Just winter season in Qilu, not yet how cold, the temperature are not below zero, snow has not come, the leaves have not completely withered, often out of the house, I have not felt the cold of the arrival of winter cold.
The deepest feeling is nestled in the home, but also the most difficult period of time before the heating, early to put on the "mother brand" cotton pants, bloated like a pregnant woman, warm as spring.
The night covered with a thick quilt, can not resist the embrace of thirty-six degrees body temperature, until the "roommate" squeezed under the bed.
The leaves of the ginkgo tree are so beautiful that they can't withstand the big broom of the sanitation workers. The window of the once fruitful pomegranate tree has long been ripe leaves, leaving a few pieces of yellow leaves in the cold wind swaying.
My little black in this cold early winter as a mother, I gave it to build a small nest do not go to move in, they found a warm cranny, night and day cradling its two babies, but never felt the cold.
I drummed up that box of green myself, on the balcony, feel that they are also afraid of the cold ah, every night I will give it covered with grass quilt warmth, not to be frozen, so even if the winter, but also still green.
Papa planted the vegetables are still growing tenaciously in the small open space outside the wall, leeks have been prostrate in the ground, into hibernation, carrots are still vigorous, small oil spinach although the cold curled up, but still our table vegetables .
As far as the eye can see, the rural fields are still beautiful, and wheat has given the earth a green carpet.
There are still small flowers blooming tenaciously in the barren grass.
There are still sweet wild fruits outside the walls of my uncle's house, and I can pick a few without washing them, tilting my head and putting a handful in my mouth, and my heart is instantly filled with warm memories of my childhood.
When winter comes, it is easier to cherish and feel the warmth.