Lyric prose of those trees in my hometown yard

Liu Liangcheng said that trees will remember many things. Yes, when I look back, in the depths of light and shadow, my eyes meet the trees in my hometown yard. A tree, written with emotion. I thank my father for planting these trees in the yard. No matter how long time has passed, I can find those ancient memories in these trees.

1, peach tree

I remember my mother saying that my father planted this peach tree when I still don't remember. It is located in the middle of the yard and has a beautiful tree shape. I imagine my young and enthusiastic father planting a peach tree in the yard so that his family can eat delicious peaches. But I have a vague impression of eating peaches. Only that peach tree is still alive.

In our countryside, when it comes to warm spring, people like to be labeled as "weather in February and March". This is the fine weather that people yearn for. This is a crisp, itchy and soft weather. Spring is back, everything is revived, green grass is blooming, trees are sprouting and flowers are in full bloom. In such a charming scene, the peach blossoms on the trees in my yard are bright and dense. Under the blue sky, the sun is shining, and from a distance, countless peach blossoms are blooming on the branches, smudging a pink world. This peach blossom, like a shy smiling face of a girl, is as beautiful as the bride's face, so beautiful and so brilliant. I was a little slow for a while. I don't know if this is a beautiful scenery on earth or a fairyland in the sky that has strayed into the farmhouse. Perhaps, it is the humble house and mud, the loving family, and the peach blossoms set off are particularly fresh and colorful. It is this freshness that attracts bees and butterflies to fly to the yard and flowers. At that time, I saw bees and butterflies flying, bees and flowers playing, Hua Die set each other off, the fragrance was fragrant and the spring was infinite. Standing in front of the flowers, I only feel that the soft waves of peach blossoms invade my heart bit by bit, making me clean and bright, making me dreamy. I really want to be a butterfly, flying among the flowers and kissing them. Suddenly I feel a little scared, I don't know how to love this peach blossom, and I don't know how to care for it. I want to protect the patient's peach blossom from blinking, for fear that this beautiful scenery will disappear from my eyes as soon as I turn around. This peach tree, have you ever seen a girl's fluctuating heart?

On the day when the peach blossoms were in full bloom, I didn't intend to do anything, or I had nothing to do at all. I rely almost entirely on peach blossoms and spring scenery. At a young age, I haven't read any books in this farm yard, and I don't know anything about peach blossoms, let alone Tang poetry and Song poetry. But my father brought Peach Blossom Book into my life. It shocked my perspective, shocked my soul and instilled a sense of beauty with vivid and beautiful pictures. In the warm breeze and intoxicating peach blossoms, my mother can compete with flowers and flowers. In my mind, her striking hairstyle, fitted coat and just right figure are so young, beautiful and full of energy. She went in and out of the yard, busy, doing what she should do. Knowing that such fine weather is suitable for drying, she also knows that she should not live up to such fine weather, so she goes into the north room for a while and goes out of the south room for a while, and puts such and such things in the sun to let them breathe the warm sunshine. Of course she didn't forget those quilts. How could she miss such fine weather? She began to take the quilt out of the kang bed bed by bed and hang it on a wire rope in the yard. Mother is clean, and always keeps the kang clean. Even cotton sheets and foreign sheets are often tidied up neatly, and quilts are folded square. During my stay in bask in the quilt, I sometimes give my mother a hand to help her hug the quilt, but I am not tall enough to reach the wire rope, so I have to give it to my mother, who will spread a wide quilt on the rope. I saw her gently sweeping the sides of the quilt with a small broom. Halfway through the sun, I saw my mother patting the quilt with her hand in order to fully absorb the sun. When the light of the sun weakens, mother will worry about putting these quilts away and putting them back on the kang. Sleeping in the sun-dried quilt at night only makes me feel fluffy, soft, cotton-scented, comfortable and warm. Perhaps bask in the quilt is a trivial matter, and it is also insignificant in the mother's heavy housework. But in my mind, my mother's hard-working figure is closely linked with spring peach blossoms. All belong to the peach blossom rings, which make me permanently attached and unforgettable.

In the peach blossom season, the expression and behavior of the whole family were influenced by the color and joy of a wisp of flowers, which wrote a romantic and warm stroke to my young heart. I imagine when my father planted it. Perhaps, our family just moved to this spacious and bright new yard, only built a house, and there is still a lot of space. The young father bought a peach tree from other places, walked into the house happily, stood in the middle of the yard and looked around. Well, I think the position under my feet is good. Let's plant it here. So there is a peach tree in the yard. Over the years, it gradually grew into a beautiful tree. Spring is a thriving scene, which is what my father expected and what he was overjoyed. After all, there is this beautiful and amazing peach blossom in the farmhouse. However, with the growth of family population and the expansion of family houses, this peach tree has been somewhat in the way in the yard. So, one day, my father planted it and dug it himself. From then on, the yard was empty and there was no shadow of peach trees. The courtyard is unobstructed, and the windows are bright and clean, but who knows if there is a trace of sour taste in my father's heart and a trace of loss in my mother's heart.

It is not unusual to plant a peach tree and dig a peach tree on the farm. But this peach tree didn't go far. In the charming scene of "February and March weather" in my hometown yard every year, it still stands there beautifully, standing in the depths of the shade, with a faint scent.

2, pomegranate tree

There is a pomegranate tree under the window of the old East Room. It is tough, vigorous and simple, with lush foliage and dense flowers in spring and summer, and its body leans to the south of the yard. I used to call it the pomegranate tree with crooked neck, and my family loved it.

This pomegranate tree wins with flowers and is charming with flowers. Spring is coming, tender red leaves grow on the branches, and they look at the world timidly and pleasantly. As time goes on, these leaves grow up and become more and more. And gradually change color * Ze, become a stout green tree. The most beautiful season is early summer. Look-bright red pomegranate flowers are gradually blooming among the dense green leaves. As the days go by, more and more flowers bloom, which are more and more vigorous and warm. This fiery pomegranate flower is shining, jumping, burning and bright among the dense green leaves. This beautiful flower, with a fiery momentum, calls and attracts the hearts of family members. They can't stay in the house any longer, and they go out to see flowers, enjoy flowers and talk about flowers.

Grandma has a backache, sitting in a wooden chair at a distance, squinting at the flowers. My father stood in front of the tree in a washed white shirt with his hands at his waist. His dark face was healthy and ruddy, and he grinned. Mother's hair is black and shiny, wearing a blue coat that fits her, looking up and smiling at the flowers. I stand among my parents. I like to see their smiles, their expressions, and their optimistic, enthusiastic personality and spirit from heavy work. I especially like my mother's appearance. Her nature is lively and cheerful, and her manners are natural and graceful. Standing in front of flowers, she can no longer conceal the gentleness of women, no, it is the nature of women's love for beauty. This flower opened her heart, and she seemed to be talking to her father and herself. No, it was a beautiful sigh that flowed through her heart: "Look, how beautiful the red flowers and green leaves are and how handsome the colors are *". In an instant, the words "red flowers and green leaves" whispered in my mother's mouth. Influenced by this summer breath, they landed wonderfully in my heart and took root in the United States. My mother is different from her peers. She is literate, ingenious, loves arranging flowers and knows the beauty of color matching. So her tone of voice and emotions naturally entered my heart and left a deep impression on me. With a slight tilt, my mother went on to say, "If only there were a camera to take pictures of all this." I can see that my mother is very attached to these flowers and this beautiful spring. Mom's words fell into dad's heart, and I saw him nod his head, revealing a trace of regret. I looked at my parents, glad for their joy, and sorry for their regret. I don't know how to comfort their loss. I just hope that this fiery pomegranate flower in front of me will always be fiery red.

The only fly in the ointment of this pomegranate tree is that there are few pomegranates. The sharp contrast between fruits and flowers has disappointed some family members who have left a fiery mood and are looking forward to a bumper harvest at flowering stage. Nevertheless, family is as rare as a father taking care of a few fruits. In order to protect pomegranate from insects, my father carefully stuffed a small cotton ball stained with potion into pomegranate's mouth. Now I am not afraid of insect bites, but I can still grow comfortably, and my family can rest assured. In autumn, these pomegranates become big and red after the autumn wind blows, and some of them are cracked and ripe. Father saw all this in his eyes. He ignored the stool and carefully picked all the pomegranates from the tree. I helped my father under the tree, put these pomegranates in the basket, and then my mother stored them. These precious pomegranates should be eaten at ordinary times, and the family can enjoy their delicacies only after Grandma Yue Bai is in the yard on the night of Mid-Autumn Festival. This is an authentic sour pomegranate. When living at home, whoever has a headache and brain fever will take it out, saying that it can stimulate appetite, help digestion and relieve the disease. His father's words fell into the hearts of his family like a panacea, giving us warmth. At that time, how rare fruit was for family members.

Strangely, this pomegranate tree is full of flowers every year, but there are few pomegranates, which has almost become a mystery that family members can't solve. Everyone has the psychology of seeking profit. What's more, the father of the head of the family tried to dig up this pomegranate tree several times. However, in a blink of an eye, in summer, he couldn't bear to see the beautiful scenery of fiery pomegranate flowers. So, year after year, the pomegranate tree and its family were safe and sound. Over time, the whole family gradually got used to its temperament and stopped pursuing its mystery. As long as it can produce beautiful pomegranate flowers every year, that would be great. At that time, there was a lack of culture and entertainment in the countryside, physical labor was quite heavy, spring planting and autumn harvest, harrowing and grinding, and the days were monotonous and ordinary. This pomegranate tree is particularly beautiful in a simple yard and a simple family day, as if it is the expectation of life, the hope of survival, and a kind of happiness that life gives to family.

Over time, the old house at home was demolished and a new house was built. This pomegranate tree, along with other trees, has disappeared, and there is nowhere to find its quaint figure and fiery flowers in the yard. Every time I think about it, I will think of my family, my late grandparents, my optimistic parents, and that simple and beautiful youth.

3, apricot tree

Once upon a time, there was a "sheep excrement egg" apricot tree in the yard of my hometown. That apricot is ugly and small, blue in color and sour in mouth.

Because there are small apricots on the tree, I often run under the tree, tilt my head back and carefully distinguish apricots that are similar in color to green leaves. Watching them grow up day by day, I am very happy and look forward to eating sour apricots early.

By the time of wheat harvest, this apricot is almost ripe. This suddenly added a lot of excitement to the family. My brother and I are two little bugs. Whenever we have a bad mouth, we run under the apricot tree. My brother was too small to reach, so he climbed up the tree and sat on the branch, tasting delicious food and throwing me some apricots. I choose sour, undercooked and crunchy Xinger to eat. Sometimes our brother and sister are very naughty and play with each other with apricots. Mother always smiles cheerfully and says that only we are the most naughty. I can't tell why I was so fond of sour taste when I was a child, and I never got tired of eating sour apricots. When mom and dad came back from work, they saw our two naughty boys, smiling happily and forgetting the hard work in the field. My brother runs under the tree after school. My brother has been like a man since he was a child. He took a long pole and pounced on the tree. Or climb a tree, stand among solid branches, and shake with open arms a few times, and mature Xinger will fall like rain. This beautiful scene often infects everyone in the family. Grandpa, grandma, dad, mom, and our brother and sister are standing in the distance, feeling this wonderful moment, for my brother's kindness and strength, and for Xinger, who is full of excitement and joy.

One day, I remember that my father had just returned from the fields and was resting in the yard. The younger brother who just left school picked a bowl of apricots and wanted his father to eat an apricot to quench his thirst, but his father smiled and said, "Take it and let grandma eat first." My brother listened to his father's words and quickly took the bowl of apricots to the south house where grandma lived. Grandma, who has been unable to walk with backache all her life, was sitting on the kang when she saw her brother send apricots. She was very happy and said that my brother was really a sensible child. Grandma picked a soft apricot and ate it slowly. My brother took the rest to her father. While eating apricots, my father called our brothers and sisters to our side and solemnly said to us, "You should form a good habit of respecting the old and loving the young from an early age. In the future, no matter what is delicious at home, you must honor your grandparents first. " Then my father told us the story of Kong Rong letting pears. On the road of our brother and sister's growth, my father is always good at starting from small things and guiding our hearts. A bowl of ordinary apricots, let our brother and sister know the traditional virtue of respecting the old and loving the young, affectionate and righteous. Today, although grandparents have passed away for many years, every time we go home, we always put gifts in front of their portraits and bow deeply to show our memory.

A good time to eat sour apricots. I was so naive that I said to my grandmother, "Grandma, have a sour apricot too!" " "Grandma gave a face of envy. She smiled and said, "Hanwa, grandma is old and can't bite." Her teeth are very painful. "Light-yin-fly, many years have passed, grandma has long since left us, and I am no longer the same person. I have a son, and I have a son who likes sour apricots as much as I do. Every time I watch my son eat sour apricots, I think of the "sheep excrement egg" apricot tree in my hometown.

An ugly apricot tree, a period of gluttony for sour apricots, a happy family, I miss you.

4. Litchi tree

When I was very young, there was a plant in the yard with sharp leaves and thin vines. It looked like a vine, but it was not a vine. My grandmother called it litchi tree.

Litchi's weak body and bones can't stand the wind and rain, and its growth needs the support of vines. This pretentious job belongs to my dad. He does a good job in farming. So, on a sunny spring afternoon, the young father was wearing a white shirt and gray trousers, and his tall body was tall and straight. He stood in front of the litchi tree, his hands habitually inserted at his waist, and watched the litchi tree grow happily, thinking that it was time to build a shelf for the litchi tree. There are many wooden blocks of different lengths in the west wall of the house. Just pick a few. It's not difficult for my dad. However, when my father was thinking, I didn't know where I had gone. Maybe I went to school, maybe I ran out of the house to play. In a word, I missed the moment when my father put on airs. When I got home, a shelf had been set up in front of the Litchi tree, and the wooden shelves crisscrossed were neat, strong and beautiful. I looked at the shelf with joy. No, I admire my father's work, not like it. My little heart trusts my father and his work so much. This work has brought his style of being a soldier in the army in the past. It is simple, powerful and elegant. I stood in front of the bookshelf, imagining my father's works and his satisfied expression, and my heart was happy. In front of my eyes, it seems that litchi trees are also smiling.

Since the shelf, litchi trees seem to grow faster, with more leaves and flexible vines stretching along the poles and crawling happily. The spring breeze is blowing and the spring is shining, which makes the litchi trees in autumn particularly fresh, tender and full of vitality. In summer, it is already a shelf full of green. I stood in front of the bookshelf with curiosity. I can't help caressing every little leaf with my eyes. I couldn't help touching the slender tendril with my hand. It was as tough as the curly hair on a girl's head. This slender vine is in my palm. When I touch it, it stretches, and when I let it go, it naturally curls. This magical plant gives me novelty and happiness. I like to be opposite to a plant, and find the innocence, romance and satisfaction of children in this relative. At such a moment, I saw another self, quiet and happy.

Litchi trees grow up day by day and unconsciously hang their fruits among the leaves. This kind of fruit looks like a strawberry with small protrusions on the skin. At the end of summer, the color of the fruit changed from green to orange, hanging among the green leaves like a small lantern. It was really lovely. But no one can say when litchi will mature and when it should be picked. Busy at home, mom and dad are busy in the field, and younger brothers and sisters have to go to school. Only grandma is free. She has an old problem of backache, and it is difficult to walk, let alone work. On weekdays, she has almost nothing to do except tidy up the house where she lives. Picking litchi is a light job, of course, it is given to grandma. Grandma has dark skin and doesn't talk much. When she saw me, she showed a happy expression. I like grandma, and grandma likes me. It can be seen that grandma likes litchi trees as much as I do, and she is quietly paying attention to the growth of litchi trees. One day, I came home from school and just stepped into the yard. Grandma, who was sitting in the yard enjoying the cool, stopped me at a distance and said happily to me as if she had waited for a long time: "Son, the litchi is ripe and put it on the windowsill of the East Room. Try it quickly, it's very sweet. " I hurried to the windowsill, where there was a bright orange litchi. I peeled off its skin along the cracked seam, and there was bright red pulp inside. When I inhale through my mouth, I feel a strange sweetness. The fruit itself is not big, but a few hard white particles are actually wrapped in the thin pulp. I feel that this litchi is not for eating, but for viewing or tasting in advance. Perhaps, the strange sweetness makes the family unaccustomed, or perhaps the family thinks its appearance is far more beautiful than the charm of pulp. As a result, these precious lychees were picked by grandma one by one, put on the windowsill, or hung by the window, like a beautiful ornament, hanging in the eyes of family members. Everyone should praise it when they see it: "It's really beautiful", and I really like it. This little litchi brings a little light and artistic conception to the simple window sill and the simple courtyard.

Litchi tree has its own space, the earth is its solid bed, insects are its neighbors, it breathes sunlight, air and rain, and grows and changes in ways we don't know. It is either happy, sad or thinking in time, or silently witnessing the life of our family in the morning and evening, hearing our laughter, sadness or disputes, and gaining insight into the secrets of our IT operation in the family. One day, I will stand under the litchi frame and feel mysterious and awe at the silent litchi tree. I think it is spiritual and can perceive my heart. It contains my heart with its broad silence. And among all my family members, I feel that my grandmother, like me, is in awe of the small space formed by this litchi tree.

On Lunar New Year's Eve in China, grandma also came to the yard to enjoy the cool. She sat in a chair on the back of Xiao Mu's chair, fluttering a cattail leaf fan leisurely, and her kind face smiled slightly. I snuggled up to my grandmother and looked at the stars and the vast galaxy. The sky is so dark, so bright and so high that it looks down on our small yard mysteriously and attracts people in the small yard infinitely. I feel that grandma likes this mysterious night sky as much as I do. She whispered a story in my ear slowly about the Cowherd and the Weaver Girl. She said that at this time, all the magpies were in the sky, and they went to Tianhe to meet two people and build a magpie bridge. She also said that in the deeper silence, hide under the shelf of litchi trees and listen carefully, and you will hear the whispers of cowherd and weaver girl. My little heart seems to understand the story, but grandma's words give me a sense of mystery. I believed it, and secretly went to the litchi tree Jiaozi to listen. The night is very quiet. I seem to hear the slight breathing of the small leaves of the litchi tree, perhaps the breathing of the soil, and the calling of the soil and the litchi tree, but I have never heard the whisper of heaven meeting. But the mystery of this small space gives me fantasy and makes me believe that heaven and earth know. I believe that the gods in the sky are talking sweet words there. Just this love story. We should not steal it. I thank my grandmother for giving me this beautiful fairy tale and the mystery and fantasy between heaven and earth.

Now that I think about it, litchi trees are mostly produced in the south. I'm from the north, but I have a litchi tree at home. Compared with the fruits in the south, the fruits in my family are very different, and I have no way to verify the authenticity of my litchi tree. Then I will call it the northern litchi tree in private.

5. Tung tree

In our countryside, paulownia is a common tree, which is planted in front of almost every household. My family naturally has a fate with it, and the yard in front of the door is full of tall and strong figures.

This tung tree, year after year, is gradually infected with the color of the family and becomes a part of the family in the care of family eyes and the expectation of the soul. When my parents came back from other places, my brother and sister came back from school with schoolbags on their backs, and walked into the alley, where they saw the tall tung tree in front of the door from a distance. We felt a kind of warmth in our hearts, as if we saw the welcome of our family, and we couldn't help speeding up our steps and coming to the door in three steps. When my eyes meet the tung tree, I always feel that it is like a kind person, welcoming us into the house with joy, and then standing silently in the wind, guarding the house and guarding this home.

On weekdays, the family also waters love for the tung tree. Hard-working father likes to tidy up the roots with a shovel when he is free, so that the rain can flow to the roots smoothly. The kind mother not only noticed that there was no dirty water splashed on the tree, but also told our brother and sister not to scald the tree with hot water. Sometimes, my parents will stand under the tung tree and look at the tree in front of them affectionately. As they watched it, they couldn't help admiring: "Oh, look how fast this tung tree is growing. It has grown so tall in a few years. " I think, these tung trees are almost like their children, seeing in their eyes and enjoying in their hearts. In winter, there are snowflakes in the sky and snow on the ground. Dad will lead his younger brothers and sisters to shovel snow in the yard. He taught us from an early age to form a good habit of loving labor. We followed our father to pour snow around the roots of tung trees, and the roots of tung trees suddenly became white and fat. Father said that this snow is a good nutrient for trees and cannot be wasted. After listening to my father's words, we worked harder and harder, and soon the snow in the yard was cleaned up, and the surrounding tung trees were beautifully arranged.

Since there was a paulownia tree in the yard, it has brought nature into the house. In spring, it blooms with purple and white bouquets, holding them high one after another, as if holding up one hope after another. At this time, the smell of tung flowers was floating in the yard, and my mother passed by the yard. The faint scent of flowers affected her. She unconsciously looked at the flowers with her eyes and murmured, "How beautiful this tung flower is." Even my father's dark face showed a warm smile. This tung flower gives my parents a lovely and handsome atmosphere in the heavy and boring farm work, which makes me want to stay. When tung blossoms fall, green leaves grow one by one, and summer is a lush green tree. In the evening, my family enjoys the cool in the yard. When the wind blows, the tung tree will make waves of "sand, sand" sounds. Is the gentle voice the whispering of tung leaves or the laughter of tung leaves? I like listening to the sounds between heaven and earth, arousing subtle emotions in my heart and giving me a mysterious peace. But it gave me a mysterious and peaceful tung leaf, which could not compete with the raging autumn wind, slowly withered and withered, and finally went up in smoke. In winter, these bare branches stretch into the air, and in the snow all over the sky, they will become another kind of human beauty in the form of symmetrical trees and flowers.

At that time, the summer afternoon was sultry and long, which gave people enough sleep and enough space and stage for cicadas on tung trees. There are two tung trees in front of the window in the north yard. Dense foliage is the most beautiful habitat for cicadas. They are far-sighted and condescending, occupying a hidden and favorable terrain position, ignoring my deep sleep on the kang and singing heartily. It doesn't seem hot enough this summer. They cheer with their voices. This cicada song is very penetrating, long and loud in the summer sky, one after another, endless, which contributes to the summer breath and my laziness. This cicada makes a charming sound in summer. I let it sleep and was awakened by it. This cicada song is the most concentrated, dense and powerful sound I have ever experienced. Since then, cicadas everywhere have been dwarfed.

Tung tree has narrowed the distance between man and nature and opened my inner world. On that moonlit night, I stood in front of two old wooden windows in the East Room and looked up through the screens. On the top of the tall tung tree, a disc-like moon was coated with a layer of Hui Jin, like a shy girl and a cold-faced beauty, quietly peeping at the world and people in this small courtyard. When I look at it, it is also far away from me. At this moment, there is an unspeakable beauty flowing in my heart. Is the tung tree setting off the moon or the moon rendering the tung tree? Or is this a natural and ingenious combination? In my eyes, this moon is the embodiment of beauty, with a shy face. Then what will I look like in its eyes? I don't know. At this moment, the yard is smeared with tranquility and serenity, smeared with an unspeakable mysterious atmosphere. My heart swells with longing, like flying, like singing, like praising, and I can't say anything vaguely. In this way, I stood quietly at the window and enjoyed this mysterious night composed of heaven and earth for a long time.

In my eyes, the paulownia tree has become a part of the family. It is deeply rooted in the soil of the hospital, and it grows so sturdily in the daily care and expectation of family members. His family liked his bouquet and looked happy. His family likes his green leaves and becomes cool. But in the eyes of family members, it will eventually become good wood and be put into use. The old house was demolished to build a new house, and these tung trees were planed and broken into boards. Father and brother stood in front of this pile of thick wooden blocks, smiling contentedly, and said to themselves, "Look, what a good paulownia." Now, these tung trees in the front yard have become useful wood, made furniture and built beautiful big houses. None of these tung trees are left. They once accepted the love of their families. Now, they return the love of their families in another way.