The hometown in Qiu Si's dream is still in our country, and it is my hometown after a long separation.

According to how many people are heartbroken, Jade Rabbit and Silver Toad are far from knowing.

On the night of Mid-Autumn Festival, the bright moon is like water, and ten thousand people look up, but they don't know which courtyard Qiu Si has fallen into. After a busy day, I called my mother at night.

Mother said that the osmanthus trees in the yard were golden and fragrant.

Qiu Si night, my mother said these words, as a son, I know my mother's good intentions. She didn't mention the Mid-Autumn Festival, perhaps because she didn't want to make me sad.

Pity the lonely laurel in the sky, and beg Heng E for less.

There is a osmanthus tree growing in the yard of childhood, which has its fragrance and nostalgia; Get a foreign land and it's over.

If osmanthus fragrans is an affectionate variety, it should bloom blue this year.

Blue is sad blue.

The cloister is an inch home, and the bright moon has become a thing of the past. There is light on my back and a moon on my back. I suddenly left my hometown and disappeared for ten years.

After ten years of wandering, hometown has become a noun under the wandering footsteps. This term is extremely simple, so simple that you can write any line. I started writing? A horizontal, a vertical, hometown disappeared, smoke everywhere, endless tears.

At that time, on the Mid-Autumn Festival, my mother would make moon cakes by herself.

Near the Mid-Autumn Festival, after the tenth day of the eighth lunar month, she set out to clean the moon cake mold that had been dusty for a year, stir-fry peanuts and sesame seeds, and grind the fried peanuts and sesame seeds. There is less sesame oil at home, and I have to walk a few miles to buy sesame oil at the small town mill.

My sister and I, as well as my brother and sister, will stare at each other intently. Starting with the fried peanuts and sesame seeds, we will start to drool and look forward to eating the moon cakes made by our mother as soon as possible.

On the Mid-Autumn Festival, my sister and I will give moon cakes to the elderly in the village with small bamboo baskets that my mother has already distributed. In the moonlight, I step on my own shadow, and every year I feel that the road is unexpectedly long and far away.

Really, the world is mysterious and the universe is vast.

When I can't help it, I will secretly eat pears or some grapes in the bamboo basket. I asked my sister about it alone, and she has already done it.

At that time, time was slow, and everyone was sincere and sincere. If you say something, it's a sentence.

Especially in my hometown, a small village on the edge of North China Plain. In my childhood, the door-to-door locks were also beautiful and the keys were exquisite.

If you lock it, people will understand.

Later, I left the small village with lonely steps. Since then, I have never eaten moon cakes made by my mother.

That memory is drifting away.

Maybe, it was a while.

Or, that was the past.

In the early spring of 20 15, my father left apricot trees with small buds that haven't turned red by the well in his hometown yard.

Father died of illness.

With my father's departure, half of my hometown died in my heart. I know this half will disappear with my mother's departure many years later.

If my parents are gone, is my hometown still there?

After my father left, my mother became more and more lonely at home. I told my mother many times to come and live with me in Sichuan.

Mother always refuses politely.

"When Xuan grows up, I'll stay with you for a few days."

"I get carsick by car and don't want to go anywhere."

"As long as you are good and I am not around, I will feel at ease."

Every time I talk about this, my mother always racked her brains and made up some reasons for me. Everyone is the monarch of a kingdom, the mother's kingdom, and it will always be that small village.

As her son, I certainly understand my mother's concern. It is impossible for a person to leave his hometown when he is old and reaches a certain age.

That's what moms do.

In the twilight of life, who doesn't want to leave the leaves behind.

Mother is old. Every time she calls, she always says on the phone. When people are old, it is easy to be lonely. It's hard to find someone to talk to at home alone.

On the phone, my mother would say that the old hen stopped laying eggs, and the little yellow dog became more and more disobedient. What's more, the wheat in the wheat field has begun to jointing.

Speaking of crop after crop in the field, my mother would sigh and say that she was old.

I was on the other end of the phone, so I listened to her quietly.

Actually, I like to hear my mother say that.

About that small village, it is only suitable for collection. Can't say, can't think, but can't forget. They can't become languages, they can't become languages, and once they become languages, they are no longer them.

Hometown in language is just my dream.

I've been away from home for nearly twenty years and gone for so many years. I still consider myself a factor in that small village.

I can't stick to my hometown all the time, but I want to know what happened there.

How many people, who have been wandering for half their lives, have brought a rich family business, full of children and grandchildren, and the pace, starting point and end point of life are, in the final analysis, the place where their hometown is located. This is the belief held by China people for thousands of years, simple but powerful.

My dream is also my belief and strength.

The three-character classic cloud: Make a name for yourself and show your parents. Because I don't want to humiliate my parents and live up to the yellow land in my hometown, I have been working hard.

How many years have passed and my original intention has not changed.

If nothing else, just because I was born and raised in Sri Lanka.

However, for those who left their hometown at a young age, to be more precise, those who have gone through years of vicissitudes, it may be said that their hometown has become their childhood lovers.

The love between them is as simple as a song.

Poetry in memory.

Those years were the best time in my life. However, the good days are gone forever, and the days when I am willing to exchange my life will never come back.

Never come back.

My hometown is so beautiful. But if I have to say her beauty, her beauty, I have no impression and no words.

As time goes by, my country is still in my country, and my hometown is my hometown for a long time.

It's life after all.

Today, my hometown is like a butterfly in Zhuang Zhoumeng's dream. I don't know if my hometown is my pillow dream, or is it often in my dream?

Perhaps, my hometown is still my hometown at that time. Over the years, it has been involved in my dreams, and in the distance, it calls me, calls me.

Why? I have nothing in return.

Sometimes, I think, even if I return home, what should I do?

Father is gone; Brothers and sisters have become families and have their own lives; Even the old house that raised me as a child collapsed in half a few years ago.

The moon seems to be at that time, and people seem to be at that time.

It is better to put my hometown, together with the bright moon, in my dream.

In the moonlight, scholar lang;

Riding a white horse and crossing the lotus pond;

In the dream, nursery rhymes faintly sounded.

And I'm still that teenager.