Prose: all the way forward

● Wang Qingying (Sichuan)

Last night's storm suddenly faded the summer heat.

Today, the weather is rare and refreshing, and the air is as fresh as washing.

In the afternoon, take 2 12 national highway from Yanting to Nanchong. My husband suggested stopping by Shuanglongqiao Village, Feng Ming Town, the first village of ecological cycle in Xichong County, and buying some organic green vegetables.

Have a good trip.

Cars galloped in the valley, and the asphalt road floated lightly into the distance like a black ribbon. Outside the window, the rolling mountains are covered with green, rolling like surging green waves; The trees on both sides of the road are shaded, covering the sky, and the lush scene recedes behind them ... Open the window, the cool wind blows gently, and the ears are whirring. Galloping in Shan Ye, my pent-up heart finally flew in this night and was released.

Have a good trip.

Rows of shabby and tidy roofs with small blue tiles and white walls and slopes, and quaint houses are printed in front of you. There are pavilions with red columns and cornices in Jiangnan style, antique hotel farmhouses and rows of white strawberry cornices on the roadside ... Following the vague memory, we came to the fork in the road next to the 2 12 national highway, and a big billboard read "Shuanglongqiao Edible Rose Planting Base". We know that we have reached our destination, laying the foundation stone and cutting the ribbon.

10 years ago, a native of Taiwan Province province came here to develop new agriculture, contracted all the land in this village, and abandoned it for three years, allowing the fertilizers and pesticides in the land to slowly decompose. After three years, grow vegetables and apply farm organic fertilizer, and vegetables can grow without pesticides. This spring, we ate the fresh seasonal vegetables picked in this base, which were really delicious. After that, I lost contact.

When I came to the ribbon-cutting base, I saw a beautiful two-story building with white walls and black tiles rising from the ground. Outside the yard, the iron gate is locked and no one is seen. At that time, it was a farmland with crops, and scattered houses with blue bricks and green tiles were built on the mountain. Nowadays, rows of houses with white walls and black tiles are built by canals along mountains and rivers, surrounded by artificially dug ditches, and weeping willows linger beside the ditches. I suspect that I have entered a beautiful Jiangnan town.

The car drove into a narrow and flat forest path from the left end of the fork in the road, and pieces of rose gardens rushed in, without the magnificent scenery like the sea as I imagined. Rose trees are low, and three or five red roses bloom alone in the gloomy evening.

Next to the rose garden is a lotus pond and lotus leaf field, like a green canopy, which is accumulating the strength of youth and showing people a prosperous future.

Have a good trip.

Is still a large rose garden, jagged trees. At this time, it is the season when the ears and seedlings of corn turn green. There are no crops, and there is no green organic vegetable garden as I imagined. The car continues to drive along the forest path, exits from the right, and then reaches the 2 12 national road at the fork in the road. At this time, I saw loquat trees on both sides of the road.

I got out of the car and stretched my limbs. Breeze slowly, in the green natural oxygen bar, I freely and greedily gulped the sweet fresh air and spit out the gloomy haze in my heart.

In the past six months, bad things have followed, pushing me to the bottom of my life. Walking on thin ice, I danced alone on a wire that was about to collapse.

Being in this endless green ocean, I vomited all the gloom in my heart, swept away the exhaustion of body and mind for months, and relaxed my heart for no reason. I love this place! This should be Tao Yuanming's Xanadu! Farmers no longer grow crops and do not suffer hardships. They enjoy flowers and fruits during the day and sleep with the breeze at night. What a pleasant rural life and a thriving new rural life.

There is wordless repression in the reinforced forest and poetic freedom in the countryside. People who live in reinforced concrete forests, like Parthenocissus tricuspidata, are burdened with heavy mortgages and car loans, climbing up and down in impenetrable high-rise buildings all day long, and breathing poor and thin oxygen-containing air through cracks with their vital capacity in dim light. People here freely enjoy the fresh air endowed by nature and luxuriously consume the daily necessities that strengthen the forest, and truly realize the gorgeous transformation from rural to urban, from farmers to citizens.

This leisurely and happy new life is the favor of the party's policy of benefiting the people and a rewriting of the identity of farmers in history. This is a great work that spans the times.

I can't help but think of my hometown, and faint homesickness comes back to me.

Under the blue sky, the old house in my hometown has been ruined in the wind and rain, telling the vicissitudes of the years; The path is muddy, winding in the fields, the grass is growing and the route is lost.

Home is homesickness that you can't go back to. When will the spring breeze blow my home green and let my wandering heart inhabit the warm spring flowers?

I really want to choose a residence here, where I can wander my tired body and soul in the green ocean every day and think about the value of life with my rusty soul. I really want to choose a residence here, with a window facing the water, a tea and a book, a porch listening to the rain, quietly retaining the fleeting time, and ringing the memories of the years with a flat nib; I really want to choose a residence here and regard my hometown as my hometown. ...

It's getting late and dusk is heavy. Leave for home.

Entering the city, there are many tall buildings, brightly lit and flashy.

Quiet inside, refreshing.

Tomorrow, put down all the loads, clear up your mood, go out armed to the teeth, and cultivate the paradise in your heart in the noise of the city.

I didn't stop all the way.

● Introduction to the author ●

Wang Qingying, WeChat name: Looking at flowers in the fog. Nanbu county, Sichuan, now living in Nanchong, freelance. Member of Sichuan Prose Society.