The longer you are leaving, the more homesick you are.

When I took the tile roof sickle to cut the wheat, my mother repeatedly told me to put on a straw hat. She said, the sun poison outside, beware of tanned face, the town is dirty. Mother said this for more than 20 years, now, the warm straw hat is placed in my study prominent position.

A few times moved, shabby a bit of relic-like straw hat are almost doomed. I was reluctant to abandon it, emitting a faint earthy atmosphere, which often reminds me of the farm implements that are active in the country.

I hold the plow over the ground, standing on the rake waving a whip to break the soil, pulling the gou son sowing species, carrying iron hoe cleared the grass, holding a sickle cut the wheat, lifted Mu Yi Yang. In the meantime, the straw hat always wears on the head, for I cover the Yang to block over the rain, let me ignite the hope of life.

Of all the farm implements, I like hoes in particular. When the crops sprout, they come out of the earth, and all kinds of delicate grass buds follow. At this time, along the whole furrow of the aerate, must hoe on again. The best time to weeding, not in the early days of a cool cold morning, not apathy gradually, the summer has receded in the evening, and in the Geroux of the noon, the reason is conceivable. Summer rains, weeds grow fast, a season of crops to hoe 35 times before. Hoeing not lightly, both extermination, but also to protect the crops, and children roughly similar.

Touch the smooth hoe of wood, looking at the Zaomu or pine on the lap of a circle of grain, yearning for the harvest when the sweet, hoeing natural extra intentions. In fact, Hoeing is the exchange of feelings with the earth, to the crops to talk about the heart, where there is any hard and tired?

The father was a skilled carpenter, and the axe, saw, 锛 and fountain were running freely in his hands, as the wise Abacus gourd the beads, and he became an artist in the carpentry kingdom. He is also a good bashi in cropland. Fork Tiao PA Broom winnowing Shovel, bringeth dustpan make cattle whip, sieve 抬筐 sack hoarding, plow Columbine hoe and pole, he play to a marvelous of the Acme.

Deep in my mind often emerges from the father's figure, whenever at this time, the heart always feel sour, qichu. Father distressed just hand small ox, set on it La Gou, at the same time let me accompany to pull. My inner resentment flaming, I deliberately pull the rope feebly. The father, who was standing behind the whip, shouted twice, as if not as a bull, but as a spur to me. This scene so far I still engraved in mind, the past distinctly, thinking of the sad choking. Life, whenever I am addicted to ease, trying to lazy, the stern father seems to be standing behind, it makes me immediately alert, Shan Shan thought dust, continue along the path of life full of thorns ahead.

Young like to sit on the side of playing wheat field, leisurely, comfortable, see the old Buffalo pulled bringeth rolling golden wheat, the ripples in the circle; look at the young man flying Mu Yi the wheat to the mid-air, wheat and-head tiannvsanhua like fly down; see the girl in the village Xiaoxifu buzzing to use a dustpan to put piles of wheat into sacks, Then they are stacked in the middle of the wheat field. Drink just from the bamboo broom off the bamboo leaves bubble into the tea, smelling the air of the sun and the farmyard of wheat emitted from the strands of fragrance, that comfortable, comfortable is to hide in the study will never enjoy the taste.

Twilight, tired of the day people began to sit in the shadow of the moon to listen to the village drama, it is a feast in the countryside! Mother to see everyone eat, hurriedly clean up the chopsticks, then end up on the spinning wheel shouted I went to Xi Chang. Mimizaza crowd, noisy noisy, only wait for that erhu, shamisen son a pull, simple board a knock, all silent, static get off root needle son also hear clear. The mouth of the storyteller, the mother's spinning wheel also quickly spin up. To tell the truth, "three-man five righteousness" Ah, "said Yue Quan Zhuan" Ah, "the Three Kingdoms Legends" Ah, these quwen for me is not too much attraction, the spinning wheel beautiful melody instead let me intoxicated unceasingly, often that hindering into rhyme accent will I bring into sweet dreamland.

Finalizing, in the enjoyment and comfort of the people each walk away. Mother is always the last to leave the field, in order to wake up the dream of the son. Stillness, Yuemingxingxi, mother with a spinning wheel in front of me, I stumbled along behind. In the distance came the village North Lao Yang Home Stone grinding Dingdings ...

I am a country wanderer, with those warm farm tools have not to give up the emotion, they witnessed my growth, bring me a huge spiritual wealth. I see the nobility in those farm implements that speak. They are simple, quality loyal, do not show off, not a field, not flashy, not affectation, silently and clinging to the country waiting. You say, stand in the heaven and earth between us, do a sickle, do a hoe, even if the top cover the wind and rain straw hat, not all can realize the value of life?

The longer you are uprooted, the more homesick you are. Miss those warm and can speak the farm implements, wise those upright fellow. With a quick heart, tomorrow morning, wearing a straw hat, carrying a sincere heart, to return to the homeland ...

The longer you are leaving, the more homesick you are.