The sky is slightly blue, and white clouds of different shapes set off the sky. The earth scorched by the sun, hot air spread from the soles of the feet to the whole body. I don't know where the birds are hiding in the summer, but cicadas are screaming and cheering at the top of their lungs, burning their hearts. Short stone piles, bare purple shale and large gravel exude the momentum of a flaming mountain, and yellow hay crawls in disorder, as if the temperature is higher, it can reach the fire point. The wind blows the corn leaves curled by high temperature, giving off the crisp autumn leaves. The corn leaves turn yellow and wither, and some of them drop fruit. The vines of cantaloupe and watermelon are intertwined, sticking to the earth and extending far away, as if eager to find a moist soil that can make life grow, and the melons and fruits lose their moist deformities. Plants and trees are drooping their heads, depressed, unhappy and dying. According to the villagers, it hasn't rained a drop here for more than two months, and the temperature continues to be high.

Looking around, the green grass in the rice field is rolling with heat waves, and stocks are attacking the heart. I unscrewed the bottle cap in my hand, bangbang, and fell on my back, still not at ease. Sweat as big as these beans. This is the heat of all the water being thrown at this thumping throat, and my body seems to be soaked in Chili water. Grandma is lying on the rattan chair sofa in little grandma's house. She just picked watermelons from the field and took them out of the refrigerator. Before freezing, the juice is bright red and warm. Hometown with four distinct seasons gives people such a strong feeling every season, and so does the heat in summer. Mr. Wang propped up a parasol, took a hat from his grandmother's house and put it on, thus breaking into the hot weather where there was nowhere to hide even if he hid.

Along the street, a two-story building is strewn at random, with locked doors and no one. No longer like the old summer afternoon, people leaned against the pillars of the promenade, shaking the cattail leaf fan in one hand and holding the hometown specialty Longxiu Popsicle in the other. Parents were short and laughing. Where the footsteps pass by, the wandering thoughts also step on the flames and rush to the place where I was born, my grandmother's ancestral home and the diaojiao building. Walking along the footsteps, I can't see the diaojiao building as far as the eye can see. The spreading pumpkin vines are dotted with orange pumpkin flowers, and the flowers have withered. Standing quietly on this land, I suddenly heard a creaking sound from the floor of the diaojiao building, as if it were a gap to time and space. The raindrops hanging on the feet dripped from the eaves and landed in the lotus pond in front of the building. They are small, leaning against the window lattice, dragging the lattice wooden window bars with their small hands and climbing as simple as little macaques.

Often on the second floor, overlooking the fish and duckweeds in the lotus pond under the window, playing in the clear water, duckweeds are covered with green lotus flowers. The green dragonfly has some water and stands on the top of the lotus. The frog squats on the lotus leaf, croakes and sings summer songs, and rushes downstairs to drink lotus dew in the morning. The villain will also climb up and down the stairs with thick wooden boards hanging, take off his shoes from his feet, throw them down through the cracks in the stairs, pick them up and throw them down again, and so simply cycle back and forth and enjoy themselves. Or just sit on the floor, play the role in the TV series and experience the feeling of overlooking. Grandma's footsteps often come upstairs: "baby!" " Sit inside and make way for grandma. "In my memory, stairs without fences never fall down. The wooden ladder extends from top to bottom, leading to the door on the first floor, facing the high wooden threshold and the immature time. My mother told me that at that time, I often sat on the high threshold and counted the ants that climbed up. There is a square table in the lobby on the first floor, surrounded by four long benches. When sitting around the table, there is an orderly division of labor between young people and old people. Old people and elderly people sit down. Although I haven't learned how to distinguish seats, the time around the table has taught me to respect the old and love the young. On the corner cabinet near the square table, there is a black and white TV set. At that time, I watched TV on time every night, and watched the weather forecast at 7: 30. The order of city broadcasts was reversed, which made my grandfather laugh. When there is no program on TV, a map of the earth will pop up on the white screen.

The corner cabinet is also used as the partition wall of the room screen on the first floor. Behind the cupboard in the corner, there is a wooden shelf bed. At that time, there were many beds at home, and it was common for visitors to stay overnight. Once, my brother and I came to my grandmother's house. My grandmother is out, not at home. The two of them hid in the back nest, trying to give her an unexpected surprise. They pressed the corner of the quilt tightly and laughed secretly. I don't know when they fell into a deep dream. When I woke up, I saw grandma's smiling face: "I said I saw your shoes under the bed." Where are all those strange people? They fell asleep under the covers. " A burst of laughter echoed in the room.

In the upper left corner of the first floor, there is a coal-burning stove, which will give people warmth. Talking and laughing around the stove, baking Ciba, warming rotten wine, baking dried squid and baking oranges, memories are warm, which warms people's lives and their hearts. Out of the lobby on the first floor, two stone steps staggered, step by step, winding out of the gate. Stepping up the stairs, it is a kitchen filled with fireworks. On the top of the kitchen, the smoke that has been filled with food at four o'clock has been stained with a heavy background of life. It's dark, just like my grandmother's face smoked in the kitchen. It's the most beautiful face in life. On the beam of the stove, there are neatly bundled sweet potatoes and cold potatoes, as well as garlic cloves and dried red peppers. Why are you hanging here? I have never asked myself, I don't know, I don't know much, I just know that food is abundant. No longer like the story of grandma shaking a cattail fan in history, there is no food and clothing, and there is famine and starvation everywhere. In childhood, happiness comes first, and so does eating. I like sitting around the red mud stove, leading the pot, often around the stove fire, drooling over my grandmother's fine work, frying twist, fried sweet potato chips, fish skin peanuts, bean cakes, hemp roots, meat Baba, tung leaves Baba ... My grandmother seems to have a pair of magical hands, as a typical woman of that era, farming. And the delicious food that grandma filled with childhood is also the eternal memory of taste buds on the tip of the tongue. Grandma also teaches herself, eats well, dresses warmly and lives healthily, which is the happiness of life.

Above the back of the kitchen, the pavilion and the top have completely collapsed. At that time, the half corner was surrounded by crisp bamboo, and the high roof was shaded and ventilated, which was the only passage in and out of Changqiu Street and a good place for people to relax and enjoy the cool in summer. Perilla said: "It is better to eat without meat than to live without bamboo." The pavilion is also the only way to the bamboo forest behind the house. Standing in front of the pavilion, the sun shines through the cracks in the bamboo, dazzling light, flashing blurred eyes, a white awn, clearly showing a long-lost sight. Yellow bamboo leaves that have not been swept away by the west wind cover the ground, and green leaves cover the sky, which can shelter from the wind in winter and cover the sun in summer. The hammer is in grandma's hand, sunflower seeds are washed up and down, and the happy taste of harvest is ups and downs. Full melon seeds fall into the bamboo basket. Sunflower trays without fruit are hung by ropes woven by our children with various materials, and the two ends of the rope are tied to bamboo joints, dressed up as their own small world. The slicing knife is in the old man's hand, thin and flat bamboo strips are flying in his hand, as well as bamboo baskets, bamboo armchairs, tables, bamboo beds, bamboo baskets ... exquisite handicrafts are coming out in a familiar way. Picking peanuts, peeling beans, threshing corn ... it seems that all manual farm work can be done in bamboo forests. Bamboo grove is an amusement park for children. The monkey's ability to climb the pole is self-evident. Bending bamboo and jumping up and down little people all have the potential of fearless courage and agility.

There are bamboo shoots in the bamboo forest in spring, shady in summer, rustling in autumn wind and bamboo bending in winter ... All year round, there are always many moving places, so I just tread lightly in the bamboo forest and listen to gossip, or Su Like said, "A misty rain is my life." I was in my position at that time. I didn't know I could have such a good mood and a lot of profound joy. People often talk about gains and losses. From the perspective of a person's life, it is always proportional. Knowing what you have, you will be happy, which can be described as real contentment. The bamboo forest has been stepped into a secluded path by the footsteps of years, winding around, and the secluded path will inevitably lead to a secluded place, and also communicate with the path next to the kitchen in the diaojiao building.

Pieces of slate are built, and the corners are covered with furry moss. The stick scraped the moss off the slate in its own hands and met earthworms and unknown bugs. Listening to the voice of the earthworm, like a brave warrior, teasing the bug with a small stick and forging a time to play with the bug. The most striking thing on the path is the old dead tree. Every spring, the trunk will take out a little new green, but it will not be as lush as the umbrella cover. Dead trees have been bald since I can remember. On the treetop of the dead tree, there stands a huge magpie nest with a mouth like a pot, just like freehand brushwork: "Old vines are faint, bridges are flowing." Sitting on the steps of the stone road, with chin in both hands, I was in a daze, listening to the chirping of magpies, pricking up my ears and looking up at magpies jumping on the branches. Little people, wholeheartedly, want to have a pair of free wings, fly with magpies, look at their love nests, sit on magpies' love nests like Thumbelina and hold the blue sky. In the evening, the smoke from kitchen chimneys curled around the dead trees, and the magpie nest was full of fireworks. It's just that the good intentions that I didn't understand at that time were hidden in the memory of time, waiting for time to ferment and make life more fragrant and warmer.

Go up the stairs along the path, and you can see the palm trees you see. Undoubtedly, it is not an old friend, but will the old palm tree in front of you greet you with the same excitement but gentleness? At that time, palm trees were entangled with thick vines and hung with small fruits the size of passion fruit. Adults often warn children that fruits are highly toxic and should not be touched. Now I know that jelly fruit used to hang on vines. Brown buns are also hung on palm trees, which is also a great edible ingredient. Children always have endless curiosity and want to taste. The information at that time was far behind now, just like the story of playing with a bowl of flowers. Adults always protect their children in their own way. Aunt handed the picked fruits to herself one by one and put them in a golden hat. The milky juice swayed in the air along her daughter's tender little hand. Through the light and shadow in the tree gap, I know that time can't go back, but the fragrance of the years can't be taken away! A small fruit, in my aunt's hand, rolled like an escape, chased down the hillside and came to the river. The water smells like fish, duckweed floats all over the river, and it's hard to see the color of clear water. On both sides of the river, the roads with cement patterns are neatly repaired, and the river is silent. It is no longer the flowing water that gurgles up and down, but the winding river is clear and cheerful. In the clear river, you can see the gravel at the bottom of the river, all kinds of pure white and gorgeous shells, hidden in the river sand, and nodded wittily. Green water plants along the water flow are soft in the water, and small fish shuttle between the water plants. As thin as hair, dark green water plants make agile skills impossible to capture.

Tie big braid to the water grass, shout "Little River Girl", splash water and play with waves, and the wet water in clothes and trousers filters the water, so she is carefree. There is a thick grass by the river. It is common for children to mistake Duan Cao for a bodhisattva before they know its name. I like to pull out the grass and restore it. I am full of curiosity, playing with the interest brought by holiday grass. It is not known how many knots of grass the child has pulled up and how many times. I only know myself. Every time I meet a holiday, I can't help it. I reached out to them and pulled out the festival one by one, just like building blocks, splicing the longest festival segment. I never get tired of it. Long time no see. I really appreciated it at that time and enjoyed the joy given by nature. "Compendium of Materia Medica" mentioned that solar terms are also blindly herbal medicines, and I am no stranger. Even after a long time, I can clearly show what I looked like when I first saw it. If people study, they can be as close to natural objects as possible, and they must be deeply rooted in their own cognitive memory.

There are rows of clustered Coix lachryma plant awnings along the small river bank. At that time, people didn't know it was coix seed. In people's appellation, I heard something indecent: "urine beads". Because the bracts of coix seed are as smooth, shiny and beautiful as conch shells, it is very difficult to try to bite the mature bracts with their teeth. Girls like to pick the bracts of coix seed, string them into bracelets and wear them around their necks. At that time when the material was not very developed, many toys were given to us by nature.

My aunt pointed to the clusters of water bamboo in the river and told herself that it was planted by my aunt. This season is a good time for water bamboo to be tender and delicious. At that time, we would plunge into the water, pull off strips of water bamboo that are very similar to corn, tear off layers of dumpling skins, and drip through clear water, just like water chestnuts and water chestnuts, and send them directly to our mouths to make raw fruits, leaving a little bit of sweetness between our lips and teeth. The water bamboo on the dining table, as a vegetable, is the smell of fireworks and the delicious food that people often miss. It was also the river in front of the door, which brought a little richness to life and made me feel the closest connection with nature at that time.

At that time, rivers, original ecological environment and various kinds of creatures. It is common to catch turtles and crabs in this river. I also like to follow my brother like a small tail and like bold boys. In the hot afternoon, seven or eight children, in groups of three or five, rolled up their trouser legs, waded in the river to catch fish and crabs, picked up snails and shellfish and swam. All creatures, at the moment of being captured with their bare hands, have infinite fun and a sense of accomplishment. Everything seems out of control, but it has endless innocence. When night falls, adults will take their children to the river to play in the water. Women will squat on the big stone slab by the river and beat their family's clothes with a hammer. The splash will be as clear as during the day. Just like, in the summer at that time, there was a small river, and countless refreshments could spread in life.

An egret, jumping on the river bank, skimmed the river gently, swinging green duckweed to show stagnant water, and immediately floated up, with its wings missing. At that time, in the early morning, many egrets could always be seen shuttling through the danqing fields by the river. The river flows slowly, painting the most vivid picture of nature. The river flows through four seasons and endless childhood.

Standing quietly by the river, in the old street, the only old house is like an orphan, and the diaojiao building collapsed. Everything in front of me is the shadow of yesterday's life. The feeling of pulling away is like a big dream in life. Diaojiaolou has no trace in time, but it is always printed in my heart.