Essay on Rain Prose in Wheat Harvest Season

In everyday life, everyone knows sketches, right? Essay usually refers to a genre of prose, which is recorded at will, lyrical, narrative or commentary, and has a short length. What kind of prose is classic? The following is a short article about the rain in the wheat harvest season that I compiled for you. Welcome everyone to learn from it, I hope it will help you.

Rain in the Wheat Harvest Season 1 It was the wheat harvest season, but it rained outside. Through the window, the willow branches were messy in the wind and swayed badly from side to side. I began to worry about my family. I wonder what my father is doing at the moment. Is he squatting under the eaves and smoking while watching the rain outside?

The wheat harvest is most afraid of rain these days. The villagers' hopes span autumn, winter, spring and summer. If it rains, the harvest this season will be very bad. It rains for a short time, but if it rains for several days, the harvest will be greatly reduced. If it rains with strong winds, the situation will be even worse. Wheat will fall to the ground one after another, and harvesting is quite troublesome.

I remember that year when I was in the third grade, I had a holiday at home, and it was rainy and rainy. At that time, my family only collected a small piece of wheat in the east of the village, and the remaining two pieces were confiscated. As the years passed, my father's back bent a lot. He stood up slowly and watched the raindrops falling from the sky, drop by drop, until his mother called for dinner. That meal, my father ate quickly, and then stood over after the meal. I didn't know how to light the cigarette in my mouth.

At that time, I didn't understand what was going on, and I didn't know how my father was interested in rain. Later, my mother told me that the wheat at home could have been harvested in advance, but a few days ago I was delayed because I went to accompany my sister in the college entrance examination. At that time, my father hoped that my sister would do well in the exam, which was worthwhile. This rain has become a blessing and a prayer, but good weather is what people yearn for, but it has been satisfactory several times.

It's raining harder and harder outside. I hope tomorrow will be sunny or cloudy, even cloudy, as long as it doesn't rain. The rain during the wheat harvest is very scary.

The rain essay in the wheat harvest season lasted for 2 days, and I stopped digging and put away my bad temper. In addition, it rained a few drops last night, and when I got up in the morning, the air was cold, with a fresh and moist earthy smell, which made people feel very comfortable.

Walking through the cross street, I saw a thriving leather bag hanging on two small columns. There are many kinds of wallets, all kinds of animals, bracelets and so on. I seem to know that it is not sewn by hand, but I still have to ask, "Is it sewn by hand?" The middle-aged man selling leather bags replied sincerely, "To tell you the truth, this is not made by hand."

Pick up your wallet, put it in front of your nose, close your eyes and take a greedy breath. There is only a faint vanilla smell in the bag, and the others have no vanilla smell at all. The middle-aged man selling wallets said that the wind blew away the vanilla flavor.

It will be the Dragon Boat Festival in a few days.

Looking at the exquisite leather bag, decorated with various decorative "flower ropes", it reminds people of the hand-sewn leather bag as a child, which is fragrant, soft and colorful, with a strong vanilla realgar flavor; Bracelet, called "flower rope" in my hometown, is also made of silkworms raised at home and spun into silk thread, which adults dye in various colors. On the morning of Dragon Boat Festival, grandma and mom will put all kinds of silk threads together, rub them into beautiful flower ropes with their hands, dip some herbs in them and wear them on their children's ankles and wrists. My brother will sew the five poisons on his back, and the children will wear colorful purses on their chests ... all made by hand.

The middle-aged man selling leather bags said: hand-sewn leather bags are expensive, and women in Qingyang area make good leather bags.

When I was a child, I watched my grandmother and my mother and aunt make purses. They look so cute that I have to learn to make wallets. My mother won't allow me to do it. She was afraid that I would waste silk and dirty the kang, so I went to get grandma's needle and thread. Grandma smiled and gave me a piece of cloth, and grandma taught me to sew a purse. Grandma is always so patient, gesturing to me that after I have made one or two purses, I can make them independently. This happiness is enough to make me happy for a while.

I like making firecrackers best. I was taught by a broken girl. She drew a thick bamboo pole from a bamboo broom, cut it into small pieces with a knife, polished the cut bamboo joints with sandpaper, and began to wrap the inner and outer walls of the bamboo tube with silk thread. Then all kinds of silk threads are passed through the net, and a beautiful firecracker wallet is made in a short time. Then hang a tassel on one end of the firecrackers and sew a silk thread on the other end to facilitate the button.

Girls will also exchange their wallets for gifts and express friendship.

Now, I have some hand-sewn purses at home, which my mother made for my children and friends' mothers a few years ago. There is also a hand-sewn leather bag that my aunt bought at the crossroads a few years ago, and I have been reluctant to throw it away. I take them out to have a look at the Dragon Boat Festival every year. I wear them indoors, close my eyes and recall the appearance of the Dragon Boat Festival and my loved ones when I was a child. It is as warm as ever.

Walking in the street, the thick brown fragrance smells good. Someone bought zongzi leaves and prepared to go home and wrap zongzi. I don't have the habit of making zongzi. When I was a child, during the Dragon Boat Festival, the wheat harvest began in my hometown, and the heat wave rolled. Old people eat rice cakes and cakes, drink candied fruit and add a cup of realgar wine. Then, they plunged into the endless wheat fields and began the hard and happy summer harvest year after year.

I was born a few days before the Dragon Boat Festival. When I was born, it coincided with a bumper wheat harvest. Grandpa gave me a name with "Mai", which often reminds me of the warm summer harvest that year, the land in my hometown and the appearance of my relatives. Never forget.

At the moment, in the hometown where the Dragon Boat Festival smells, how do my villagers plunge into the wheat field, facing the wheat field and facing the sun, while the sickle is flying, the wheat waves are sleeping round and round. ...

My hometown has been dry and short of water since ancient times, and there is no source of livelihood. Everyone in this land lives a hard life.

In the slack season, it is really tiring to say that wheat will be harvested in May and corn will be harvested in autumn. When I was in primary school, there were still wheat holidays and autumn holidays at school, and there were crops to be harvested at the teacher's house. At that time, I got up at dawn and went to the fields. I went to the field to see, there were voices everywhere, but people couldn't see clearly. Adults greet each other and know who is standing in the field when they see it. Everyone hurried to work before the sun came out. There are no harvesters. They all cut the wheat all over the ground with sickles in their hands before dawn.

As the day dawned, people went home one after another to send wheat to eat on the path, and greetings began to ring in the fields again. "Uncle, it's really urgent. Why don't you go home for dinner? My aunt's cakes are cold. " His uncle smiled. "I'll be back. I'll come back as soon as I cut this lock. " His uncle, in turn, teased others. "I cut my beard a little early in the morning and didn't sleep when it was dark?" Everyone smiled and went home for dinner.

The sun rose higher and higher, and the whole village seemed to be steamed by a big stove. The wheat is getting browned more and more, and it will fall off at the touch. Everyone forgot to talk. They worked hard one after another, and the sickle danced quickly. Sweat, drop by drop, falls on the face, across the dark face, across the chin, and drops to the ground, swishing away. The wheat awn is very compact and covered with dust. If you wear short sleeves and your arms are red, you can only wear long sleeves. It's so hot, you've been bending over to cut wheat, sweating all over and your clothes are not wet. When I come home at noon, there is dust in my mouth and nose, and my throat is going to smoke.

After lunch, I had a rest and went back to work. In the afternoon, the power of the sun is a little weaker, and only the sound of a sickle cutting wheat can be heard in the field. Occasionally, people who take a break to drink water start talking when they see someone working not far away. "Aunt, what did you give him to eat at noon? Is there any meat? " "There should be no meat, it's all meat!" "Well, if there is meat, there is meat." Smile, drink some water, and then go back to work in the fields. More and more wheat has fallen, and it is getting dark. "Come on, aren't you going to Ang?" A truckload of wheat and a truckload of wheat were transported to the wheat field and coded neatly.

As night falls, the lively village is not quiet, and the lively center is the wheat field in the village. The light bulb has been pulled, and the thresher is rumbling. Everyone has a tacit understanding: young and strong people are responsible for operating the machine and sending the wheat into the threshing machine; The women covered their heads with square towels to keep out the dust and put the beaten wheat into their pockets; The child can't do anything, so he stands beside his mother and aunt. Older grandparents shoveled threshed wheat stalks to the edge of the wheat field with big forks in their hands and piled them in a pile. This is a national battle!

Bagged wheat needs to be laid flat on the roof or roadside for several days. When the sun shines directly on the earth every day, rake the wheat with a rake to prevent some wheat from contacting the sun. If God helps, wheat can be stored in the granary after several days of repetition.

When the wheat bears, the men discuss with each other, pack their bags and go out to work. The women at home take care of the elderly and children, and there are several acres of corn that have just emerged, fertilizing and weeding … waiting for the arrival of autumn!

Humans have always maintained such a spirit: remember the good and forget the unwilling. In retrospect, it seems that the hardships have faded, like old ink, but those happy fragments seem to be still in sight.

In the fourth season of wheat harvest, tomorrow's rain is the seed of awn, and the wheat will be harvested.

Nowadays, farmers no longer worry about harvesting wheat, nor do they "talk about the color change of wheat". Harvesting wheat has changed from manual labor to mechanized labor, which makes people feel that the wheat harvest season is very hard. However, every time I enter the wheat harvest season, the slightest impression of harvesting wheat when I was a child and when I went to the countryside will always come to my mind.

In the sixties, I was in the second grade of Kangzhuang Primary School in Yidu City, and participated in the wheat ear collection organized by Xuega for the first time. In June of the solar calendar, the hot and dry monsoon began to cover the land of Qilu, and the atmosphere of wheat grouting waiting for the final harvest was everywhere in the mountainous area of Luzhong. At that time, there were no mechanical harvesters and few tractors, and wheat was harvested by manpower. One cut is seven or eight days. If you encounter extreme weather such as hail and strong wind, the wheat harvest often lasts for more than half a month, and it is common for rainy weather to drag on for a month. At that time, my school was a rural school, unlike children in the city who had two months of summer vacation. The summer vacation time is determined according to the busy farming season, and there is a wheat vacation, usually two weeks; Autumn vacation usually lasts for six weeks. On the second day of the wheat holiday, I followed everyone into the wheat field and watched the golden wheat waves, and the wheat fragrance floated into my nostrils from time to time. I find it fresh and interesting. I asked my classmates next to me, where did you put the ears of wheat? This classmate told me that if you hold it in your hand first, you can't take it to the farm. On the farm, the farmer's uncle is responsible for tying it together, transporting it to the yard, drying it there, crushing it, raising it, bagging it and giving it to the public grain. At that time, I only thought it was fun, but I didn't realize the hardships paid by the farmer's uncle to harvest wheat, but I gradually understood the truth of "grain and grass returning to the warehouse". Later, my classmates and I often followed the ox cart pulling wheat, looking at a lock of wheat that was about to fall off, hoping to fall off as soon as possible, or occasionally found a lock of wheat hanging on the branches of the roadside. It was the happiest moment, holding the picked wheat to the teacher, and I felt unspeakable joy in my heart.

When I went to the countryside in the 1970s, I was just catching up with the preparations before the wheat harvest in the village. I saw the villagers discussing from time to time how the weather is recently, how yellow the wheat is, when it can be sickle, and so on. From the villagers' words, I have a preliminary understanding of the preparation work before wheat harvest: first, tools and venues, and the sickle should be sharpened before each wheat harvest to preserve the physical strength of wheat harvesting. It is also necessary to prepare three large forks with mulberry teeth to hold and turn the straw. Then there is a nine-toothed rake similar to Pig Bajie, which is used to dig out impurities such as long straw in wheat grains, and a wooden shovel to completely separate wheat grains from wheat bran (bran) and dust. Of course, there are also some strange things that children nowadays may never think of. For example, in the past, animals were used to crush wheat stalks, so that wheat grains fell off and animals naturally secreted feces. There are special bamboo baskets for shoveling out animal droppings, so I won't go into details here. In addition, each team has a special field for crushing wheat stalks, threshing and drying. The wheat field needs to be watered one week in advance, and then crushed repeatedly with bullock carts.

Cutting wheat is a coolie, and there is no happiness at all. What the villagers hate most is cutting wheat. When you see endless wheat fields, in hot weather, wearing long pants to protect stray wheat, people's confidence will be hit to the edge of despair. On the morning of the first day of wheat harvest, the wheat fields swayed in the wind, and the ears of wheat collided with each other and made a dull brushing sound because of the high moisture. I saw the wheat fall to the ground under the villagers' sickle, and then the people behind me arranged the wheat in a row with their hands and feet, and the wheat fields scattered bit by bit like being cut into bare scoops by the barber. I followed the style of ox cart and loaded the underground wheat into the cart. Loading wheat is a technical job. If the load is not good, it is easy to overturn. The secret is that the corners must be installed. There is a proper noun called "corner". If the corner is tied, the car is half loaded. So I admire the driver's style in the team, and then use the ox cart to pull the wheat back to the threshing floor. To tell the truth, this is the lightest job in the wheat harvest season, and the captain specially arranged it because the villagers were afraid that we educated youths could not stand it.

Threshing, also known as grinding, is the process of separating wheat grains from straw. After the cattle and I unloaded the wheat, several elderly villagers spread the wheat into a piece and began to play when the wheat was dry. At that time, animals such as cattle, horses and mules were used in the village to pull gravel and crush it. The paved wheat is half a meter high. With the rolling over and over again, the wheat straw gradually spread out on the ground. Because the wheat grains removed from the gravel above have fallen off, many wheat grains below have not fallen off and need to be "knocked off". I saw the old man turn up with a high rake for the second time. After two or three knockdowns, the mixture of wheat grains, wheat bran and short wheat straw remained in the wheat field. Young and old went into battle together and began to use the effect of wind to separate wheat grains from the mixture of wheat grains, wheat bran and short wheat straw. For the first time, it was lifted with a small fork, and gradually when it was lifted, there were wheat grains on one side and wheat bran and short wheat straw on the other. There will naturally be a transition zone in the middle. This transitional zone is called "Ma Dao" by the old people in the village. If the slightly longer straw can't be lifted out, grab it out along the path with a rake and sweep it out along the wheat surface with a broom. After several days of exposure, the wheat lost its moisture, became compact and became brown. It is easy to check whether the wheat is dry. Grab a few and throw them in your mouth. Crispy ones will be put into the warehouse after drying. In order to store wheat, reed mats are often used to form a wheat barn. With the dumping of wheat, the wheat barn is gradually surrounded, forming a very tall wheat barn. The villagers also put the word "Feng" on the wheat barn to pray for a bumper harvest in the coming year.

Although the wheat harvest is the most tiring thing in a year, the villagers sit around a small table and eat a bowl of cold noodles or jiaozi made of freshly ground wheat. Not to mention how happy they are, those boring things disappeared with the joke. As the saying goes, happiness lies in misfortune, and misfortune depends on happiness. On the sixth day of the wheat harvest, I came to the ridge of the wheat field in an ox cart. I saw dozens of villagers wearing straw hats and waving sickles in the golden wheat waves. They leaned over, swam and paddled their arms in the wheat fields, and large tracts of wheat fell at their feet. Soon, people left a big ear of wheat that had just swayed with the wind. I tied the wheat into bundles with the handle of an ox, and then loaded it into an ox cart and transported it to the yard. There is no wind in the field, but the sun is very poisonous and burns people's heads, faces and backs. Once, twice, ten times ... I don't know how many times. I don't see sweat on my face. As soon as the sweat came out, it was dried by the sun. But inside, I was so thirsty that I licked my dry lips and looked at so many unfinished wheat. My heart is a little tired.

There are unexpected events in the sky. The days of June are like changeable baby faces. Just now, there were no clouds in Wan Li, and Wan Li's eyes were empty. Suddenly, a large dark cloud gathered in the sky. Dark clouds come from the northwest, and the sky is black. Thunder was faintly heard in the distance. Then, dark clouds suddenly fell on Tainan's head, and there was a tendency of "dark clouds pressing the city to urge". Seeing this formation, the cow told me that when cutting wheat in the field, I was most afraid of rain. If the wheat on the ground is not washed clean, it will rot and sprout, and a year's hard work will be wasted. I gave a whoop of "Oh" and accelerated the loading speed. At this moment, the sky thundered and the wind suddenly rose. Niu Bashi tied a bundle with rope, then picked up the whip, shouted and drove away. Just then, because the road was washed away by rain, the car slipped forward, and Niu Bashi braked and squeezed my thumb hard. I almost cried out in pain, and my face was covered with bean-sized sweat. It's raining harder and harder, and there are no people in the car. As the saying goes: ten fingers are connected to one heart. After returning to the dormitory, I found a piece of white gauze to wrap my fingers, only to be known by a girl in the educated youth point and win my heart.

Nowadays, with the progress of the times, harvesting wheat seems to be handed over to machines, and people enjoy it. Wheat harvesting has also changed from heavy and lengthy manual labor to the aftertaste of life.

Rain Prose in the Fifth Season of Wheat Harvest Last autumn, in this barren land, no, it was fertile soil. He planted "Yumai-17" with his sweat and seeds of hope.

Autumn wind sweeps the leaves, and swallows fly south. He ran to the ground again and again, looked and looked, and the wheat came out of the ground like a needle tip, neat and tidy, and the entanglement in his heart was relieved.

His heart has already turned into a wheat field, full of endless energy. He is good at hoeing, weeding, plowing and harrowing fields. At that time, he was still young and a famous magician in Fiona Fang.

He is loyal, loyal. When harvesting wheat, he always quietly went to the wheat field of Aunt Wang, a military family member in the west of the village, and left quietly after finishing his work. So many "smart" people in the village call him "true-stupid".

Fifty years of spring flowers and autumn fruits, fifty years of eventful years, the past is like smoke. Now he is seventy years old, but he has never lost his farm work in the fields. In his words: "It is better to live in your own home and come out with everything. Now that the situation is good, you don't have to go anywhere."

The low adobe houses in the village have gradually become history, replaced by small villas on the upper and lower floors; The potholed path leading to the town has already become an asphalt road, which has been widened for the third time this year.

As far as I can remember, he never left this small county with a population of 450,000 to 760,000, but he lived contentedly in this land. His wife is more human than he knows and gets along well with her neighbors. She has been taking care of this family. Their only son, although he didn't finish primary school, is now outstanding under the influence of pure family style.

My son works in the city. With his hard-working spirit, he went out from the village to be a mason at the age of 15. By being honest and willing to work, he has developed a good skill, but his father's "reality-stupidity" is in his bones, which has been recognized by his peers and customers. Now he has more than 100 migrant workers' brothers, and his father's style of losing money has caused him to default and deduct workers' wages. The quality of the project is better than that of regular big companies, so their project has never been completed.

How many times has his son advised him: "Dad, stop farming and enjoy a few years of happiness. I can support my family. " He always stubbornly retorts: "What do cultivators eat if they don't farm?" Gradually, the child understood his heart and stopped dissuading him. During the busy farming season, he had to take his wife and children home to help. He experienced an unprecedented sense of accomplishment and repeatedly said to his wife, "Look how good the harvest is this year." Daughter-in-law is filial, and grandson is at his knees. His wife was naturally so happy that her eyes narrowed. She whispered, "Dad, you still have to plant this land."

In the days after Xiaoman, he went to the field station every day, walked along the ridge to the center of the ground, looked around the earth, and the wheat that turned yellow day by day was as happy as a child. From time to time, he bent down and carefully counted the closely arranged grains on the ears of wheat. He smiled sweetly.

He broke off an ear of wheat with his hand, put it in his palm and rubbed it hard, rubbing off the awn and the shell wrapped in wheat. At this time, he puffed his cheeks and pursed his mouth. With a gentle blow, the wheat awns flew around and the fresh wheat grains lay quietly in his hands. This simple new wheat is his hope and renewal of life.

This year's wheat is ripe, and he will continue to harvest "pay and hope" in this land he watches.

He put the new wheat in his mouth and chewed it with his broken teeth. His heart has already been implanted in this land.