Recommended reading ｜ Go to the field

—— "村.” "Series of forty -one

□ Li Donghong

A few days ago, I had a dream. In the dream, I returned to the field in the village. In the field, the wheat ears swayed in the breeze, and there was a faint fragrance in the air. Occasionally, birds flew over and soared in the blue sky.

Last weekend, when I returned to the village, the car arrived at the village, and I couldn't wait for the underground car to walk on the path in the cornfield. On both sides of the path, corn trees are taller than me. On the long corn rods, there are long corn sticks, peeling a corn stick, and round corn seeds are already a little golden. The whole field is filled with a sweet taste.

Go out of the cornfield, opposite the melon and peppers of the brothers in the village. The melon has been sold, and only the red pepper hangs on the branches, looking far away, a fiery red.

"On the day of the day of Yuntian, the children of the village are the heads of the village. Tongsun has not solved the plowing and weaving, and it is also across the mulberry to learn to plant melons."

I don't know why, I have a stubborn likes to the field. Every time I return to the village, I especially like to walk in the field and run in the field, like a child. In the field, in winter, watch the wheat germinate in the cold wind; in spring, watch the rapeseed flowers all over the ground; in summer, smell the flavor of melon fruit;

In the field, that kind of love, that kind of happiness is from the bottom of the heart.

In fact, the field in the village has been destined to grow in my heart.

I remember the end of the college entrance examination that year, just as the wheat was collected, and there were mature wheat everywhere in the field. At noon, when she returned home, her mother was bent in the ground with a sickle to collect wheat with sickle. The hot waves in the fields hit the people. The sweat was soaked with her mother's back, and her mother's face was covered with sweat. I picked up the sickle and was about to cut the wheat. Mother said, "Baby, don't do it, let's rest, I'll cut it."

I didn't want to let my mother too hard, I picked up the sickle and cut the wheat. After a while, I was so tired that I was sweating, and my waist was a little painful.

At this time, there was a sound of selling popsicles on the road. The mother stopped, walked to the roadside, bought a popsicle at 5 minutes, and walked to the ground for me. "Mother, don't you eat?"

"Mother is okay, it's too hot, don't live hot, eat, cool down," cool down. "

After receiving the popsicles, a kind of warmth rushed to my heart.

It was the evening when the winter vacation returned home from Zhengzhou University. Mother is not at home. Neighbors said that the mother was pouring wheat in the ground.

When I walked to the north of the village, I saw my mother standing in the field holding the iron cricket, looking far away, like a mountain. When I walked to the mother, I saw the mother holding her trousers, and her shoes were wet by the water, and my body was shaking a bit.

"Mother, it's so cold, go home quickly."

"Silly child, how can crop people afraid of being frozen? Now it is the wheat that is drought in the ground, and you have to water it quickly. Sometimes the crops are like people. If you are good to it, it will give you a good harvest. Besides I still expect to sell the wheat to pay you tuition. "

At that moment, I never held back the tears in my eyes ...

Yes, there are too many hope in the field, there are too many persistence, and there are too many unyielding, including the crops, the wind, the sun.

The broad fields, nurturing generations of villagers, in the field, also recorded the hard work of generations of villagers, leaving generations of diligent figures in generations of villagers, including my mother.

Today, the mother has been sleeping on the vast field, and has turned into the blooming flower on the field.

Many times, the reason why I ca n’t tell is just like every time I return to my hometown, I like to walk in the field. Sometimes when you are tired or unhappy, when you reach the field, you are full of strength.

Maybe there is something in the field, which has been engraved in my bones long ago, flowing in my blood ...

[About the author: Li Donghong, a native of Fugou County, Henan, graduated from the Department of Journalism of Zhengzhou University. He has successively served as editor and reporter of the Henan Daily, deputy director of the news special release department, and deputy director of the new media department. The editor -in -chief of the Henan Legal System. He has published 5 minister novels and prose collection of "Want to Watch Rain", "Anti -Corruption", "I'm a Police", "Question of Life", "52 Letters Written to Mother". Among them, "Question of Life" won the "Five One Engineering Awards" in Henan Province. .

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