The bluestone tablets in my hometown
When I was young, I wanted to leave my hometown and see the world outside my hometown. Now, I always think of my hometown, my childhood and the people in my hometown. Yellowing memory, mottled former residence, the old days of wandering light and shadow, vaguely emerge on the bluestone board in spring.
It was foggy that day, and I was inexplicably sad when I set foot on my homeland. My dearest person is buried in my hometown. I went back this time just to see her.
I started from Hankou Railway Station. As soon as I stepped onto the platform, my tears flashed. I remember they passed through here, too. I am as strong as a fly, catching up with time and catching the train. By this time, their hurried footsteps had passed for a long time. My favorite person will never appear here again, and my tears are dancing.
The one in my hometown hurts me. The one in my hometown is my mother, and I will never hear her say "Mom, I love you" again. The one in my hometown will never follow my memory to recall someone in my hometown again. But I always miss her. We always do. You don't know how to cherish until you lose it
The fog was very thick, and occasionally a taxi passed by, and the street lights were dim, and the ground was wet that day. This weather was not suitable for running, but I ran across the streets of Qianjiang. I use this way to find memories and remember my mother.
The old classmate said that there is only half of Qingshi Road leading to the school. From Minzhu Road to Hongjun Road, there is no way to jump home. At 5: 30 that morning, it was dark and I was running on the bluestone board. The past is like the wind.
When I was studying, I wore a ponytail and jumped with it, dressed up as a youthful dream, a youthful dream, and the place where the dream started. Every dream was gorgeous, and the beginning and end were as bright as stars. Some boys and I tried to walk faster. I was in front, my ponytail was thrown, and they followed. The result didn't surpass me. A boy didn't eat breakfast for a week.
With a flick of a finger, it seems that just yesterday, that person, that scene, the only bluestone in that hometown is in front of us. In the dream, no matter how far away, a hint can completely open the door to the lost time! At that time, we were young, simple and had no communication, but at that time, we were so kind. Many years later, I was so moved to laugh when I remembered the contest of that year.
My friends remember that I live in the outpatient department of Chinese medicine hospital, next to the clothing factory. In my memory, the garment factory caught fire and the fire spread. There are my playmates in the dormitory behind the garment factory, a pair of twins, nicknamed "Dafang" and "Xiao Fang", and "Liangliang" from Chinese medicine hospital. I called him "Brother Liang Liang" and the four of us played house together. In summer, we climb to the mulberry tree to pick mulberries and eat purple. The four of us looked at me in the tree, and I watched you giggle. My childhood ears were the most sensitive. I can distinguish my friends by pricking up my ears, I can recognize the crisp whistle that flies by, and I can also judge the footsteps coming from outside the door. My mother called me a wild horse, and she followed me and did not interfere with my children's freedom. "Wild horses, dust and creatures are blowing each other with great interest." I especially like this sentence when I read Zhuangzi's "Wandering Away". Think of the carefree and complacent student days like wild horses, and the past is vivid.
I ran home in the drizzle and listened to the radio "Muslim Funeral" on Jianshe Street. Once I jumped off a high slope on the west levee. We danced one after another, and I felt the exciting game with my eyes closed. I once piled up sleeves and rolled up my trouser legs by the river to catch tadpoles and put them in a transparent orange jar, hoping that they would grow long legs every day; In July, I was not afraid of the sun. I picked lotus flowers, got my skirt wet, and dried it in the sun for fear of being scolded by my mother. I used to count the stars on a bamboo bed under the starry sky and lean on my mother's arm. My mother shook the banana fan with the other hand, shook it, counted it, and dreamed of the Waipo Bridge. Once, I begged my grandfather to buy an old popsicle for 50 cents at my grandfather's house on Niuma Star, and I crunched it with endless aftertaste. After eating, I picked up a big broom and chased the red dragonfly. I don't know how many dragonflies I killed. Because I like her wings, I made many dragonfly specimens in the book. Remembering is a sin! There was also a period of literature and art, and Yu Meiren was sung by candlelight. "When is the moon in spring flowers? How much do we know about the past ... "This elegy of life, after the national subjugation, made us feel the sadness of life failure. How did we know at that time? This is just pure love; I once rolled on the lush grass of the Dongjing levee, smelling the fragrance of the land, and the Chinese milk vetch everywhere set off a smile; During the Spring Festival, Brother Liangliang and I crowded together to watch lanterns, which filled several streets of Jianshe Street and Dongfeng Road. I remember the shapes of the lanterns of "Lady Yu Ming", "Huaguoshan" and "Eight Immortals Crossing the Sea", which are really vivid!
At that time, we painted old houses with chalk and played hopscotch. Playing mohair with flowers, with flexible hands and fingers, only needs two people to play, but it is also a kind of fun; The most lively thing is throwing sandbags, which are filled with fine sand They can't be too full or too little, so they don't hurt people and have weight ... when the sun goes down, we sing and laugh. More often, we forget to eat, and we often hear our mother calling home and saying goodbye reluctantly.
At that time, my mother gave me a light green sweater with stars and needles on it. At that time, I had already loved beauty, and my mother, who couldn't know the stars, asked her friend's mother for advice. She is full of love.
My mother likes watching ancient paintings and operas. As one of the three major local operas in Hubei, the ancient painting opera has taken root in Qianjiang and planted in the hearts of Qianjiang people. We saw a family case in Qianjiang Theatre, standing on the flower wall, Qin Xianglian and civet cats exchanged princes ... From the clinic, we crossed the food market and came to Qianjiang Theatre.
Many memories will be dusty because of someone, a place, a deja vu scene, a story and an old photo in my hometown. The people and things in memory are blurred, the light and shadow in memory are dim, and our youth and frivolity in memory are gone. ...
I went back to my hometown and ran in the long river of time. My dear mother left me with a cold grave. The mother on the tombstone is smiling and looking at me with gentle eyes. I seem to hear the call of the wind, the falling rain, and my mother's whisper. Dear mother, you exist in the place where my eyesight is failing, and you are in every inch of sunshine and rain.
My lost friends have contacted me, and my mother will be very pleased to know that under the spring. Those friends remember my mother, my home, the green flag, the glory and shyness of our youth, and the stories in the photos. My good friend knitted a hair band with a little black card, which I cherish. I showed her the picture of the headband, and she was overjoyed. She forgot what we were like, and I will remember our mistakes, but that pure friendship still exists.
"I walked through Jiangnan, waiting for the emergence of the season, like a lotus, the east wind didn't come, and the catkins in March didn't fly. Your heart is like a lonely town, like a bluestone street ... "I suddenly realized that I didn't miss it, and I didn't miss anything along the way. Those beautiful hopes remain in the deepest memory of my hometown, and reunion after a long separation is an unforgettable happiness.