Having lived in these buildings made of steel and concrete for a long time, life is uneventful, peaceful and comfortable with a touch of worry. With the falling snow outside the window, my hometown slowly fell into sleep. When everything was about to return to silence, suddenly, a wisp of smoke rose up, connecting the sky and the earth. The endless wisp of green smoke lingered in front of my eyes, and it immediately aroused my endless thoughts.
The smoke from cooking in the alleys of Qicheng floats like clouds among the tiled houses. On the rubble of the rows of houses, accompanied by the early morning mist, you can see the mist in the distance. At this time, the crowds in the streets will return to their homes, working together with the smoke from the kitchen, and the coolness of the morning in Qicheng, kneading thousands of tender feelings and whispers together into a picture. The unique ink landscape paintings of my hometown stir up the endless reveries of passers-by.
The smoke floating in the city wall is like a girl in white, dancing gracefully in the fields with beautiful mountains and clear waters, carrying the solemnity of people's expectations in the vague and leisurely way, carrying the morning dew and whispers of emotion. Climbing to the sky, it adds a unique touch to the scenery of Qicheng; a golden sun shoots out from the gap between the two buildings into the sky, gently covering her with a layer of golden clothing.
She is happier than the average person! She left behind works (food), retained time, engraved emotions, and made everything escape, leaving a lingering sound and a lively and fragrant atmosphere.
In the beautiful dream among the white clouds, the shadows are soothing and tired.
? My home is located in a high and open place. When I was young, after school, I would look up and see the smoke coming out of the window. She waved to me gently, welcoming me back. ; Her elegance and warmth have always protected me until I traveled far as an adult.
However, there are also some big troubles living here. During the rainy season, the hut in my hometown always leaks, and sometimes even electricity leaks. At this time, my father would try his best to mend the cracks in the wall and repair the wires. His big hands were thick and delicate. At that time, he was as strong as an ox. There was another snowstorm not long ago, and the old man sprained his ankle on the way back. He sighed endlessly. His agile and vigorous figure eventually became a long and vague memory of mine.
? Nowadays, every household uses gas stoves and induction cookers, but I still miss the old days of cooking. I turn on the stove and start a fire to cook. The wisps of green smoke fly into the sky along with the sparks. It is as spectacular as a spaceship flying into the sky.
One day, when I returned to my former residence, the people who used to sit at the entrance of the alley, play bird games, and play chess were all gone. There was no one around, and I felt desolate. Turning the corner, I heard the sound of music, and following the sound, I saw an old man in a green cloth shirt, sitting in a mottled ink pavilion, playing the erhu to the passers-by. The music was melodious, but he had a calm attitude towards all kinds of disasters. . I stopped and listened for a long time until dusk fell.
Saying goodbye to the old man, I walked home helplessly and in a daze. My sultry mind completely sobered up, replaced by his vicissitudes of life and melancholy back. The old man was like a withered bodhi tree, helplessly falling. In an unknown alley in Wancheng, but for some reason, that ancient alley was tightly filled with his lonely and lonely shadow, and I was not allowed to turn back.
Zen Master Zhixuan once said that the trees are full of red flowers, and the flowers have fallen from thousands of branches. Only one flower is left, and it will surely follow the wind tomorrow. This is to be expected. The last red flower on the branch will definitely fall with the wind tomorrow.
The smoke from cooking stoves, which connects the meridians of dozens of generations, is gradually lost in the tide of civilization and progress. While living in a high-walled building, I still can't help but think of the misty and rainy Qicheng, and the beautiful lady who is looking forward to it in Lanting. Those wisps of green smoke are like the silver hair of parents, swaying, constantly arising and lingering in the dreams of every wanderer in a foreign land.