What does soil smell like?

When I was a child, I was pulling wheat in the farmland with my bare back and feet, and my back was covered in sweat. It was known as one of the four tiring jobs. The wheat was uprooted, and the frightened earthworms hurriedly crawled back into the soil from the wheat roots. At night, I dreamed of earthworms crawling randomly between the toes. Sometimes I would fall asleep in the ground at night, lying on the plucked wheat sheaves, which were soft and moist. The earth is the bed, and the wheat sheaves are the quilt. The wheat sheaf exuding the earthy fragrance is like a newly brought home bride, with your breath connected and skin-to-skin close to each other. Under the sky, the smell of harvest is filled; on the black soil of Heilongjiang, a truck full of Chinese cabbage got stuck in the mud of a field road. We pushed and pushed behind it, and suddenly started, and the mud was thrown out from the rear wheels, spraying All over your body, even your teeth. This is the smell of hard work; that day I managed to get a carriage from the factory and went to the coal preparation plant to haul coal slime, which is a waste material from the coal preparation plant and is also a good fuel for the locals to keep warm in the winter. Get up in the morning, take the coal slime ticket you asked for, eat more dry food, wear a torn cotton coat, rubber cotton boots, carry a big shovel, follow the carriage owner to the coal slime pond behind the coal preparation plant and queue up patiently. It was almost noon when it was our turn. Master Han and I were flying with our pickaxes and shovels, and soon a carriage was filled. The same rules as in pizza parlors nowadays, you can put salad and slime in whatever you want. The cart is full, but the people are hungry. Unfortunately, one of the wheels suddenly slipped into a hole in the ice. Although I was exhausted, I was always young, so I took the pickaxe from Master Han and used my strength to peel off the ice in front of the wheel. Unexpectedly, as soon as the pickaxe went down, the sharp pickaxe tip slid from the ice to the tire, making a squeaking sound, and the carriage tilted slowly. The next thing is to remove the slime and go back where it came from. The slime ticket is blind, and the car you want is in vain. The hands are black and the sweat on the face is salty. The fossilized mud from within the earth's crust teased me so intimately that I remember its bitter, teasing taste. There was a water shortage in the factory, and the worker Big Brother was working outside the factory to divert water. In a three-meter-deep trench several kilometers long, we worked with everyone to lay the water transmission project. The ground is covered with white snow, and the dug ditches are steaming from time to time, carrying the smell of fresh earth. We ate lunch in the ditch and told jokes while eating. If you are interested, you can check out the most obscene and filthy things. Needless to say, a loud fart will make people laugh or scold you. Or you can rest your head on the loess and take a nap. It’s icy and snowy above, so it’s a good place to take shelter from the wind. The air is filled with the atmosphere of labor, creation, and joy in suffering that is associated with the smell of earth. Spring has arrived as expected, so I went for a walk outside my hometown's small county and along the beach along the Juma River to watch the footsteps of spring. The sand suddenly became soft from the frozen state in winter. When a group of friends stepped on it, the freshness of the soil and the tender green of the grass buds were refreshing. The taste of life, with the breath of hope, breaks out of the shell. This is my memory of soil. Memories are profound, but not all of them romantic.