? The yellow earth building wall thatched house, a tree in front of the door of the zinnia flowers? When I was a kid, every spring, the yard where my grandmother lived was always full of clumps of bauhinia flowers.
It grows quietly in the corner of the yard, high branches, meandering, exploring the outside of the courtyard wall. In the February spring breeze, those gnarled branches are densely covered with purple flowers. A clump of children, a cluster of children, colorful. As the breeze blew, the faint fragrance of the flowers wafted gently through the yard. Hard-working bees, buzzing around the flowers up and down, as if dancing? The bees are dancing like a dance of eights.
Bauhinia is a spring feast for the bees, but a grand floral event for the little children who love flowers. Whenever the flowers bloomed at their peak, I was always like the bees, circling around the bush underneath it, or, bending down close to the branches below, sniffing its aroma, wow, no wonder the bees looked so joyful, the original flavor of the flowers was actually fragrant and enticing, the pollen of this zinnia brewed out of the honey, it must also be very sweet.
Just a sniff of its aroma in me is not enough, looking forward to it in the arms, forever intoxicated in this cluster of flowers. I found a delicate glass bottle from my mother, took the water inside and outside to wash clean, and then filled with a bottle of freshly drawn well water, and then, from the closet to find my mother's sarong around the head and neck, ran to the bauhinia, waved his sleeve to drive away those naughty bees, folded down a bauhinia, inserted in a glass bottle just filled with well water, placed in the main house of the bar on the top of the table, and Observe the beauty of its obsessive. Its thin pedicel is also purple-red, a small, soft pedicel, like a small umbrella evenly spread outward, the end of the umbrella is a cluster of purple flowers, like wisteria, like acacia, but also as if both are not like, so a small cluster of small clusters, densely packed with the entire branch of the flower. Even if you are scolded by the grandmother, but also can not stop me from folding the heart of the flowers, no matter whether it is said that I am naughty or naughty, I am in such a way to love the zinnia.
Bauhinia not only decorated the spring, embellished my childhood, and it also has a good, that is, its leaves. In summer, the zinnia grows round smooth green leaves. At this time, Grandma began to steam buns in the kitchen, until the wheat flour fermentation time, Grandma went to pick zinnia leaves, take the water to wash, evenly spread in the pot grate above, and then a circle of kneaded dough on the top of the washed leaves, cover the cage drawer, pull up the bellows, a short while, steaming with a smell of steamed buns came out of the pot, wow, it is really white and fragrant! How many years have passed, the flavor of this steamed buns, still in the memory of non-stop dazzling.
The years have passed, and it's been more than twenty years. Today, I am no longer that young girl. The hometown, with the passage of time has also changed its appearance. Grandma lived in the yard, long ago in some years renovated. Although the new yard is cement, the house is also with large glass windows, but every spring, see the park zinnia blossoms, will always think of grandma, think of grandma's yard with strong thoughts, think of a cluster of zinnias full of childhood memories.
Author: Shandong Sun Lixia
Public No.: New Yangtze River Literature