After the tide ebbs in Jinshan, shallow puddles and green meadows are everywhere on the beach. The water is in the south, the grass is in the north, and between the endless banks, I jump around looking for another world.
The grass is green, the sea is yellow and the sky is blue. Crabs running on the beach are so busy that they are excited at every ebb and flow. All the children, big and small, are waving huge pliers. Jumping around aimlessly with me is a common sight on this beach.
In puddles and grasslands, there are countless compatriots, and we enjoy the gift of nature. Jumping from one puddle to another, from one meadow to another, growing and maturing in this simple jump, from a jumping fish as thin as hair to a jumping fish as thick as a reed. So I can climb a wide reed leaf, feel the breeze sliding over the smooth body and feel the sunshine drying my wet body slowly. In the warmth of sunshine and sea breeze, I think slowly or fall asleep lazily.
All kinds of ships pass by from the distant horizon, and all kinds of cars pass by the seaside road, but these have nothing to do with our world. Crabs are busy cleaning or mending their holes. Although their homes will be destroyed when the next tide comes, I am deeply moved by their perseverance. As for the small jumping fish, their happiest game is swimming around in the puddle to make the sea water that has begun to clarify turbid again.
A group of human beings, old and young, rolled up their trouser legs and came from a distance. I quickly slipped off the reed leaves. After a piece of water rang, the bouncing fish had already disappeared, leaving only the muddy water in the puddle to turn up gently. The crab was in a hurry, too, and each looked for its hole and suddenly disappeared. There are only quiet puddles left on the beach. Humans use various simple tools or interception methods to find and prepare to capture us. This story has been circulating in our ethnic group for thousands of years and is still going on. It's just that human failure is almost doomed, because this is our world after all. From this point of view, jumping fish and jumping crab almost fall in love with this kind of hide-and-seek game, and human beings seem to enjoy it.
Just me. I observe and think everything under the grass by the water. My mind is infinite. Crabs often laugh at me as a lazy jumping fish, and people who jump around think I'm a little strange. Radicals even hope that I will be captured by humans next, which seems to ensure the purity of racial behavior.
I know I'm just a jumping fish. I can't be a free traveler like a sucker. I don't have the streamlined posture like a rainbow fish to show my gentlemanly elegance in the sea. My short fins are strong and only suitable for jumping around. There are only puddles or meadows on the beach where I jump, and there are all kinds of marine and human wastes brought by the tide.
I tried to climb up a reed pole that slanted out of the water. Reed branches sway gently, and slender reed leaves ripple on the water. A group of jumping fish stuck their heads out of the water bank and looked at me in the dark. They don't understand why the jumping fish climbed a tall reed. The crab that heard the news quietly poked its head out of the hole and stared out in surprise. So they told each other: Are there any fish in the tree? !
A little girl crept up with a bucket in her left hand and a shovel in her right. She suddenly found me in the tree, opened her mouth in surprise, stopped, turned and waved to the man coming from afar, and hurriedly shouted:
Dad, dad, is there a fish in the tree? !