Prose on the fragrance of flowers
Prose on the fragrance of flowers1When the cool autumn wind blows the sky higher and farther away, when the lonely children look down on the south flying geese, when the green leaves of the trees turn into orange and yellow, and when the fruit hangs all over the branches, then it will come to the time when the chrysanthemums are perfumed again.
I like chrysanthemums, this one is the secret of my heart, I dare not say it, because I am afraid of others say I am a person of elegance. Why put bright roses, elegant peonies do not like, but prefer the lonely chrysanthemum? Then I have to say, I have my reasons.
I appreciate the calmness of the chrysanthemum.
A fragrant chrysanthemum blossomed peacefully in the yard, and delicate flower butterflies danced an unknown dance among the flowers. After the fog gradually cleared in the morning, under that golden sunlight, an old man carrying a hoe and a bamboo basket walked toward the courtyard. "Picking chrysanthemums under the east hedge, leisurely seeing the south mountain ......" he chanted the verse, striding into the yard with a leisurely gait. He was Tao Yuanming. The fragrance of chrysanthemums accompanied him around, and the cultivation of the fields gave him self-sufficiency; in his spare time, he would make a cup of light chrysanthemum tea with the water from the spring, and savor it alone; when he was busy, he would be accompanied by chrysanthemums, which was a great joy to him. I have to say, Tao Yuanming did live a very free and easy, he always exudes a different kind of transcendence and open-mindedness.
I appreciate the arrogance of chrysanthemums.
Do you still remember the Zhuangzi who wanted absolute freedom and decided to "drag his tail in the paint"? This heart as clear as autumn water, the shape of the untethered boat of the noble priest, although the world's unparalleled talent, but never bowed to the power and nobility, preferring to live a life of poverty. So do you also want to persuade him to enter the world, hoping that he can do for the country for the people to do a great cause? However, Zhuangzi had his own outlook on life. He was sure that he should be like a roc flying high, only the sky is his paradise, if someone forced to leave him in this noisy world, then he will lose the vitality of life. Therefore, we should not be reluctant, let the lonely and proud chrysanthemums always accompany him.
I appreciate the rigidity of the chrysanthemum.
Xiang Yu cut his own throat in Wujiang River, he thought he died with dignity, and that was his heroic nature. In this regard, many people do not understand, and I can only say that although a chrysanthemum withered, but the faint fragrance of the flowers, but forever fragrant for hundreds of generations.
In the season of chrysanthemum fragrance, I strolled in the chrysanthemum garden, admiring the light elegance of chrysanthemums, savoring the fragrance of chrysanthemums, and feeling the transcendence of that kind of temperament, which was subdued again and again.
Prose of the fragrance of flowers 2It was a full moon night, the moon fell a light, my daughter and I hand in hand to the playground walk.
The air was filled with the sweet fragrance of osmanthus, I greedily inhaled a few mouthfuls, and the fragrance penetrated my heart.
Following the fragrance, we came to the osmanthus bush.
"How can I not see osmanthus?" My daughter looked for flowers. Osmanthus is the smallest flower on earth, you see her so little, like the size of a grain of rice, pale yellow, a cluster of several, timidly hidden in the leaf axils, how will easily see.
"Pavilion rock under the cinnamon, the evening alone fragrant." Osmanthus not only small and bloom in mid-autumn, is not because of their own small, not with a thousand charming flowers in the spring brimming with favor, quietly fragrant in this mature season it!
When I was a child, I had never seen an osmanthus tree, all the memories of osmanthus are from the moon palace to cut the undefeated osmanthus tree, from a packet of air-dried osmanthus, from osmanthus cake, osmanthus sugar.
The bright moon is in the sky, looking at the moon palace, Wu Gang is selling trees, not a moment to rest. But tens of millions of years have passed, you see, the magical osmanthus tree is still fluffy and vibrant. Every mid-autumn, the tantalizing aroma wafting. I often wonder, there is such a magical osmanthus tree in the moon palace, is there any on earth? "Mountain temple in the moon in search of cinnamon", "stay because of the moon and cinnamon fall", Bai Juyi once in a high moon, light wind on the face of the night, wandering Tianzhu Temple in search of cinnamon. I looked up and gazed at the laurel tree in the moon: in this quiet night, will she also quietly sow a few seeds. I lingered in the osmanthus bushes, enjoying the unique fragrance of osmanthus while looking down to find it. I thought, the laurel tree here would not be the laurel sprinkled by the laurel to grow into!
Cinnamon sugar osmanthus cake is a childhood yearning for delicious. "Cigarette fire cinnamon sugar ---" in the movie there are often little boys and girls on the arm with a bamboo basket shouting, the heart imagined: that cinnamon sugar must be like a flower-like good-looking it.
One year in the Spring Festival, my father's friend visited and gave us a packet of air-dried osmanthus, which was the first time I saw osmanthus. "Why are they so small!" I sighed disdainfully.
My father stroked my head and said, "Don't look at the small size of osmanthus, the usefulness is not small. These days your voice is not not good, I fried cinnamon tea for you to drink look. Really God, after three days of drinking osmanthus tea, my mute voice actually brightened up a lot. My father used osmanthus flowers to make wine to drink, he said that osmanthus wine can soothe the tendons and vitalize the blood, help digestion, eliminate fatigue. My father also used osmanthus flowers to make osmanthus sugar and osmanthus cake, the sweet memory has always lingered in my heart.
When I grew up, I deepened my understanding of osmanthus, knowing that osmanthus can not only eat, can be used as medicine, but also can be extracted from the oil, the aroma of the distant long, very valuable. I no longer feel osmanthus small, whenever I smell the fragrant fragrance, I will stop the rush, with admiration, looking for osmanthus shadow.
Not to be delicate and charming, but to the aroma of pleasing people, to the practical benefit of people, this is the osmanthus flowers off the quality.
Yesterday, I took my daughter to walk on the way to the city square, suddenly from a short distance away came "bang" a loud noise, I do not know what happened, my daughter straight to my arms, I am also a brain a moment of fear, my footsteps stopped, look around, understand: across the road there is a big brother, wearing camouflage uniforms, is bowing to the people popping!
This "bang" not only exploded the popcorn, but also exploded my childhood memories of popcorn.
"The old filler thick popping corn, bang, the dolls swarmed to pick up the rice flower", this is my village in elementary school in the fourth grade, a class named Yuan Hong students with "swarming" sentences, the teacher in the classroom after reading, attracted the whole class! The teacher read it in class and it made the whole class laugh. The scene described in the sentence was the story of an old man named Li Jianhou who was popping popcorn on the street. When I was a child, that is, in the 1970s and 1980s, the popularity of popcorn in the hearts of children was no less than that of today's potato chips, shrimp crackers and chili fries. Whenever the old man who popped the popcorn came with his tools on his bicycle, he was surrounded by children, half out of curiosity, the other half because of the demand to eat the popcorn. At that time, I was not afraid of that "bang" sound, and now I'm an adult, but I'm a little afraid.
Look at the old complementary thick popcorn machine set up on the ground, the stove in the carbon fire also rose the flame, the children will pull the mother's corner, pestering hard to eat popcorn. At this time, the mother had no choice but to go home and take a rice liter to dig up half a liter of yellow corn kernels, pour out a handful of saccharin from a small bottle and mix it in, and then use the dustpan to shovel some of the black carbon, the long queue of the side of the nagging side waiting for the old complementary thick a family by a family of popcorn.
You can pop a lot of food, such as soybeans, black beans, rice, etc., but at that time soybeans, black beans, rice is a rarity for our general family, adults are not willing to take out of the popcorn to eat, nine times out of ten with the use of corn. Looked at the mother to the old fill thick corn liter to the black hand, "brush pull" a pour into the mouth of the popcorn machine, the old fill thick a hand to turn the machine's handle, a hand with a fire shovel to add black carbon in the stove, the fire reflected the children's faces, everyone with a look of anticipation, waiting, with the wind box With the bellows pumped one after the other, the popcorn stove clockwise rotation, wait until the old complementary thick look at the dial on the machine, estimated to the fire, stood up, like a long tail of the big bag connected to the back of the popcorn machine, the dolls will naturally put their hands tightly over their ears, waiting for the loud bang.
After the sound, the expansion of white fat rice flowers from the machine to run into the black bag, sometimes the bag is not strict, the rice will be exposed to fall on the ground, the children will "swarm" to fall on the ground to pick up and put into their mouths, do not mind dirty. Mom used a large porcelain basin to put the rice flower good, from the pocket took out a penny into the old patch thick hand, I followed her, jumped and ran back home. Because of the mixing of saccharin, so the popping out of the rice flower and sweet and crispy, for that age of us, is simply a delicacy on earth.
Although nowadays there are many types of snacks, popcorn is also common, a variety of flavors, but I miss the most is still a child of the old complementary thick popping out of the rice flower. If you're alive, the old man must be a hundred years old, and that's hardly possible.
Now this old craft has become a kind of distant feelings, today happened to happen, no longer delayed, rushed home to get the material, while the master in, for his daughter to pop a pot of fragrant rice flowers!
The time of the 'Pathfinder', the years of red dust, carelessly took away the past, quietly took away the watery years, how many stories so lightly skimmed, and how many memories so light and shallow out of the rambling to say.
The past is like the wind, memories like yesterday. The year on the field valiant young man now where? That year wearing a school uniform, riding a bicycle carefree through the campus of the large and small streets of the people, and now where? Years later, back to the hometown, memories of the year you, think of the year she, the red dust is very small, that day a goodbye, why the shadow and then difficult to find, the trail is difficult to find, the teenager also do not know where to go.
The river willows are still still, the grass on the green stone plate is still luxuriant, the old city is still unusual, the childhood song is still echoing in the ear, so I thought I could be so young, so I thought I could always be so ignorant, the gears of the years but the non-stop tumbling, rolled through the season of flowers and rain, and then rolled over the crush of the watery years.
As if not properly enjoy the joys of childhood has grown up, as if not properly feel the beauty of the student era has graduated, as if not properly experience the youthful flair is about to run three.
A short life, the most beautiful time than the youth, but we are always in the unknowingly wasted years, indistinctly missed the number of years, how much time to live up to.
Ximu Rong once said in a poem: people actually miss their whole life, miss yesterday and miss today. I'm not sure if this is the case, but I'm sure it's not. The way the inevitable loss, missed how many yesterday, missed how many feelings, and missed how many Cheng beautiful scenery.
Counting the years, the scenery around the mountains a course of water a course, carrying a song and dance and a course. Countless beautiful scenery from the eyes skipped, look back that instant memory has been fixed for eternity. The good times are always too fast, look at a glance, road over a ride, drunk a time has been luxury, has to meet.
You see, in fact, a lot of times along the way we did not get also never lost.
A lifetime of storytelling to recount, half a lifetime of memories of light and shallow to recall, the depths of the flow of years, calm and unhurried, the fragrance of flowers.
The advent of the fall also means that the temperature drops, and then continues to the harsh winter. There are no more girls on the street overflowing with youth and enthusiasm naked figure, replaced by young men and women dressed in thin fall shirt shivering walked by. When looking at the people who always let see not only from the soles of the feet came a cool feeling, hands will involuntarily wrapped tightly on the clothes. Cold, and sometimes it is really cold through the heart, especially in such a fall.
The fragrance of cinnamon has been a few days, these days the first thing to do after getting up is to open the window, so that the dreary room can be filled with the faint fragrance of cinnamon. Downstairs, a few laurel trees are in full bloom, and I kind of wish they wouldn't all bloom at once, one by one, one by one, so that the scent in the air can last throughout the fall, or even early winter, or longer. My daughter went to the downstairs lawn during vacation and picked up some freshly fallen osmanthus flowers, put them in red silk wrapped in wedding candy, and placed them in each room. The first time she did this, she put the cinnamon flowers in a cup and placed it at the foot of my bed while I was napping. The moment I woke up from my dream, I smelled the strong fragrance of osmanthus flowers and thought to myself, "Are all the osmanthus flowers downstairs really blooming, and the fragrance is so strong? Only when I got up did I realize the cinnamon in the cup. Walking out of the room, my daughter's voice overpowered the sound coming from the TV she was watching: "Mom, do the cinnamon flowers smell good?" "It smells good. I knew you put it there." I didn't see my daughter's face, but I knew that at the moment she must be full of smugness. Soon after that she went downstairs and put cinnamon at the end of her own bed as well ...... So, no matter which room I walked into, I could smell the pungent fragrance of cinnamon.
I remember when I was in my hometown, although I had heard that osmanthus is very fragrant, but I never smelled it, so I was very curious and I was looking forward to the day when I smelled it and felt like it, so I had to plant one at home. Later, I finally smelled it and planted one at home, but my passion for osmanthus has faded. People are always like this, once you have it, you will ignore its beauty. Just occasionally when it opens, will sigh a little, the other is seldom to pay attention to, until later once to pull weeds in the flower beds found that osmanthus leaves full of worms, the original green leaves were bitten by the bugs face to face, full of injuries. So rush to find insecticidal potion, learning the drug farmer model spraying, until the potion a strong downward drip, only to stop spraying. Not a few days, there is no trace of insects, just look at the leaves are still heartbroken. Later left home, rare to go home a few times a year, but every time I go home to check the flower beds of those plants and trees, which grew taller, which I was not there when the flowers, which was attacked by the bugs. Later in Lin'an specially bought a house with a large balcony, want to plant all the flowers and trees in this large balcony. My husband has been planning for this balcony for a long time, but he didn't have the heart to put it into practice. But I will still bring some new life when I go back to my hometown and watch them slowly grow in their new environment and blossom. We don't have to replant laurel; the neighborhood has planted it in every corner. So, in every fall, we live in a space with the fragrance of osmanthus, feel a warmth and satisfaction in addition to home.
The day before yesterday at dinner, my daughter had the idea of picking some osmanthus to dry and brew osmanthus tea, and the family unanimously agreed, but felt that picking a little cruel, and finally decided to shake down some of the fast-falling osmanthus. I stayed behind to clean up the dishes, and the father and daughter went downstairs. The two of them went downstairs with gusto, and when they came back up after a while of busy work, my daughter's face was full of undisguised smiles, and she was walking with a bounce in her step. Pick the bugs, in addition to the garbage, pick off some of the residual branches of dry branches, soon, yellow pure osmanthus appeared in front of our eyes, soft and fluffy. The next day, still a sunny day, my dad found the osmanthus flowers on the table and he put them in the sun. My daughter came back from school and glanced towards the balcony, then ran over to me and said, "Mommy, you'll have cinnamon tea soon." "Uh-huh," I agreed as I sat in front of the computer, reveling in the happiness I got because of the osmanthus flowers.
Prose of flowers 6Dreams will always be written in this warm yellow fall, but swept away the autumn depression. Facing the autumn wind slowly, with the mood of the clouds, drifting into the dream. People often brush shoulders with success because they do not insist on the last moment. Life is like a dream, the vicissitudes of life, you always have to learn to be frank, then you will be in the encounter setbacks to harvest a persistent, in the success to maintain a color; learn to be silent, you learn to be brave to face all the gossip hostility; all the happiness will follow you. Patience, is a kind of unyielding.
I dare not say that I am an absolutely good character of the woman, the occasional small emotions can not be avoided ......
A few days ago, but also because of some things and some people, the heart does not feel good for a few days. Sometimes I really do not understand men, why always so chauvinistic, is not their bones stay in the ancient thought, really very angry sometimes.
Now life, most of the run to the well-off, but the material society, we have to work, every day, we are very hard out of the struggle, back home, who want to idle a little bit, then the home of the work of who should do, I think they are not willing to do it! No way, forget the tired body, cooking dinner, clean up the house, naturally fell on my head. However, men do not do these you do not want to be there to say long, pointing fingers, once or twice people may endure, but over time, who does not have a temper, daytime work gas not to mention, back home but also be nagged by you, the heart is naturally aggrieved, but can not find anyone to fight, so you can only hear their own voices in the end, and their own quarrels, talk about it.
Always think, those days are happy, look back, you realize that you are only walking in the season on the tip of the heart, like the thorns of the green vine, can not be pinpointed. Sometimes, the heart tired than physical fatigue more people can not eat. The days are always suffering, and I would like to have someone to lean on, even if it's just to talk to me.
Another September, gold flowers all over the place, that piece, the mountains, so remembered you ___ my favorite two baskets, we agreed, to the day of the sun, but also to the old chrysanthemums, *** words mulberry outlet, cups inviting the moon. It is a pity that the chrysanthemums are fragrant, nine nine suns, dear friends are difficult to get together. I don't know if there is also this flower in Jiangnan, outside the plug, when you are watching the flower, can you ever miss me in your heart, think of me. Under the Bodhi tree, I put my hands together, wishing my best friend blue face peace and joy, I dragged Hongyan a little letter, cool day remember to add a piece of clothing.
Although, this city gives me too much loneliness, but there are small Ding, little old man you two all the way with me, unhappy, the first thought is that you two, happy to have a good time, the first to share the people are you two, you two always say that this life can be a confidant friends of the detecting girl is your honor. I want to say, detecting the girl's life with you two confidants is really good, but also my proudest thing.
Year after year, this flower with the same, the deceased end of the world line, the night of the Chung Yeung, difficult to get together, miss the people, drunk in front of the house, his hometown there is no this chrysanthemum wine, there is no the same line of greetings .........
Prose of the flowers 7Once again, stood in front of the green tiles and white walls of the house, exuding the smell of mold, the heart but there is no trace of strangeness. There is not a trace of strangeness in the heart.
"Knock, knock, knock" through the dark living room, I pushed open the door precisely, a cinnamon fragrance wafted, driving away the pungent smell. She must have come to help me clean, there were bunches of osmanthus flowers on the table and bed that she had picked and placed from the osmanthus tree in the yard. Looking at these flowers, looking at them, I fell into the memories of my childhood.
When I was a child, I did not grow up in the company of my mom and dad, but under her care, I grew into what I am now. I came to my grandmother's house in the season when the osmanthus flowers were in full bloom. Just came to my grandmother's house, I opened my voice, crying and shouting, because I don't like the darkness of the house with this musty smell, and even hated her, hunchback waist, with a broken crutch, teeth yellow, face yellow because of years of work. Her teeth were falling out and her mouth leaked when she spoke. Instead of coaxing me, she took my hand and went to the backyard of the house, where there was a laurel tree in the very center of the yard, except that it was just too young, like me. But it produced many small pale yellow flowers. Looking at the flowers and smelling the faint fragrance of the flowers, I immediately stopped crying. "It's yours." Grandma said softly, "Really?" I was very excited, then a bowl of water to the tree, until Grandma did not let me water, I had to put down the bowl resentfully, but did not realize that the small tree has been nearly watered by me crooked down.
The next day, I got up early, and found that the little tree children in the sunrise neutral straight. I was watered like a mud puddle of soil dry. My face was very excited: "Wow, the little tree child is so powerful, drink up all the water!" So I played with the little tree in the sunshine and the scent of the flowers. She also got up, just a little pale in the face, hiding in the corner, watching my movement, with a big smile on her face, but then, coughed a few times in a row.
In the grandmother's house for a period of time, but I am not lonely, because I have a small tree child this partner ah. I'm not sure if I'm going to be able to get a good deal on this, but I'm sure I'm going to be able to get a good deal on this! Because a few days in a row of heavy rain, the bamboo in front of the door are blown down, but the small tree has never fallen, has been standing, such as columns standing straight. Naive I thought: "The little tree child must have the power of God, I must see it cast the appearance of God's power."
A month later, in a sweltering afternoon, the rain was pouring down, and the drops were the size of soybeans. The door creaked open, my head exposed, looking toward the courtyard of the laurel tree, but saw a shadow that I was not expecting: a hunched back, a walking stick, actually - she? It turned out that it was her care that made the little tree grow strong! Just see her hard to pull her feet out of the soil, step by step over, her poncho covered the canopy of the little tree children, but he was drenched by the rain. Somehow my eyes felt like they were fogged over. It wasn't until then that it dawned on me. Think of the late night that kicked the quilt for the extremely poor sleeping me, cover the quilt figure; think of the early morning in the kitchen busy, for the frail and sickly me seriously cooking egg congee figure; think of the day of the market on crutches, step by step, for the greedy me to buy snacks figure ...... I can not help but feel guilty for myself, disgusted with her dark and musty smell of the house, disgusted with her old ugly touch, dislike her buying snacks not to the taste. At this moment, I realized that I was so unbelievable, I am not the tender little tree, she is pouring all her efforts to care for me, love me.
The rain stopped, and the sun shone on her body, and her drenched clothes glowed brightly. She seemed to be taller, with a kind smile on her face, like the osmanthus flowers. Ah, it smells so good, it's the scent of osmanthus! I closed my eyes and took a deep breath of the most beautiful aroma in the world, it was the smell of my grandmother ......