Essays about picking tea

Thursday, April 2, is a beautiful day in spring.

Yesterday, there was a misty spring rain, and at night there were still a few wisps of smoke-like drizzle, falling on people's hair and skin, feeling slightly cold. Revealing warmth. There was only a thin layer of rainwater on the cement basketball court on campus, but it splashed wet the children's chasing and laughter; the cinders on the track had not yet been wetted, so they were soft when you stepped on them; occasionally, the cinders popped out from the camphor leaves. A few sparrows or thrushes chirped across the campus, frightened yet graceful.

In the early morning, the mountains have just been put away, and the scene of the spring rain and the clearing is really refreshing. The mountains, rivers, and campuses are clean and refreshing, and the branches of the grass and trees seem to have sprouted over an inch of yellow, purple, or pink-green buds overnight. The smoke from the kitchen is also filled with a bit of joy of spring.

Returning from my morning run, I heard from my colleagues that two eighth-grade classes were going to Jinziwan to pick tea. I really wanted to participate. One could go on an outing, and the other could meet the senior friend who owned the tea farm. I work in the school library and don't have any classes in these two classes, so I can't go with them. Fortunately, the library is closed on Thursday, just housekeeping, so you can take care of yourself. I asked the school for permission and it was approved.

The Jinziwan Tea Farm is in the mountains behind the school, only two or three kilometers away from the school. It is a tea farm opened by Chen Junxin of the County Traffic Police Brigade - a sunny hillside with an area of ??50 to 60 acres, with terraces The ridges of tea rows are filled with sweet-scented osmanthus trees that are as tall as one person and as thin as an arm. This is the second year of tea picking. During the Qingming Festival last year, the fifth grade students went there to pick tea. I followed the class. The fragrance of green tea and spring osmanthus still lingered in my heart. However, the fragrance of the pink osmanthus in the garden was filled with the fragrance of autumn tea. I don’t know when I will be able to taste it.

During school breakfast, four eight-seater school buses drove into the campus one after another, and then drove out of the campus one after another loaded with students. The school bus slowly drove up the winding mountain road, and the students' joy and excitement filled the small carriage. Some stretched their hands out of the car windows to invite the spring breeze; some pointed at the purple-red buds that had just sprouted from the chun trees beside the road ridge, and their mouths seemed to be about to drool; some looked at the branches and grass. Startled flocks of thrushes or sparrows fly by and then settle down in trance... The noisy crickets are still hibernating in the rapeseed fields that are just full of green pods, and the cuckoos have not yet sang to urge farmers to pick up the grain early. "Singing. The paths in the mountains are looming among the trees. There are few farmers driving oxen and plows on the road. Occasionally, there are only one or two pairs of farmers who are over fifty or even older working in the fields. This is a unique scene in mountain villages for more than 20 years. Farmers in their prime have gone to Shanghai, Zhejiang, or Shenzhen... Since the reform and opening up, mountain villages have become youthful, and the youth close to this mountain village The people are old and weak. I can't help but ask myself: How would Lian Po feel if he were still alive today?

The pine forest, cypress forest, and bushes flashed past the car window. After a while, Jinziwan Tea Farm arrived. Four school buses stopped one after another on the small cement field in front of the tea processing factory. The driver opened the door and the students filed out. After a while, he reversed the front of the car and went down the mountain to pick up the second group of students. The tea master called the students to gather together and taught them how to pick tea. To pick tea, use the index finger and thumb to hold the middle of the young stem under the center of each leaf, and use the elasticity of the two fingers to lift the tea leaves into pieces. The tea picked here is before Qingming, also called Mingqian tea. The parts picked must be one leaf and one heart. Special attention is paid to the quality of the tea. You can pick with one hand, or you can practice picking with both hands. Picking with both hands is efficient, but the tea trees here The cultivation time is short, the tree crown is not yet ideal, the picking surface is uneven, and the germination is uneven, so it seems better for people to pick with one hand. The students listened very little to what Master said, but mostly looked around the factory.

The steel-structured factory building is built on a small mountain pass, covering an area of ??no more than 100 square meters. Inside, there are various tea processing machines, green tea fixing machines, and tea frying machines neatly arranged. , tea twisting machines, some of which I can’t even name, and I didn’t ask the tea farm master carefully. These machines are all produced in Zhejiang. Two bungalows were built on the back of the processing plant, which are used as both offices and residences. Although they are made of small cement bricks and well decorated, they are small and delicate in the mountains. The few houses scattered across the foot of the mountain in front are the hometown of the tea farm owner - Longpai River. Because there is a deputy county magistrate in that village, last year, on the basis of village-to-village connectivity, several neighboring villages were connected. , the highway not only connects the highway from Yuanling to Fengtan, which leads directly to Yuanling County, but also connects the highway from Yuanling to Zhangjiajie, which leads directly to Zhangjiajie. The sunny hillside on the left is the tea farm where we pick tea. Opposite the tea farm, the shady hillside next to the tea farm has been newly cultivated this year. Half of it was burned, and cherry trees were planted, which looked very inconspicuous; the other half was not burned, but all the trees and vines were cut down with a knife, and a withered blade of grass was lying on the hillside, which was to be planted with kiwi fruit. . There are three two-story wooden buildings at the foot of the tea farm. One is a living room for the tea farm and two are for local farmers. The factory is surrounded by rolling hills. Standing at the highest point of the factory building and looking out, in addition to the green hills and jungles, there are ravines and dots of villages hidden in the green hills, ravines and jungles.

While I was lingering in the factory building and enjoying the scenery of the tea farm and mountains, students carrying plastic baskets spread out to pick tea in the ridges of tea farms. The rising sunshine in spring slants and warmly shines on the mountains, on the teahouse, and on me in silence. The distant ravine is covered with a layer of blue mist, quiet and mysterious, and it has been noisy for a while. The teahouse also fell silent. I don't know how long I am being pulled by the rising sun. I just face the rising sun, step on the sunshine, and walk into the tea forest. It’s still the terraced soil from last year, the tea forest from last year, and the sweet-scented osmanthus tree from last year. The sweet-scented osmanthus tree has grown a little longer, greedily sucking the rain and dew under the sun, and stretching its branches and leaves until they grow old. The tea trees on the terraced soil are neatly trimmed, with the same height and height, reaching up to the waist of the tea-picking students. They are clustered in clusters, but the thickness is different, so they are not neat and spectacular. Because of last year's drought and lack of rain, many tea trees died of drought. There was freshly plowed soil on the terraces, and some tea tree seedlings were replanted. Wild shallots grow particularly strong and energetic on the newly cultivated terrace soil.

I joined the students who were picking tea, but I was not used to holding the buds between my index fingers and thumbs. I just used the method I had learned as a child, pinching the tea leaves with the nails of my right thumb and index finger. The young shoots are pinched carefully, one leaf at a time, with eyes, hands and experience. It is laborious and slow. Old habits die hard. I pinched the buds with one leaf and center, and looked at the tender tea leaves with one or two leaves under the buds. I felt really sorry and always wanted to pinch them longer. The rising sun is spreading flatly on the flat tea trees, and the goose-yellow buds are stretching upwards hard, crystal clear. At this time, I didn’t understand the quality of tea, and was extremely reluctant. I had to bear the pain and pinch the leaves carefully. After a while, the whistle sounded on the other side of the highway, and the second batch of tea-picking students also arrived. The teahouse was noisy for a while and then calmed down again. When the tea leaves in the palm of my hand were full, I threw them into the basket of the nearest classmate. As I pinched and pinched, I found that the broken part of the tea stem lying on the tender bud in my hand soon turned black, and the tea tree also turned black. I became confused and tried to use the method taught by the tea picking master. The tea stems did not change color. This may be part of the quality of tea. Later, I asked the tea-picking master with doubts, and the answer was yes. The master also said that the method of picking tea is correct. After picking tea, the tea tree will easily sprout new buds. There is knowledge about growing flowers, there is knowledge about reading, and there is also the secret to picking tea. - Thirty-six lines, every line is the best, every line is true.

Tea picking is a quiet and lonely job, and it can last for adults. A group of more than eighty boys and girls gathered in the sweet-scented osmanthus tree garden and tea forest in the spring. One or two pairs of thrushes popped out from time to time, and among the milky white flowers of the rose trees, there were also chirping sparrows. As they stood, the moist spring breeze gently blew the tips of their hair and corners of their eyebrows. How long could they quietly pick tea? Before the tea leaves were evenly spread on the plastic basket, many tea-picking students started to commotion: some male students began to "grab" the tea leaves from the female students, taking advantage of their inattention, and some even used tricks to distract their attention. They took the opportunity to quickly grab the tea leaves from the basket, and then chased and ran with a pink fist and laughing; some jumped back and forth among the tea bushes, but wild shallots and some unknown grasses suffered; some I saw the goat, ran out of the tea farm, and let the goat enjoy the tender tea of ??Yiye Yixin... Of course, more students were calmly picking the buds of Yiye Yixin tea, puff, puff, puff, the tea leaves The crisp sound of the young stems breaking is like several pieces of music with a tight rhythm, echoing gently in the tea garden. The sun shines on their faces, making them very peaceful.

The noise returned to calm. Some students' baskets were full, and they walked towards the factory one after another to hand over tea leaves. The light yellow buds, fluffy and shiny in the sun, were very attractive.

I couldn’t stand being lonely anymore, so I sat down on a stone under an osmanthus tree, opened the "Selected Prose of Shimazaki Fujimura" I brought from the library in the morning, and started reading. I bid farewell to the spring day at Jinziwan Tea House, bid farewell to the sweet-scented osmanthus trees sucking the spring light, and left the excitement of students picking tea, and walked into the Chikuma River in an island country thousands of miles away.

I don’t know when, my thirsty throat extradited me back from Japan’s Chikuma River style. I stood up and put the book under my arm under my clothes. The sun was getting a little hot. I wriggled my dry lips and looked at the red, green and pink students picking tea in the tea field. Then I jumped off the ladder and walked towards the halfway point. Go to the wooden house on the mountainside to find water to quench your thirst.

Near noon, the owner of the tea farm, Chen Jun, a capable cadre-looking man, drove back in a pickup truck. Before they even sat down, they scolded the students for being careless in picking tea. They picked less tea and damaged the tea trees more. They were extremely dissatisfied and asked the school to educate students well. I think this is more than just Aiwujiwu.

After lunch, the afternoon sun became even hotter. At this time, I realized that late spring was here. Although the afternoon is the best time of the day to pick tea, the students began to feel depressed and spent more time hiding from the sun under the sweet-scented osmanthus tree. After a while, the newly opened barren hill opposite was on fire. The wind responded to the fire and fueled the fire. The erratic tongues of fire rushed upwards, devouring the dry firewood, making a crackling sound, which was really scary. But those experienced farmers had prepared fire ditches long ago. The fire burned through the wasteland and was quickly extinguished. The mountain fire did not ignite and we were just in for a false alarm. In the afternoon, the students picked less than half of the tea in the morning.

At four o'clock, before the sun has stopped its favor on the mountainous countryside, the students took the school bus back to school.

As for how to complete the tea-making machinery in the factory, how to fry tea, how to twist tea, and how to bake tea, it is not known. Because the tea farm does not produce a lot of tea, the machinery often processes tea leaves at night, and it was the same last year.