? By more than a hundred families composed of mountain villages, housing construction quiet and peaceful, village in the sunny loess, next to the mountains and a water, the four seasons, beautiful scenery. Sitting in the mountains to enjoy the clouds, is my childhood, the most beautiful scenery, to see that blue, blue sky, like cotton as snow-white clouds, free, free floating; at the same time, but also to see the mountains, with a variety of trees, full of my childhood childish dreams and innocent curiosity.
When I was a kid, I sneaked out of the house when adults weren't paying attention, and asked my friends of the same age in the village to go down to the stream in the ditch with larks, and shouted to the sky with a long whistle, and that unrestrained ah, I could imagine something else, and I was naked, and I went down for a while, and then I finally climbed to the top of the ditch on the north side, and I had a good look at the neighboring villages, and I looked at the white clouds floating around overhead. The first thing you need to do is to get to the top of the ditch and see the faces of the neighboring villages, look at the white clouds overhead, and enjoy the loess plateau and the waters.
? Sitting on the plateau and looking down, see halfway up the mountainside, a piece of uneven levels of horizontal terraces, like a jade belt, inlaid in the mountains; loess villages around, as well as in front of the house, behind the house, green trees, like a green emerald, decorated with the silence of the small mountain village. There is also a rugged, dirt road leading out of the village, footprints engraved with my childhood years; engraved with the folks, in and out of the fields, the hardships of labor; engraved with the deceased to take the last walk, the relatives of the sorrow of tears; engraved with the village young people, the male when the marriage, the female when the marriage, the beginning of a new and beautiful life; engraved with the yellow land of the students, jumping out of the "farm door! "The best memories of the moment!
Spring, summer and autumn are the most fascinating seasons in the Loess Plateau mountain village, and there are some unnamed wildflowers in every vacant wasteland in the Loess Plateau, blooming in different seasons, and you can see the style of the mountains and the fields and smell the fragrance of the wildflowers, and the wildflowers, which are unrestrained and allowed to grow naturally, are colorful and colorful, and they are very colorful, and they are very colorful. The first thing you need to do is to take a look at the flowers, and watch the butterflies and bees busy, so that you can revel in the nature of the world, enjoying the infinite coziness.
For an innocent boy, the most intoxicated is the night gradually fell, covered the village of the moment, a different view. The whole village, like a shadow, like covered with a layer of mysterious veil, fresh air, diffused with a faint smell of earth, mixed with the most familiar fragrance of the meal; also see every family, the roof curls up to do dinner cooking smoke, autonomous floating, beautiful, some cooking smoke, like a long dragon, in the sky of the five-colored clouds, the game of the circling; some like the phoenix, such as the tide of the sea of flowers, dancing and dancing. At the same time, also from the village entrance, came the mother loudly, anxiously calling their children's breast name, a group of playful teenagers, only to know the time to go home!
Loess plateau of my hometown, the night of the small mountain village, is more quiet and peaceful, the entire small mountain village consists of more than twenty families, sleeping at night, at that time, as if there has never been a theft. Because the village farmers, each family has a watchdog, if there are strangers or outlaws, taking advantage of the night, quietly into the village, the first to be found by the neighboring farmers of the dog, began to "woof woof" barking, and then the whole village of the watchdogs, "woof woof! Then all the village's watchdogs, "Woof woof woof" barking in succession, to ensure the long-term security of the village, than the current high-tech monitors are still useful, the family raised watchdogs, more than the police have a deterrent effect. Until the danger is lifted, the watchdogs raised by the families, and stopped barking, the small village to maintain a graceful posture, continue to sleep.
The hamlet is like a peaceful old man, quietly guarding his home, the hillside of a piece of neatly arranged horizontal terraces, like his face full of wrinkles; full of trees high mountain beams, like he has weathered the vicissitudes of the wind and rain, the spine of the greatness; the bright moonlight at night, to her selflessly draped in a silvery robe; the sky is full of winking eyes of the stars, telling the ancient legend; the gentle mountain winds, to the She sang a lullaby, the small mountain village knowingly slept!
Unfortunately, "time flies like an arrow, and the sun and the moon are like a shuttle hasten the youth." When those ignorant teenagers, has today out of the beautiful mountain village, outside the prosperous world to roam, began to wind, rain, living in the city of cement, steel composed of the middle of the castle, running around in foreign lands strange land, fear and trembling struggle, can no longer smell the faint scent of wildflowers; can not see the face of the kind folks, naive smile; all day long in the workplace, faced with the A smile, not a smile of the bizarre face, sent thoughts, only heartbreaking pain. Life, survival is not easy, only a faint sadness. The passage of time, really let us know a lot, a lot.
We can only borrow the "words" of the people who do not eat earthly fire, to do the spring and autumn of the years, dance a piece of plain prose chapter, show a party of the water long grace, let the wind fade into prosperity, the mundane read into the quiet. The troubles used and the mood of the unpleasant are abandoned, so that the text, attached to my beautiful hometown in the Great Northwest every night in the dream.
Regardless of how the world changes, the time change, the soul of the traveler, early in the hometown of every sinew, because every inch of the yellow soil of the hometown, there are traces of my naked rolling crawl; ditch terraces on the ground, there are footprints of my dreams; the village of the dirt road to the outside world, there is the identification of my arduous studies; more importantly, in the Great Northwest on the yellow soil, there is the same simple and simple and kind-hearted fathers and mothers, and the same as the loess, and the same as the loess. The good-hearted folks and loved ones, they are always so reminiscent, stationed in that quiet, peaceful home; there is today in other countries, wandering wanderer's roots, there is always my last place of belonging, perhaps, only there, to breathe the earth and sky, the cleanest air.