The following is for reference only:
Childhood is the best time in life, and hometown is the most difficult attachment in people's hearts. Although I am middle-aged, I still have too many memories of my hometown and childhood. Every scene of the past seems like yesterday, clear, interesting, unforgettable, and warm. My hometown is Zangjia Village, Fushan District, Yantai City. In this village, surrounded by mountains and rivers, full of flowers and fruits, and crops everywhere, interesting stories and songs that belong to our childhood flow all year round, which are deeply imprinted in my heart.
The story of spring is mainly written on Beishan Watchtower. Every time, my friends and I would meet up in the village alley, walk along a rugged mountain road through wheat fields, turn west, and enter the village orchard as the hillside gradually rises. Behind the orchard is a steep slope. After climbing up, you will see a mountain of pine trees, acacia trees and wild flowers and weeds. This is not our destination yet. We will walk through the pine forest, climb the branches, grab the weeds, and climb with difficulty to the top of the mountain, because there is a watchtower left from the Anti-Japanese War.
Every time we reach the top of the mountain, we rush to the top of the watchtower and look around. The scenery is simply too beautiful: blue sky and white clouds above, mist lingering in the distance, winding mountains, orderly terraces, fruit trees and flowers blooming all over the mountains, and village houses scattered in a well-proportioned manner, poetic and picturesque, so beautiful. We will shout loudly: I'm here, hello, Dashan... After a while, the same echo will come from the distance, but the sound echoes through the mountains more pleasantly and longer.
After getting off the watchtower, it’s our place to have fun. Oddly enough, at that time, I was a natural leader. This may have something to do with me being the squad leader at school and studying well. My friends all followed my orders. I divided the friends into two groups. One group, led by me, made straw hats from green grass and put them on their heads, pretending to be the Eighth Route Army. The other group pretended to be Japanese soldiers on the watchtower. We started playing in different ways. "Catch the Japs" game. In an instant, crackling gunfire, laughter and shouts of death resounded throughout the valley. Every time we reached the watchtower, we used wooden sticks and guns to hold the "japs" who raised their hands in surrender, and then walked down the watchtower obediently, and we cheered for victory.
We sometimes pick wild flowers and wild strawberries in the surrounding mountains and forests, play "sticking plaster" and other games. We often lose track of time while playing, and reluctantly go home after sunset. .
Interesting things in summer mainly gather at the hometown riverside in the center of the village. At that time, the hometown river flowed from west to east, flowing in all seasons, with different depths. The bottom was clearly visible in the shallow parts, and you could see small fish swimming happily, and it covered your waist in the deep parts, like a quiet lake. We will pass by a village bridge in the center of the village, which is a natural paradise where we often stop and play.
Our joy comes every time after a heavy rain. Watching the water rushing after the rain on the Cunxin Bridge is a great pleasure. After the rain, the hometown river gathered rainwater from all directions and transformed into a roaring river lion, spreading its teeth and claws, and gushed down, deafening. More interesting watermelons, winter melons, cucumbers, square melons, tomatoes, vegetable leaves, etc. roll in with the flood. Sometimes even chickens, ducks, and geese are washed into the water before they can escape. I would often catch some fruits and vegetables by the river with my father, and harvest them with peace of mind.
Two or three days after the heavy rain, the water level dropped and the river returned to calm. On a sunny afternoon, the river was filled with the laughter of our friends taking a bath and having a water fight.
In the woods by the river, I often use small branches to pull the soil and look for small round holes in the ground. Once I find them, the small holes will be enlarged little by little. "Cicada" We would be caught red-handed, and we would gain a lot every time. After returning home, sometimes we would fry the cicada and eat it, and sometimes we would put it on the screen window to watch the process of it molting out of its shell and turning into a winged cicada. , an essay about cicadas was written after observation. It was very vivid and was used as a model essay by the teacher.
In the woods by the river in the afternoon, the sound of cicadas is constant. Using bamboo poles to "stick" cicadas is also my favorite. The sticky material is formed by putting wheat grains in your mouth and chewing them. He reached the end of the bamboo pole, aimed at the cicada's wings, and struck out quickly. The cicadas screamed, fluttered, and were stuck, and were caught in a cloth bag.
At that time, mulberry trees grew into forests by the river, and you could pick them at will. The purple mulberry trees were ripe and sweet. When they have little beards, sometimes when they are still young, we pick and eat them, which makes our teeth sore.
When I was in fourth grade, I became obsessed with fishing. I found a fixed section of water in my hometown river and often fished on Sundays. I dug earthworms to make bait, hung them on the hooks, and watched the rise and fall of the fish float. , I seized the opportunity and flicked it, and the lively fish were picked up by me obediently and fell into my bucket. The mood was extremely satisfying.
One of the most unforgettable things is the "adventure" of fishing in the river when I was nine years old. The river in my hometown was pumped and watered to the bottom, and I saw my friends finding duck eggs and river fish in the mud. At this time, my eyes were also red, so I bravely and cautiously stepped into the bottom of the river and touched around in the mud with my hands. Suddenly, I touched a fish and picked it up happily to see, Oh my God! It turned out to be a big toad, with a lumpy appearance. It was extremely scary. I threw it into the river with a cry of "Ouch" and quickly ran away to the river bank. When I got home and talked about it, my family all laughed so hard...< /p>
Autumn fun is mainly staged in village streets and mountains.
Autumn is the harvest season. Corn, peanuts, sweet potatoes and other fruits are usually placed in the yard after being picked and transported home. Corn stalks, peanut vines, etc. will be placed in piles in front of and behind village houses. In particular, pieces of corn stalks are a great place to play. On Sunday, we would go to the street together and play hide and seek. They were divided into two groups, one group was arresting people openly, and the other group was hiding and trying to escape back to their "hometown". "Hometown" is a designated place, usually in front of the gate of a certain house. A circle is drawn with a stone as the "hometown". We would each run away quickly, each looking for a place where we thought we could be invisible. Corn stalks are the best hiding places. Some friends hid in them, but they were exposed because they failed to cover up or were amused by the weird noises made by the other party's friends, and were caught. Some friends may see that the other party has discovered them, so they reveal themselves and flee quickly. I was often chased around. Due to my fast speed, few friends could catch up with me. I often won by hiding cleverly and unexpectedly rushing into my "hometown" to win. In addition to doing hide and seek, we also get together to play various games, such as square jumping, shuttlecock kicking, shuttlecock playing, rubber band jumping, throwing away, playing cards, picking up five pieces, beating iron eggs, dividing land, pushing legs, etc., we play every time You have to be in full swing and don’t go home until dark.
One of the fun things about autumn is picking fruits in the fields and orchards. At that time, there were still collective production teams, and corn, peanuts, apples, etc. were harvested and distributed collectively. During the harvesting process, there will always be fruit falling into the ground or on the fruit trees. After the collective harvest is finished, my sisters and I can openly carry the basket, take the three-pronged pick and bamboo pole, go to the field to dig the ground to pick up peanuts and sweet potatoes, and go to the orchard to look for fallen apples. I remember that at that time, there were mainly various apple trees on the mountain, such as Dajinshuai, Xiaoguoguang, green banana, red banana, etc. Every time I went to pick up fruits, I would get a lot of harvest, and there would be more fruits at home.
In late autumn, it is also a pleasure to pick pine baskets from the pines and cypresses in Beishan. At that time, stoves were lit in school classrooms to keep warm, and students had to hand in pine baskets to the school for fire starters. We would hang out together in the pine forest, talking, laughing, making fun, picking, and going down the mountain loaded with harvest.
The beautiful things in winter can only be enjoyed after the snow. The winters in the 1970s were extremely cold, not like the warm winters now. At that time, the wind was biting, the sky was freezing, and ice hung from the eaves. Every year, my hands and feet would become red and swollen from the cold. Even so, good things also follow. The most interesting thing is the "Taiwan sparrow" after the snow. After it snows, my father and I will sweep out the snow in the middle of the yard, make space, put a round iron stopper on one side, and support it with a wooden stick on the other side, and tie a long wooden stick on it. The rope is led all the way to the door, and then food is sprinkled under the iron stopper, so that house birds can be attracted to come to feed. When the house sparrows were eating grain under the iron stopper, my father and I, who were hiding in the house, would quickly pull down the wooden sticks, and the iron stopper would trap the house sparrows that had no time to escape. This is my favorite thing to do. Sometimes I can trap a few birds. Sometimes when the stick falls, the house sparrows fly away so nimbly that I can't trap even one. My father would roast the trapped house sparrow on the stove for me to eat.
The best thing about snow days is listening to dad tell hunting stories. Snow is a perfect opportunity to hunt wild animals. As soon as it snows, my father will get up at dawn, prepare a bag of food and water, tie up bandages, carry a shotgun and hunting dogs, and go into the mountains early to tease the bushes with wooden sticks. He carefully lined up the weeds and looked for the toe tracks left on the snow by the hare that was out foraging for food. He approached the hare little by little and shot the hare back to his "home". In my memory, hares, pheasants, wild dogs, badgers and pigs all became the prey of my father’s gun. Except for a few cases, nothing was caught, but most of them were hit, sometimes more than one. I like to listen to my father telling hunting stories the most. Every time I come home from hunting, especially when the harvest is full, my father will talk about the interesting process of his hunting with a smile: how cunning the hares on the ground are to escape and hide in the trees. How the flying birds flew away quickly, under what circumstances the prey was quickly shot with a gun, under what circumstances the prey escaped from under the feet or in front of the eyes, how the injured hare fought with the hunting dogs, barked like crazy and was subdued by the hunting dogs... …My mother and I listened with relish, following my father’s movements. During his emotional narration, we sometimes widened our eyes, sometimes clapped our hands and applauded, sometimes shook our heads in regret, sometimes frowned and sighed, sometimes laughed heartily...< /p>
Every time after the snow, the prey will be turned into a pot of hot rabbit meat dumplings under the skillful hands of mother for us to have a full meal and enjoy the rare delicious food...
In childhood Spring, summer, autumn, and winter are songs of flowing years. On watchtowers, on the banks of the village river, in the fields, on the streets, and in the snow, the traces of my childhood joy are everywhere. The rich life in the fields, pleasant riverside stories, colorful entertainment and games, abundant field harvests, fragrant game dumplings, and my father’s hunting anecdotes...are all unforgettable memories in my heart. Thinking about it, we were much happier than the children today. In addition to studying, we just played as much as we could. Unlike today's children, who are surrounded by various specialized studies, lack of close contact with nature, and lose the colorful scenery. Childhood fun.
Whenever I talk about childhood memories, I am especially grateful to my parents, because they made my childhood carefree, happy, embracing happiness, and singing all the way!