Essay about a bridge in a foreign country

I have passed many bridges in my wandering life, most of which have been forgotten. Only this bridge, after so many years, and during the relocation of my parents, I met by chance. Is it a fate or a frequent separation and separation? It is strange and familiar, and there is a kind of long-lost kindness in my heart. It is the Jieshou Bridge connecting Jinan and Tai'an.

My hometown in the countryside is adjacent to Jinan. Jieshou Bridge is named after Jieshou Village, Wande Town, Changqing District. My hometown is seven or eight miles away from Jieshou Bridge.

This is an ordinary single-hole stone arch bridge, located in the center of the village, running north-south and spanning the east-west river more than 20 meters wide. The bridge body is entirely made of stone. There are stone railings about one meter high on both sides of the bridge. The bridge deck is not very wide and can accommodate two cars passing each other. There is no research on the year when this bridge was built. It is estimated that it has been nearly fifty years since I became associated with this bridge.

Although they do not belong to the same prefecture and city, the two villages are not far from each other, with a village in between. Jieshou Village holds a market every five days. My family often goes to the market. Jieshou Bridge has a market. The city is divided into north and south parts.

The villages around my hometown were all demolished due to urban planning. Most of the villagers moved to Jieshou Village. My parents also came here to make a temporary home. It was this time that they settled down and revisited Jieshou Bridge. By chance, the southern neighbor of the bungalow my parents rented was this unforgettable bridge.

The word “away from home” now has limitations. Well, where is it? Li Bai once wrote about the pain of lovesickness, "The weeping waves in autumn cry at the golden well, and the frost is desolate and the mat is cold." The well is a physical object that can be sung to and expressed one's feelings to. Nowadays, the well is hidden in the small yard of the farmhouse, and it seems that it is not seen much anymore. The tap water upstairs no longer has the function of a "well". Think about it, only the bridge still exists, so the bridge has become a carrier of nostalgia. Whether it is a bridge in your hometown or a bridge in a foreign country, as long as you have an intersection with a bridge, you will have a "bridge love" of "a short canopy is tied in the shade of an ancient tree, and a stick and quinoa help me cross the east side of the bridge".

Although the bridge I first saw fifty years ago is the same as it is now, the surrounding environment has changed a lot. The bridge at that time looked very majestic and tall. There was a big locust tree in the south of the bridge. It was dry under the bridge. There were only some scattered small willow trees on both sides of the bank. To the north and south of the bridge were sparse private houses, mostly thatched houses. , usually rarely see pedestrians on the street, it looks very desolate.

When it comes to being unforgettable, it’s still the trivial things from the past. I remember that when I was a child, I often went to the first episode of the world with my father. At that time, there were more people hanging out to join in the fun, but less people buying things, and the market was much bigger than it is now. The current market is only on a street in the north of Qiao. In the past, there were crowds all over the south and north of Qiao. In those days of material poverty, you could only buy the necessities for daily life. The more lively places were The livestock market under the bridge is bustling with people and animals from east to west, and there are people howling and animals shouting as far as the eye can see.

I remember that spring when the willows were blooming green. When I was five or six years old, I followed my father to buy piglets and raise them at home. My father held my hand and walked through the crowds in the south of the bridge, walked across the bridge, and went directly to the pig market under the bridge. Being curious and naughty, I walked forward with my father holding one hand, and my head swayed back and forth like a rattle. , looking at the strange things in this market, I always feel that my eyes are not strong enough, my whole body is focused, and my energy does not seem to be focused on keeping in tune with my father.

Perhaps my father was concentrating on picking piglets and inadvertently let go of my hand, and I was so focused on searching that I was unknowingly continued to be held by the other hand. When I came to my senses and looked up at my father, I screamed in shock. He had a face that was not my father at all. Knowing that I was following the wrong person, I suddenly pulled out the unfamiliar thick hand. He raised his legs and ran back.

In the huge market, I didn’t know where to look for my father. I just stood under the bridge and scanned the familiar father’s face one by one. Fortunately, it didn't take long for my father to find me quickly, his face seemed to be clouded with fear. Looking back now, at that time, if I had fallen into the hands of a trafficker and left my family forever, wandering around the world, maybe it would have been a different life with a different destiny. This is also a period under this bridge that I will never forget. past.

Now that I am a little older, I can help my family with some work. My eldest brother and I have raised long-haired rabbits for many years. The rabbit fur can be exchanged for money at the supply and marketing cooperative. At that time, the nearest place where money could be exchanged was , it is Jieshou Supply and Marketing Cooperative. In those years, I went to Jieshou to sell rabbit fur almost every other month. The supply and marketing cooperative was about ten meters away from the south of the bridge. Every time I came, I would see the bridge. Before leaving, the two brothers would go to the bridge to enjoy the scenery. There is not much scenery in winter, but when it snows, I stand on the bridge and look around. I see a silvery white world. The wide dry river bed is covered with thick snow. Sometimes I can see groups of children having snowball fights under the bridge. . The bow-shaped bridge is much higher than the houses. Looking around, it looks like the sky in the north of the Great Wall. The low-lying thatched houses are surrounded by layers of snow, like overwhelmed pedestrians, standing still with their luggage on their backs.

In the spring season, when you stop at the bridge, you will find a unique scenery. There is some water under the bridge, not a river. A few geese and ducks are still playing in the puddles. The trees on both sides are already thick with green. Go eastward along the river and look up along the winding river bank. , not far away is the Peach Blossom Valley at the western foot of Mount Tai. If the weather is clear, the lush Taishan Mountains are clearly visible.

The summer sun is blazing, no one is stopping on the bridge, and the heat on the bridge deck would be scalding to bare feet.

Autumn is the harvest season, and the bridge is most lively at this time. Villagers rush to dry the corn and peanuts they harvested from the fields on the bridge. At this time, the bridge is full of farmers carrying carts and carrying loads. If you are in a hurry, When going to the bridge, if no one is around, I will bend down and take the opportunity to grab a handful of groundnuts and hide them in my pocket.

In the following days and months, because I no longer raised rabbits, I rarely came to Jieshou. Since I went to catch the market with my father, I don’t remember coming to the market again. Until I went to school and started working, I basically had no connection with Jieshou. The same is true for this bridge. Although I visited it in my dream, it was still a dream after all.

Childhood memories are particularly clear because they are simple without much input. Good and bad are all components of memory. You cannot eliminate them. I hope that such memories can be in my mind. When I'm idle, I try my best to avoid or even filter out the suffering scenes from the past, leaving me with warm memories of a bridge full of fun and childlike charm.

三

It was precisely this time that my parents rented the first place in the world that I saw this long-lost bridge again.

Decades have passed, although it is only a few miles away. The bridge I saw this time was much more weathered than the one I saw before. I found that a simple reinforced concrete bridge was added to the west side of this bridge, and it became the main bridge. The arched bridge in my mind is no longer accessible to vehicles because its arcuate surface hinders the movement of vehicles. Only a small number of people strolling through it occasionally, it has lost its former prosperity and looks like a sculpture, showing the rich history of the past. The former livestock market under the bridge has been washed away by the river that flows through Taohuayu Mountain all year round.

What was once an open market in the north of Qiao is now home to many villagers, mostly two-story buildings and brick houses. The desolate and sparse appearance before has disappeared. The market in Qiaonan still exists. Today, it has developed into a modern urban market, and the bustling crowds of the past have never been seen. The only thing that can make you feel friendly is the ancient locust tree adjacent to this old bridge that has been idle, its branches that block the sky and the sun, its waist that cannot be hugged by the two floors, and several circles of steel bars inlaid on the tree body. The iron hoop, with its aged appearance evident, seems to be witnessing the history of this ancient village and the endless stream of foreigners coming from the south to the north.

Apart from the hustle and bustle of the market, the surrounding homes are usually peaceful. In their free time, the villagers sit on the bridge, gather under the ancient locust trees, enjoy the cool breeze, drink tea, and talk endlessly about the sky. South China Sea and North China. The river is gurgling under the bridge, and groups of geese and ducks are playing in the water. Willows on the river bank have grown into towering trees. The wind is blowing, and the water plants are dense. You can also see fish roaming in the clear water. It is very carefree. . When the sun sets, if you stand on the bridge and look up, the sky is filled with golden light, covering the mountain tops and the river. The ripples caused by the breeze are full of sparkling light.

This can’t help but remind me of the ancient scene of “withered vines, old trees, dim crows, small bridges and flowing water, people’s houses”. Crows returning to their nests at dusk are perched on the branches of old trees entangled with dead vines. The gurgling water under the bridge reflects the smoke of several households. But this place is not decayed and desolate like "the old road is westerly and the horse is thin. The sun sets in the west and the heartbroken people are at the end of the world". Instead, it is full of leisure, harmony and prosperity. Times have changed, society has become more and more beautiful, people live peacefully, and wanderers who go out no longer feel heartbroken about the end of the world. The ancient locust trees block the sun, the small bridges flow, the sun sets, and people are by the bridge and under the trees. Enjoy the warmth and sweetness that life brings.

I believe that where there is a bridge, there is poetry. It is often the bridge that reminds me of the poems in my memory, giving life a rich poetic flavor.

As parents and fellow villagers from outside the country, I have been here for almost a year and have completely integrated into the most remote village in this prefecture-level city. Neighbors visit each other, help each other, love each other, live in harmony, and become a family. The old mother also found the feeling of home here. Whenever she went home to see her parents, she would always see her in the Qiaotou Hutong chatting with the villagers, going to the market and shopping, and always exchanging endless greetings with acquaintances she met on the bridge. The eldest brother, who is good at fishing, lives with his parents. In summer, the eldest brother often goes to the river under the bridge to catch a lot of flower fin fish. Whenever he comes home, whenever he encounters one, he and his father always fry a plate of fish. Make some side dishes and drink two glasses of wine, it's a very happy and happy time.

People staying at home is also a way of life, and why do we need to leave gaps in the fence? People also need to get some ventilation. Walking around the neighborhood does not bring trouble, but eliminates barriers and strangers. The bridge serves as a carrier of connection, so people have fun on the bridge. Even if you are not on the bridge but under the bridge, you can still regard the bridge and the people standing on the bridge as your scenery, and the mood of life will not be so monotonous.

This bridge connects the deep friendship and the endless harmony, happiness and peace of the parents and fellow villagers. It is a bridge connecting hearts. This foreign bridge has made me unforgettable. The weight of the bridge, the ancient charm of the locust tree, the clearness of the river, and the simplicity of the villagers have made me feel deeply nostalgic for this bridge.