"Whenever I am lonely, I will think of everything in my hometown." Listening, I can't help but feel sour eyes, straight at my heart, faint sad tunes and unpretentious lyrics, but they are so intoxicating. ...
"When I left home, jujube trees were full of flowers." I always left with my own sadness.
If you like a song, you can listen to it unscrupulously, and the single is played repeatedly. From getting up in the morning to going to bed at night, I often listen whenever I have the chance and often hear my own voice.
Listening to music is not only good to listen to, but also suitable for your mood at that time.
"The jujube tree in my hometown, along with the old house I once lived in, has many childhood memories and remembers the road I have traveled." I think of our old house, full of laughter and hope. When I was a child, the jujube tree in the yard was our best desire in autumn.
I first liked jujube trees when I was about six or seven years old. I'm looking forward to jujube trees blooming in spring. I watched the little jujube blossom all over the branches, and some of them fell to the ground with the wind and rain. I asked my father, "Dad, will jujube flowers stop growing?" Dad said, "No, the jujube on the tree began to grow after the jujube flowers fell." Jujube can't be eaten in a hurry, and it will grow in autumn. "
I looked at the jujube flowers on the ground again and imagined the heavy branches of jujube trees covered with dates.
Old people often say, "July 15 is bordeaux, and August 15 is clean." Early August is the best season for jujube harvest. Choose a sunny day to date.
First of all, my father climbed up the tree with a cloth bag in his hand, stood among the branches and picked the big red dates without bug eyes and put them in the bag.
Mother laid two big cloth bags under the tree, and my brother and I leveled the corner. At this time, my father will throw a handful of dates in time and watch us scramble to eat. Jujube was crisp and sweet, and he continued to pick it with a smile.
After my father picked up all my pockets, he came down and gave the dates to my mother to put away. I have to be washed by my mother, dipped in wine and enlarged in the jar. Usually, a bowl is buckled on the jar mouth, sealed with mud and placed under the table where it does not matter. We can not only see that we are not allowed to open it every day, but also provoke our brothers and sisters to climb under the table to smell the dates from time to time.
We often look at the jar and look forward to the Spring Festival, looking forward to eating the drunken dates inside, which is another taste, soft and sweet. But I dare not open the jar without permission. This can only be opened during the Chinese New Year, and it can also entertain children of relatives and friends.
Father started dating, but we hid aside and picked up dates while eating. Even if the date falls on us, we don't care. When we finish eating, my father always leaves some top dates on the tree. Father said, birds peck and eat!
Father still has to knock out many jujube leaves, he said, so that there will be more jujube in the coming year.
Up to now, it has become an extravagant hope to see the jujube trees in the yard once, let alone play the jujube tree game again!
Although the old house is still there, things have changed, no one has lived in it for many years, and the yard is full of weeds. Just like our hearts and grass, we must go out of that yard, that village, that place where we were born and raised, that land full of sweat from generation to generation.
Sometimes, wandering in the color of neon lights in cities, we often feel that we don't know where our home should be and where our final destination is.
"Jujube trees, jujube trees in my hometown, are you still fragrant as the years go by?"
"Jujube, jujube in my hometown ..."