The air in my hometown is very clear. The vast farmland, the boundless wheat field, the air is upward floating oxygen ions. A deep inhalation, the heart is relaxed, the whole lungs are cleaned again. When the rapeseed flowers bloom, the sweet smell is everywhere, the bees are buzzing and busy, and the butterflies are dancing in the flowers. When the rain is over, the air is full of the fragrance of the soil, which is exclusively belonging to the countryside of the fragrance of the soil.
The scenery in my hometown is very monotonous. The whole field to find wild black eggplant, soybean grain so big, round, black black small fruit, every time from the heavy vines to find it, are surprised, pick off, a hand into the mouth, mouth and hands are stained with black purple. When sesame seeds are ripe, grasshoppers and crickets are flourishing. Children love to catch crickets in the harvested sesame fields, put them in bottles, and put the grasshoppers on dogtails. There is a lot of thatch growing along the field paths, pulling out the roots of the white thatch, washing them in the ditch, and the sweet juice squeezing out from the gap between the teeth and flowing onto the tongue.
The hometown is full of mud and dirt. Before the government did not greatly improve the rural environment, there was no cement road in the village. Whenever it rains, the whole village seems to be isolated from the outside world, and everyone stays at home, and the only pastime after dinner is to sit under the eaves of the house and watch the rain fall. After the rain clears, the wet soil becomes the best toy for the children. The first thing you need to do is to get a good look at the color of the water, and then you can see the color of the water!
The hometown is full of dirt and odor. Early in the morning, woke up in the rooster's crowing, chimneys have risen smoke, adults began to do the first meal of the day. Click, soot with the crisp sound of soaring, and then disappeared, that is the sound of adults break the firewood fire cooking. Crackling and popping, the meal was ready in no time. The adults who came out of the stove house had dust on their heads and bodies. In the yard, the chickens and ducks cooed and quacked, and there was chicken shit and duck poop all over the place. In one day, the adults cleaned up the yard once, and then no longer move the broom.
The hometown is always very quiet. The woman at the south end of the village called the children home for dinner, and the old man in the field at the north end of the village has carried a hoe and is ready to go home. When the neighbors came to the house, when the time out of the door, all heard clearly. That kind of quiet, with the world, addictive.
In recent years, the government asked to improve the rural environment, the dirt road into a cement road, the family built a small villa, people also changed into a fur coat ...... the only thing that remains unchanged is that the hometown is still the place where the most people hang on to. Covered a new house, but can not get away from the acreage, wearing a fur, but not throw away that native rural households.
What we miss is not our hometown, but our childhood.
We miss not the hometown, but the childhood.