(Bluestone slab).
After a period of noise, the peach blossoms are gone, the apricot blossoms are gone, the pear blossoms and plum blossoms are also thanked, and the yellow cauliflower that spreads all over the mountains is gone.
On the plum trees, pear trees, peach trees, and apricot trees, the branches that had been bent a few days ago have been hidden in the green leaves, and the small green fruits like sugar balls are trying to squeeze out of the green leaves.
The weeping willows by the pond, a few days ago, spit out new green, at this time have been made into green trees, graceful, reflecting the water surface, like a bride dressing up in the mirror, it seems that she is still a little shy, and secretly asked: "Is it time to dress up?"”
The yellow cypress tree on the bank of the river, also shook up, became angry, held up an umbrella of emerald green, took on a new look, stood there, overlooked, I don't know which guest it is seeing off, or which distinguished guest is coming.
The rape in the field has faded to the yellow flowers, and the rows of bulging vegetable pods are obliquely on the branches, and the rape stalks that were still holding their heads high a few days ago are all bent over, and they are happy to contain fruitful results.
In the bean field, the butterfly-like bean flowers have long faded, some of the green bean leaves have become green and yellow, some have become green and black, and rows of bean horns are exposed from the gradually thinning bean leaves, happily exposed to the long-awaited spring sun.
As far as the eye can see, the green ears of wheat are raised high from the green leaves, and their hair stands on end with excitement, row after row, like a whole team of soldiers ready to go.
In the vegetable garden of the farmhouse, the potatoes are growing vigorously, and when the wind blows, it sets off green waves, and the flowers or purple or white flowers dance with the waves, jumping lightly, and the warm sunlight sprinkles on the green space, flashing green, purple, green, and yellow streamers.
In the dry land, corn seedlings have grown, red seedlings have grown, and in the seedling fields, rice seedlings have grown. It seems that in the blink of an eye, this magical field, I don't know what new green will be added.
The jade belt-like river river, in this hills and fields, winds from the north and winds to the south. At this moment, if you are driving a small boat, you will sail down the river, and suddenly you will sail into the poem of "A Landscape Green".
The sun rose a pole high, and the golden light sprinkled on the hills, the woods, the countryside, the villages and towns, dragging out large and small lights and shadows for them.
On the slopes, under the hills, in the fields, in the soil, the peasants who ploughed the fields, raked the fields, pulled weeds and dug the soil, and planted melons and beans, reflected the red light on their faces, shouting and shouting, floating one after another, as if competing with the sun shining on the bend of the mountain.
In the pond, the hemp duck and the yellow duck are more numb and yellow by the sun, like a small boat, swimming leisurely on the water surface, lost in the sparkling waves.
The main roads and small roads in the fields crisscross and criss-cross, entering and exiting villages and courtyards, winding in streams and hills, connecting verdant bamboo forests and woods, and crawling on terraces and slopes like moon bends.
I can't see idlers along the way, sometimes I see a person and a horse, carrying a carry, before and after the horse, turn out from under the mulberry shade, slowly approach, and slowly go away.
In the courtyard surrounded by tall and low green bamboos, you can vaguely see the rural primary school with white walls and black tiles, bursts of singing and chanting, through the green bamboo forest, floating out, a realistic nursery rhyme, leisurely rhythm in the clear and green air in March:
In front of the house and behind the house. Plant melons and beans.
Sow melons and get melons. Sow beans and get beans.
Night fell, and the sky, which had been blue just now, soon became pitch black, and I couldn't see my fingers when I reached out.
The dog in the yard bit a few times, but before it could reach the empty night sky, it died down.
At the corner of the courtyard, a few wisps of yellow light came through, and a few bright pots burning with diesel fuel swayed into the courtyard, and there was still smoke on the light. It's the dog baby, Zhang Yimei, them.
Luo Manzi came out, Luo Si came out, and Jin Sheng also came out with a bright pot.
Everyone rolled up their sleeves to their arms, their trousers were thigh-level, they all carried a rice loll on their backs, and they held a bamboo clip made of Nan bamboo slices in their hands. When the people had waited and set off, seven or eight lamps floated to the field, and then dispersed and went down to the paddy field. The bright pot is dangling in the paddy field, and the mud that has only been ploughed a few days ago is one ridge high and one ridge low, exposed in half of the water, and it is clearly visible. The water is clear and shiny, and the mud is lubricated and slippery.
On the third day of the lunar calendar, the weather is already hot, and on a clear night, it is cool, and the yellow eels in the water are just coming out and lying on the mud ridge to enjoy the coolness. The children of the peasant family also happened to have the pleasure of fighting yellow eels at night.
The yellow eel in March has tender meat and fresh taste. When the mouth is greedy, he goes home overnight, kills and eats overnight, or boils artillery yellow eel, or burns blood tablets, and then makes a bright pot, goes to the field to pull a few fresh celery, washes it, kneades it into a few pieces, and puts it in the pot. It's delicious, it's really a mountain and sea delicacy, no, it's a local taste, a pure local taste, and it also has the aroma of the earth.
The mountains and fields were quiet, occasionally there were babies crying three or two, the window lights did not turn on, and the dogs did not bite a word, and soon returned to tranquility. I only heard the sound of whirring water with muddy feet, and the sound of picking up a yellow eel and throwing it into the rice basket with his backhand.
It's dark, you can't see the courtyard, you can't see the distant mountains, you can't see the wild paths, and in the quiet Tianwan, you can only see a few fishing fires, like the elves of the night, shaking and flickering.
The weather was hot, and the fields were bursting with green flames.
Liu Si's father poured a handful of dung water on the sorghum seedling field, stretched out, looked at the sky, and said to himself: "This day, I'm afraid of hail!."”
Will it?The sun is so big, the sky is clear, it is unlikely to rain, can it hail?
Adults say that hail, also known as snow eggs, are as big as eggs, falling down, clattering through the tiled house, and the small one is no more than the size of a finger, falling on the tiled house, tinkling, like a handful of iron peas sprinkled on the roof.
Listening to Liu Si's father make a weather forecast, he looked forward to it curiously in his mind in the afternoon: Come down and take a look, the hail as big as an egg should not be smashed on your head.
That night, the wind and rain were blowing, and I woke up from the dream, it was already the middle of the night, but I didn't hear the "eggs" clattering through the roof, nor did I hear the jingle of the "iron peas", only the howling wind of the rain, and the whistling of the bamboo forest and plantain cheering down the bamboo forest and plantains.
The day dawned, the wind and rain have long stopped, climb high and look, the heaven and earth are like jade, fields and villages, distant mountains and near water, a wash is clear, jade and ice clear.
The bamboo forest in front of the courtyard is verdant and dripping, the plantain with branches and leaves is as green as jade, the peach, plum, apricot and pear next to the village are green and beautiful, and the wheat fields and rape that are about to ripen in the field are like a green screen.
The pomegranates on the side of the bamboo fence are green, fat, red and thin, and the roses with dew are happily spitting out red in the greenery. The thorny lotus and wild rose on the side of the mountain cliff bloom with white, red, yellow, and pink smiles.
On the big roads and small roads, the people who rushed to the scene came, in twos and threes, in groups.
They carried a burden, a basket on their backs, and a blue, some led a ewe, followed by three or two live lambs, some carried a big bamboo basket, which contained seven or eight little piglets, and chirped and muttered, and some picked a wide vegetable basket, which put sea peppers, eggplants, pumpkins, and vegetable seedlings that could not be named, fresh and fresh.
A peasant woman, holding a basket in one hand, cherries on the left, gardenia on the right, cherries are red like agate, gardenias are blooming like snow, all lined with green leaves, fresh and dripping, and also walked along the path, through the wheat field and seedling fields.
They greeted the rising sun, came in an endless stream, and greeted the rising sun, towards the riverside field towering on the bank of the river, and followed one after another.
Cherry red, gardenia white, figure black. A pool of turquoise river, together with the blue sky of late spring, are reflected in the fresh clear waves.