And the winter in the mountains came silent, and a little rain came down. Dad was busy collecting straws not needed by the farmers in the village, using a lawn mower to harvest reeds from the desert hills, and laying thick “winter blankets” on the winter trees. Look away, the whole orchard is wrapped in the smell of winter。
"look, the tree is blooming." we're on the back of half a hill, and we're surprised by this tree's flower。
This time, this place, it's rare to see flowers. Although there is no flower, no fragrance, no fragrance, only close enough to smell the light sweetness and the coolness of the silk and a light fragrance that breathes with the cold air. The memories and taste buds in the deep of my head were awakened in a moment, and i couldn't help but take a deep sip。
There are no saplings in the home, and since the beating of walnuts, nelly has become a new pet, and the villagers rarely grow any more trees behind their front houses. The tree of the orchard, which is half of the hill, is neither easy nor easy。
Thirteen years ago, his husband officially ended his employment as an it man and worked as an employee at a direct district unit in deyyang. The first home visit took place during the period of “frownland” and sichuan's “early ripe” lycÉes were listed. The husband dragged a box full of dozens of pounds back to the inflammation hills. The undeposited lids smelled fruit, opened the lids and were well protected, with only round fruit, tan, fresh and smooth, and a little baby's fist. Tearing open the thin skins of fruit, the luminous flesh, with sweet water, like soft pudding, makes it impervious to take a sip, to eat in the mouth, sweetly sweet, and with a fragrance, which feels better than a fruit shop, supermarket. We picked out some good seeds and buried them in the mud of the bouquets on the roof, which unfortunately did not produce seedlings。
The following winter, the husband returned home with more than 10 seedlings, each about 30 centimetres high, wrapped in a thick field, which, along with the earth's herds, fell more than 1,300 kilometres into the inflammation mausoleum. I sent out some seedlings, and my father planted them carefully outside the walls of his home playground and uncles in the garden. As a result of the prolonged absence from home and the harsh weather conditions such as freezing and drought, only three young children were left alive in the following spring, and the uncles died in the kitchen. Dad's got a bad heart, and he's transplanted it to sunshine, moisture, and more fertile pighouses. As a result, thanksgivingly, the roofs of the shed were extended over less than two years. The next year, a little velvet。
After the spring season, the branches of the twig produce a handful of green fruits, and the home is filled with joy. A few months later, on labor day 51, we finally reaped the same fruit-like round, large and tumbled, and we were careful to remove it, and we were afraid that the fruit tree would be in its own shape and taste, and we could not wait for the family to share the first fruit. That's right. That's what it tastes like。
Following this verification, the twig tree received a great deal of love from his father, cutting, deworming, fertilizer, pine soil, and later re-migrating the twig to the most promising slope of the orchard. The tang dynasty poet zheng zheng said, “the temple is full of flowers, and the old monks see each other”, and that's the picture. In the clear sky, the sun shines on the rusty furs of the flowers and the flowers, looking far away. Some of the sun slips quietly from the gaps in the leaves, with the exposed yellow land, as if it were a golden wave of wheat. The wind is blowing, the shadows are shaking, and the light and leaves on the ground are as if they were living in an instant and were jumping on the ground。
I stood on the hillside and looked at this tree and looked like i saw a tree. And the flowers are spread over the branches, and the leaves are covered with green leaves, and the flowers are small and numerous, and the white flowers are squeezed into a string. Each flower is small, and the flower is only a thumbcap. More than a dozen of them all together. Each branch stretches to the four sides with a small flower plume, and the whole tree is turned into a small garden。
The epiphany of the flower is made of cold hammers. She keeps practicing, blooming in cold winds, blooming in frost, blooming in ice and snow, so you don't feel it is winter. Perhaps she is not fighting the cold, but she is enjoying the warmth of winter, waiting for spring like a poem。
