting from there.
The hometown road in my memory is more than a zhang wide, curved, potholes, has been leading from the village to the town of the village, along the road to walk a kilometer, you can see the road on both sides of the golden fields. In the summer, the fields are ripe with golden rice, and you can see bunches of full and plentiful rice ears, glittering with the joy of a good harvest. The villagers are full of joy as they walk through the fields, either wearing undershirts or bare bladders, busy with the harvest in the fields.
I remember my uncle always pulling me to the field to help cut the rice, although I do not know how to cut, but I will help to put the harvested rice straw laid out to dry. When the straw was dry, it was bundled up and pulled back to the warehouse in the house on a crate, where it could be used to feed the cows, and the cutting of the straw was always an interesting part of my childhood.
Although it is the countryside, but the village entrance to the town of the daily bus in that economy is not crowded in the era is considered the most convenient means of transportation. I like the simple and happy life in the countryside, feeling the sunrise and sunset that pleasant mood.
? When I was a child, I was most looking forward to every day is the evening after dinner to rest that period of time, the townspeople tired of a day, move a bench, each hand holding a small fan, three a group, five a group, sitting on that hometown on the edge of the road, shaking the fan, telling stories, chattering about the family, the sultry air wafting the slightest bit of coolness, the face of the smile of happiness and contentment.
It was on that same path in my hometown that I first learned to ride a bicycle. I was able to ride a bicycle for the first time on that path in my hometown. My big brother took me along and encouraged me, and every time I fell, he would always tell a joke to amuse me and comfort me. I'm not sure if I've ever been in a position where I've had a good time, but I'm sure I've had a good time, and I'm sure I've had a good time, and I'm sure I've had a good time, and I'm sure I've had a good time.
The path of my hometown has left me the most beautiful memories, there has been sadness, there has been laughter, in this path I saw my parents go out to explore. In this path, I harvested the growth, although there have been a lot of laughter, but inevitably there is also a slight bit of pain and helplessness, these subtle formation of my life can not be erased in the memory. Standing at the edge of the path, I looked towards the direction of the village with longing eyes, that kind of attachment to the parents and miss now let me understand a lot of times our helplessness.
This path in the village carries the memories of several generations, leaving the imprint of more than 2,000 families of villagers, and every day on the path there are fishing folks, but also the villagers returned to the mountain labor, they are the most simple and hardworking people. I remember, the sea is a little far from the village path, some fishermen ride bicycles, some ride motorcycles, carrying baskets to the sea to catch crabs, every time back is full of a big basket. However, the simplicity, kindness and willingness to share are always the same in them. Every fisherman's family is very generous, and always cooks the crabs they catch, and then shouts to the right and left neighbors to come to the house to eat together and share the delicious food.
My grandfather was also a crab expert, every time he came back from the sea, the basket on his back was full of harvest, there are fish, shrimp, crabs. Grandma would patiently peel off the crab meat and put a little bit of it in the noodles, which I thought was the most luxurious delicacy in those days. My cousin and I, as well as my elder brother, always had satisfied and happy smiles on our faces.
The year of junior high school, my father came back to take me and my brother to Shenzhen, when I left, I was full of reluctance with tears in this small road back and forth six times, and my mind kept cycling back and forth a beautiful picture. I cried, a thousand words can not express my heart at that time reluctant to give up, because this trail witnessed my more than ten years of years and growth. In my most difficult time, the path accompanied me to grow up, whenever I miss my parents, I always stand at the edge of the path to look up at the bright moonlight in the sky, and silently listen to the village old people tell those magical and strange stories passed down from generation to generation. I'm often scared by these stories and don't dare to walk at night, and in the dead of night, I can only walk while talking to myself to give myself courage.
When I returned to my hometown after 8 years, the path was no longer the pitted mud road. At this time, the hometown is slowly prosperous, which is something to be happy about. However, the townspeople are no longer satisfied with sitting on the roadside and playing cards, but have moved their entertainment venues to the community's senior citizen activity centers.
They are the first to have a chance to see the world's most important and most importantly, the world's most important and most importantly, the world's most important and most important thing. The face of the hometown has changed, but those who carry a generation of people walking through the years and memories is a wonderful picture that can not be erased, belonging to our childhood and youth of those wonderful memories have always been in, and never forgotten.
Time has changed, the memory of that country road will always be accompanied by my childhood memories will always remain in my mind.