See also cooking smoke-Author: Hao Min

See the smoke coming from the kitchen.-Hao Min.

Early in the morning, walking on the tree-lined path in the country, I suddenly saw several wisps of kitchen smoke curling up in the forest, and the air was mixed with the aroma from burning straw. I haven't seen the graceful kitchen smoke for a long time. When I saw it today, I met an old friend in a foreign country, and my thoughts drifted back to my hometown, my childhood and my family with the smoke.

In spring, the breeze is blowing gently and the scenery is intoxicating. The smoke from cooking in the morning rises from the roof of the farmhouse, swaying gracefully, lightly and romantically, just like the ribbon of a fairy on earth, like a sail floating across endless water, a little smart color on a simple background, a little life and a little mood in the beautiful scenery of mountains and rivers.

In the afternoon, after finishing my homework, my friends and I took our kites to the threshing floor to fly kites. Kites of various colors carry children's good wishes and soar in the sky. They fly higher and higher. Looking at the gradually blurred shadow, I seem to have become a kite, spreading my wings and flying far away ... Not to be outdone, I want to compete with kites for nine days. The blue sky, scattered farmhouses and occasional birds are the most beautiful scenery in my plain years.

Sweet-scented osmanthus in late autumn, the forest is dyed. In the farmhouse, there is a scene of bumper harvest. The setting sun touches the mountain, the smoke from kitchen chimneys is curling up, and the silk yarn overflows the mountainside. A few red leaves withered with the wind will dance with the rising smoke. The shepherd boy will yell at the livestock and walk on his way home. Melodious flute will float in the wind, and will lead a young puppy to run with the sound, wagging its furry tail, raising its black eyes and barking from time to time. ...

In the severe winter, the north wind roared and the earth was frozen. Thick fog enveloped the mountains, the grass rustled and the mountain village was silent. At dusk, the smoke rises in the thin snow in Qian Shan, and the family gathers around the fire. My father hunched over and peeled corn with calloused hands. When the weather is fine, he will take the corn to the market 50 miles away and sell it for us. Mother made shoes with thin stitches under the lamp. By the light, I can clearly see several wrinkles on her forehead. In order to provide for our sisters to go to school, my parents' temples were covered with white hair prematurely. I looked down and my eyes were wet. ...

The sun and the moon flow and the times change. With the accelerated pace of life, modern electrical appliances have gradually replaced the ancient way of life. The smoke from home, the scenery of childhood, and the lost relatives, like passers-by, are drifting away, only with a hint of homesickness, gathering in the hazy dream of every breakfast and dinner. ...

Cooking smoke in my hometown, I love you, love your tenderness, love your mellow nature, I want to hide this love for you in my heart, taste you with my long life and take care of you for a long time; Hometown, I love you. I would like to build a boat full of thoughts at your heart ferry with deep affection, waiting for you and sailing for you. Let's meet together and walk through Qian Shan!

About the author: Hao Min, a cadre of public service station in Maping Town, Luonan County, likes reading and writing, and is willing to make more literary friends.