Appreciation of homesickness prose

Appreciation of homesickness prose 1 Time lingers, helpless. It's not just time that is helpless?

The distance will be blocked, but it will not disappear. The gap between the north and the south caught me off guard, so that I would feel happy if I ate a bowl of noodles. I don't know what I missed. Is it the small garden in front of the door? Is it a cat stretching in the sun on the balcony? Are they persimmons and dates full of trees? Is that an untidy asphalt road? Is it a pile of firewood next to it? Is that a deciduous tree in autumn? Yes, I miss them.

Missed more than met. I'll never see her again. That spring: everything revived, and the grass poked its head out of the soil playfully; All kinds of flowers rush to bloom, as if to attend a spring rally; It is worth mentioning that fresh rape flowers are in the Yellow Sea, and the fragrance is still unique; I don't know why there are always so many crooked trees by the river. Maybe I was oppressed by my children when I was a child. In the distance, several children who had just finished school climbed the crooked-neck willow tree effortlessly, broke off a willow branch, twisted it a little twice, pulled out the core wood inside and turned it into a flute that could be played. They danced happily and disappeared into the dusk. Na Qiu: Fruitful. In a family with many sisters, children usually get together and wait for grandpa to cut the moon cakes, and then each takes the one that he thinks is bigger. Holding the moon cake in a dry hand and sucking it into your mouth with your teeth, I believe this is the happiest expression in the world. Autumn is so easy to satisfy. Dig a simple stove in the Woods. Some of my friends take sweet potatoes, some fiddle with stoves, and some collect firewood. Under such division of labor and cooperation, the black-roasted sweet potato leaves the factory. Although I painted black makeup on my face and hands, I still laughed and enjoyed it.

I can't help feeling sorry. I think I won't give up if I meet more people, do more things, walk more roads and see more clouds. What I think is extremely meaningful is not discovered until I arrive. Kundera said: "There are so many things in life that seem as light as a feather, but in fact they are unbearable." I thought I would give up that person, that road, that cloud, but I didn't.

I just ... miss home.

Appreciating the homesickness prose, I returned to my hometown in the countryside with my wife and children from my small town. In fact, there are only a few old houses left, and all relatives have moved to Xinjiang. On weekdays, I talked to my son about my childhood. My son looked forward to it and looked jealous. Now I have time. My son is ten years old. I should really understand my childhood. I took the bus and bumped all the way home.

The village where I was born is called Trolley Ridge, with a flat top and mountains on three sides. If you want to go to our village, you must climb the mountain. The path that is not enough is the road, and the heavy carriage needs manpower to help carry it up the mountain. I suspect that it is not easy to lift a car, so it is also a psychological comfort for the old people to write it as a trolley.

Although the long summer is coming, we have just seen the footsteps of spring here. Only a few small flowers are dotted in the hay, showing hope in the desolation.

"Dad, what is this tree? Dad-"

My son climbed the small cliff on the side of the road and pointed to a thorn to call me.

"Come down, it's dangerous over there!"

The wife let out a cry and staggered over to protect her. High-heeled shoes are not in the ruins, and they look sad.

Hehe, do you want to climb the mountain in high heels? Dream on.

"Hey, save it, I'll go and have a look."

After helping her put on her shoes, my son and I climbed up. She screams from time to time to remind me of my son's safety.

"Dad, what are you talking about?"

"You just mean, don't you? But it hasn't blossomed yet. "

My son looks lost, so continue his exploration.

Every hair is a kind of Vitex negundo, golden, crisp and sweet! Around June 1st, it was everywhere! At this time, Shan Ye is our paradise. Pig's head, chicken's feet, dog's feet, horse's nipple, goat's milk's head, old man's eyes … Hehe, these are not real meat, but plants that grow in the wild. Small garlic, similar to garlic, peeled, green leaves and white roots, crystal clear. Sheep beard, full of forest, extremely spicy. When you take it home and oil it, the whole room smells of fragrance. ...

Walk slowly up the narrow path and turn the ridge, and you will see the village. There are broken walls everywhere, but the familiar enthusiasm has come. Everyone has nostalgia, and everything here appears in dreams all the time. Walking slowly on this old road along the mountain, it seems that you are wandering in the long river of life, and everything is clear, just like yesterday.

"Hurry up, I have to dig the bird's nest in my old house!"

My son walked out of a distance and saw my slowness, urging impatiently. Hehe, my son has never found the bird's nest, and few sparrows have seen it! Naive and stubborn, I often farted with my brother when I was a child.

"Well-"

Answer your son's voice, and you can hear it far away.

When I was a child, I dug a bird's nest with my brother, broke my arm and hung it with cloth for more than half a month! I remember when I was young, there were many birds in my hometown, such as magpies, turtledoves, eagles, and Western jackdaw in the west ... Sparrows were the most abundant, which could fill the courtyard wall. In spring, we often nest with wicker under the eaves. When I was young, I had nothing to play with, and I didn't know the pain of hurting my life, so I often secretly took out birds to play with. The big bird hovered anxiously, sometimes swooped down in despair and chattered endlessly. Now you can feel the anger and helplessness of the big bird at that time. We didn't care at that time. A nest of three or four, some just hatched, a mass of red meat, eyes almost like fish eyes, playing with stones is too ugly, and the final result is naturally a mass of meat; Some are pure eggs that are not hatched, rotten, yellow and white, and young birds that have just formed; It is best to leave the nest at once, with a yellow mouth and fluffy feathers, like a fluffy ball! In any case, the final outcome is the same. Chicken feathers, broken grass and dead birds are everywhere. When the old people saw it, they chased it. Mother filled the sadness of this place with tears. ...

"No, don't dig out the nest, just look! Dig out the bird's nest and I'll hit you! " I yelled back and scared my son to nod.

"Birds only look good when flying in the blue sky!" Touching my son's head, I said softly.

This is confession, son. Can you understand?

"Can't you just say it?"

My wife grabbed my son's hand and glared at me.

Nearby, my hometown, my hometown where I was born and raised!

The rhythm naturally accelerates, just like when I was a child, I missed the time to go home because of fun. I am anxious. When the sun goes down, only home is the warm destination, but my heart is afraid of my father's whip. This is how I feel now!

Hometown is warm, just like your mother's arms. No matter how far I walk, I want to take a nap in my mother's arms.

My hometown is magnificent, just like my father's eyes. No matter how well you do it, you should accept his serious criticism when you finish it.

Hometown! Give birth to me and raise my hometown! I'm back!

Appreciation of Hometown Prose 3 Every year I go back to my hometown house and stay there for a period of time, where all the daily necessities are intact. When I first came back, maybe no one came to clean it for a long time. The yard was covered with chrysanthemum, and when I opened the doors and windows, it smelled musty. After cleaning and dressing up, the yard is still so fresh and lovely. I like to live here quietly, reminiscing about the old sesame seeds and rotten millet, remembering the dreams tangled in my heart, pouring out countless memories and spilling my thoughts everywhere.

The house in my hometown is full of countless homesickness, which is my own nest. That year, I implemented private saving, and I raised funds to complete my dream of housing, leaving me sad and tired, and a happy dream. After many years, I still can't bear to sell this house. I have a reluctant love here.

I like the tranquility of mountain roads and the comfort of mountain villages at night. After living for a long time, breathing the fresh air here is a pleasure. I really like it here. Childhood dreams, teenagers' longing, the charm of the lotus pond and Liuxia, and the hometown that never leaves, have recorded many stories. The ethereal and quiet hometown makes me want to stay.

A few crows, a few dogs barking, and a few nagging with my old mother floated in the night sky of the mountain village. The dim light and shadow, swaying in the tired mountain village, gradually fell asleep. I like this night, the quiet mountain village, the peaceful atmosphere, which is the most beautiful gift from nature to the mountain village. I am fascinated by the empty mountains and birds singing, the bright eyes and understanding, the bright moon and clear springs bathing the soul, and the natural and harmonious hometown.

The distant mountains are foggy, the moonlight is hazy, the alleys are quiet, the streets are drunk, and the multi-tone night rhyme is hazy, like a shy girl, with attractive veils on the cage. I am fascinated by the moonlit night in my hometown, the soft moonlight and the flowing water, strolling by the unique stream, silently savoring the beauty of the night in the mountain village, which is endowed by nature with a wonderful moonlit night and a mysterious hometown.

The beauty of quiet pine forests, the charm of playful streams, laughing mountain villages and hardworking villagers inspire my wisdom and care for my growth. The small mountain village in my hometown is my homesickness.

Scenery of mountains and rivers, warm and attractive atmosphere, natural and peaceful mountain villages and hardworking and kind neighbors have nurtured my life and infected my soul. My hometown mountain village is my favorite in my heart.

I like Tao Yuanming's poem "Picking chrysanthemums under the hedge, leisurely seeing Nanshan". In that beautiful evening scenery, the birds flew back to the mountains together, and all the freehand brushwork made me feel infinite. When I don't bend over for five buckets of rice, I will choose a small mountain village to accompany my hometown and enjoy the rural life here.

Appreciation of Nostalgia Prose 4 Hometown, a warm word, everyone has a small story of his hometown in his memory, and these story pictures are played in his mind like micro-movies from time to time.

I once talked with a friend about the fire bucket used to keep warm in my hometown in winter. Many people have never heard of it, have they? Hehe, this is our unique invention. My hometown is located in the mountainous area of western Hunan. Because of the cold winter in mountainous areas and many trees, it is more convenient to burn charcoal, so every household likes to make a fire with charcoal, so a wooden fire bucket was born.

A large rectangular wooden box, separated by wooden fences, with a brazier burning charcoal underneath. It's very comfortable to sit inside, with a quilt to keep out the wind and heating around the fire bucket. The family sat around the edge of the fire bucket, put their feet in the fire bucket to keep warm, then ate melon seeds, watched TV, chatted and played poker. Really happy, that warm scene I will never forget. If there are few people, you can simply sleep in the fire bucket. By the way, you can also bury sweet potatoes, potatoes, peanuts and chestnuts in the hot ash of charcoal and simmer them. Delicious, sweeter than delicacies. My second sister likes to doze off in the fire bucket. She must lie down and have a comfortable sleep before going to bed. She won't go to bed until it's completely cooked. Anyone who wakes her up will be scolded, hee hee.

Dad loves me very much. In order to facilitate my homework, I made a movable board and put it on the fire bucket, so that I could move a small bench and sit in it to do my homework, and I was warm all over. Sometimes I put the book cover outside the novel and secretly read it. Once I was fascinated, but my father caught me red-handed. I was so angry that he immediately threw the book into the yard. I was too scared to lift my head. I was lucky, my mother protected me, and I lost a beating. The fire bucket is dark red. Dad bought paint in his spare time, brushed it carefully and looked radiant. After that, the light of paint has been lingering in my dream, which makes me feel worried, but the warm fire has been illuminating my heart.

Last month, I spent the New Year at my home in the mountains. When there is no car, it takes two hours to walk the rugged mountain road to reach the menstrual home. Tired of walking, I sat on the stone by the roadside and rested, watching the scenery by the roadside. An original ecological forest is lush and endless, and sometimes rabbits and pheasants run in the grass. It's fat and cute. Hare has great courage to stay not far away and look back curiously at us uninvited guests. When you are thirsty, you don't need to bring your own mineral water. There are clear mountain springs on this mountain to quench your thirst. There are wooden spoons put by hospitable villagers by the well, which can be used to drink water. In summer, cool and sweet well water is drunk into your stomach, not to mention how cool it is. The whole person is full of energy and exhausted.

From time to time, mountain people carry local products out of the mountains. They went to the market outside the town to sell money to buy some daily necessities. They are used to taking mountain roads. They never feel tired and have no rest. They walk as fast as flying and have to go home to do farm work before dark. There are also shepherds leading cows to eat grass, cows are eating grass happily, and shepherds are playing beside them. Having had enough rest, we walked on and finally saw the big pine tree at the entrance of the village. Every time I pass this pine tree, my mother tells me to bow three times. She said that Father Pine would bless me to live a long life.

The house for menstruation is made of fir trees on the mountain. * * * has two floors, warm in winter and cool in summer. The boards of the whole building are coated with tung oil. My uncle said tung oil can prevent moisture and insects, so it should be painted again every few years. After weathering, the house has a bronze color. The attic upstairs is very airy, and my uncle keeps a nest of bees there. Speaking of my uncle, he is really capable. He is a cadre of the brigade. He can read and write, keep bees, and make rice sugar and maltose. White glutinous rice candy and yellow maltose, which I loved when I was a child, can be pulled for a long time, shiny and chewy. My uncle also grows peanuts, purple potatoes and chestnuts. Those purple potatoes are sweet and pink.

Once we went to pick chestnuts, and the tall chestnut tree was covered with open chestnuts. Chestnuts are covered with prickly shells. When I hit it with a stick, the chestnut fell. I didn't pick it. I picked it directly by hand. Who knew that the shell pierced my hand? Ouch, it hurts. My tears are coming out. Cousins laughed at me. They gave me a special clamp to hold chestnuts, so that I wouldn't stab my hand. Menstrual family has a big chestnut. Except for some for myself, the rest are sold in the market.

We went home with a basket full of trophies, threw chestnuts, peanuts and sweet potatoes into the fire pit and buried them in ashes. Chestnuts with shells made a loud explosion and crackled like firecrackers. The fire pit of menstruation is different from our fire bucket. They dug a square hole directly in the ground, burned wood to make a fire, and there was a lot of wood in the mountains. Everyone ate delicious chestnuts, sweet potatoes, peanuts, and sometimes roast chicken eggs and potatoes around the fire pit, not to mention how happy they were.

During the Chinese New Year, I hung the bacon and pork killed by my family on the fire pit in the kitchen, cut it into pieces of five or six pounds, and smeared it with salt. After air drying, it was hung on a fire pit with iron wire and smoked with orange peel, tea shell and sawdust for more than ten days. After baking, it is oily and yellow, and the fragrant local bacon is ready, which can be stored for several months without deterioration.

A few days before the Chinese New Year, every household should mash glutinous rice, put it in a pot and steam it with a big wooden drawer, then carry it into a stone mortar and beat it with a big wooden stick. Even if several strong men take turns to go into battle, it is also a laborious job. In the cold winter, everyone took turns to go into battle with bare arms, shouting songs, hey! Hey yo! The whole body is steaming, and the scene is really the most beautiful photo, showing the strength and beauty of a man. Unfortunately, there was no current condition at that time, so it was impossible to record with a camera. It usually takes one day to make Ciba. When the bus was ready, the women cooked the meal. Men drink and eat meat around the table and talk happily about the harvest of the year. Women and children are happy to put on new clothes and set off firecrackers.

The freshly baked rice cake is hot and can be eaten directly. Delicious and waxy. After hardening, it can be stored in a water tank for a long time as long as the water is changed frequently. I also want to make a rice cake the size of a millstone and hang it on the wall with a rope, which means to celebrate the harvest. When eating, just cut a piece with a knife and cook it. Of course, there are many ways to eat Ciba, which can be barbecued, fried, cooked with cabbage lard, sprinkled with white sugar, or wrapped in moldy tofu, sauerkraut and radish. No matter how you eat it, it is very popular with everyone, so the custom of making rice cakes in the New Year has been preserved.

When my cousin got married, I also went. They got married according to local customs. I remember that it snowed heavily that year, and my cousin and new sister-in-law accompanied me to the market to buy daily necessities. It was snowing heavily and the forest was white. Pieces of white snow as thick as cotton wool make us unable to bear to leave footprints. It snowed heavily, and the branches of pine trees were covered with snowflakes. It's beautiful. Have you ever seen rime? It's stunning. Although there is no camera, I can't leave the most beautiful photos, but the most beautiful pictures make me unforgettable. We three were so childish that we had a snowball fight. When you are tired of playing, you lie on the snow, as if the sky is a quilt and the snow is soft Simmons.

The intense white light made my eyes narrow. It was really enjoyable. While I was enjoying it, a layer of snow suddenly fell from the tree and landed on my forehead and neck. It was cold. When I opened my eyes, it turned out that my naughty cousin had shaken off the snowflakes on the branches. People who are getting married are still so naughty. I said I'll go back and tell menstruation. Cousin smiled and said, "Good sister, if you don't complain, I will help you buy new clothes when I go back to the market. How about it? " I said angrily, I will let you go today. When I arrived at the market, it was really lively. This is my first visit to the market in this town. All the people who buy and sell things are rural people, and everyone bargains and is in full swing. The market is not big, just a street, with food, clothes and use on both sides, all kinds of things, and the prices are also cheap. My cousin didn't break his word and bought me a new dress and a pair of rain boots because my shoes were wet with snow. After visiting the market, I bought what I should buy and went home, laughing, beating and cursing all the way.

The next day is a good day to get married. The wedding team and I walked a long mountain road to the bride's house, which was also built with wooden houses. After breakfast, the long queue set off, because we had to meet the bride before noon, and everyone hurried on, for fear of missing the good opportunity to meet the bride. In the sound of firecrackers, the team passed through the well at the entrance of the village and returned to the village where menstruation occurred. Two persimmon trees were planted by the well. These two persimmon trees are always covered with big and sweet persimmons, which makes people greedy.

The bride and groom took a red silk tied with a knot and went to the principal room to pay homage to the two old people. This is my first time to watch a Chinese wedding. Both the bride and groom wear cheongsam. I saw the groom wearing a hat and the bride wearing a red handkerchief. I returned to the Qing Dynasty in a trance. Amid the cheers of the crowd, the host began to hold a ceremony, kowtowing three times, worshipping heaven and earth, parents and husband and wife. Both sides were honored.

We crowded the bride back into the bridal chamber. The groom was all smiles and the bride was shy and moving. The new house was decorated in a festive way. The walls and wardrobes are covered with red happy characters, and the walls and the ground are covered with new plastic sheets, which are colorful and beautiful. Double beds are neatly stacked with dowry quilts, and more than a dozen beds are neatly placed with red, green and flowers. Hand-embroidered quilt cover is embroidered with dragon and phoenix patterns, which means a hundred years of harmony. It is a folk custom to spread red dates and peanuts in the middle of the bed, which means to have a baby early. The sister-in-law who made the bed is a harmonious family and has given birth to several children. The bride sat on the bed quietly waiting for the groom, who went to propose a toast. When the groom comes back, everyone will have a wedding. Adults are noisy and children are clamoring for candy, which really deafenes their ears. The small house was crowded with people watching. The wedding is just a noise, the noisier the better, there is no way, the bride can't be angry. As the saying goes, after three days of marriage, adults and children can play jokes on the bride, regardless of size.

After the wedding, I went home with chestnuts, bacon and Ciba that I had received during my period. I remember climbing a mountain road with a heavy back for two hours. When I got home by car, I sat on the ground crying. My mother looked at me with distress: "you silly girl, you can't stand so much suffering." How can I get married in the future? " Then I smiled through tears. Hey hey, is it just coquetry?

Childhood stories are endless, and the bits and pieces of hometown have already merged into a trickle, which often flows in dreams and never ends.

Appreciation of Nostalgic Prose 5 Jingyue hangs in the sky, and the dissolved moonlight makes me relaxed and happy. Looking at the deep blue sky, I was lost in thought. Throughout the ages, many people dream of the moon and sing about it.

The foot of my bed is shining so brightly. Is there frost already?

I looked up at the moon and looked down, feeling nostalgic.

In the dead of night, I woke up suddenly, looking at the bright moon, and my lingering homesickness came into being. Li Bai's Thoughts on a Quiet Night, with only 20 words, has touched the homesickness of many strangers.

"People have joys and sorrows, and the moon is full of rain or shine. This matter is old and difficult. May people live for a long time and send you thousands of miles. "

Su Dongpo compared his sad feelings of joys and sorrows with the full moon, hoping to enjoy the bright moon with his distant relatives, thus arousing people's emotions.

Looking at the bright moon, I wander and dream, and the wings of fantasy fly and fly ... Suddenly, a star flashes starlight, which brings me back to reality from my dream.

The earth is like a huge rice paper, and the moonlight penetrates the branches and leaves, leaving mottled shadows on the rice paper. ...

……

Appreciation of Nostalgia Prose 6 The hometown mentioned here is not only the hometown of hometown, but also the hometown of countryside.

For those of us who are used to city life, when we talk about the countryside, we see blue sky, white clouds, cattle and sheep, fields, winding rivers and simple smiling faces.

This country gives me a strange and cordial feeling. Growing up in the city, I followed my mother back to my hometown several times when I was a child. The countryside I remember is the smoke from kitchen chimneys, the open fields, the crowing of chickens in the morning and the bleating of sheep in the evening. I still remember going to my grandmother's house when I was a child. The traffic was inconvenient at that time. My mother and I took a day's train ride, and then took a three-hour bus ride to my aunt's house. Aunt's house is a transit point for grandma's house. We need to stay at my aunt's house for one night before we can go to grandma's. In winter, the countryside was silent for a long time. We can't see our fingers when we get off the bus. We heard dogs barking from several families in the distance, and there was a faint light in the earthen house on the roadside. When uncle took us home, the children were already asleep. My mother and aunt talked in a low voice under the dim kerosene lamp, and I was so sleepy that I couldn't open my eyes.

The next morning, I was awakened by the sound of my aunt's bellows. At this time, the smell of firewood and millet porridge has filled the whole room. After breakfast, my uncle pulled my mother and me in the direction of grandma's house with a mule cart.

At the end of the year, children in the village chased some sporadic firecrackers, and there were firecrackers from time to time. There is a thick layer of ice near the wellhead on the edge of the village. Several children were holding small whips made of cloth and smoking gyroscopes. Two children were skating on the ice car. White smoke billowed from the chimney on the roof of the village. The villagers are frying dough twists, wrapping jiaozi, pressing vermicelli and steaming steamed bread, which is a busy scene.

When we leave the village, we have to cross a big river, which has been frozen. My uncle wrapped the mule's four hooves with cloth to prevent it from slipping, and covered me and my mother with a thick quilt. Then he began to sit in front of the mule car and drive. He waved his whip and slapped it on the mule. He also shouted "Hello ..." The tall mule snorted, and white mist was sprayed in his mouth. ......

In those winters, the weather is particularly cold. When I arrived at my grandmother's house, my little feet were numb with cold. I heard my mother say that I was frozen and cried, Dad, come and save me! Dad, come and help me! ... at this moment, a burly figure loomed in front of us. It turned out that the master had come to pick us up. The host wore a fat fur coat and a thick fur hat, and walked behind my back to the village entrance. I suddenly felt a lot warmer.

Grandma keeps many domestic animals, including a big black dog, Xiaohua Mall, a big fat pig, a horse with flowing reddish-brown mane, a flock of sheep and some chickens that lay eggs. These are all new to me. Matthew's horse, Matthew, is so big that I flinch. This is my uncle's exclusive. It is my uncle's operation to feed horses with water. I only dare to watch from a distance. Big fat pigs are kept in pigsty and can only be seen through pigsty; Xiaohua Mall ran so fast that as soon as she touched her soft hair, she jumped onto the roof. What impressed me most was the big black dog. I often chew the twist from the cat hole in the hall window to feed it, and it puts two dog hooves on the windowsill, waiting for my gift. Mom is still wondering why she brought me a plate of twist, which will be gone soon. It's all in the dog's stomach, haha. This big black dog and I have the best feelings. Whenever someone in the village visits, I take them to see the dog. I put my hand over the big black dog's eyes and didn't let go until someone came into the room. The big black dog thought I was joking with him. Many years later, I went to high school and went back to my grandmother's house. She still remembered me and wagged her tail with me in the middle of the yard!

Rural areas in northern winter have a special taste, which is a mixed taste of soil, wheat straw and cow dung. There is a warm smell in the countryside in winter in the north, that is, the smell of smoke in the morning and the smell of cattle and sheep in the evening; There are always thrilling scenes in the rural areas in winter in the north. It is a thrilling scene in which villagers stand on the snow-covered and bare wellhead with cowhide barrels and struggle to carry water with two hands.

I still remember grandma sitting on the kang, leaning against a small square table, holding an insole under a kerosene lamp; I still remember grandpa feeding soybeans to the newborn lamb in the middle of the night; I still remember my uncle stirring the back of hot pig food in the pot; There are bright flames in the yard at the end of the year, and tears in my eyes when my mother took me away from home ... Now, living conditions have improved, transportation is convenient, and lights and telephones are connected. When you miss them, you can hear the voices of your loved ones by making a phone call, or you can come to your loved ones by bus for half a day. But the years when I went back to my hometown, the simple and kind faces in my hometown, and the cold and warm pictures in my hometown in winter were deeply left in my mind.

Living in Beijing for a long time, I often look at the people passing by and think about a question, where is my hometown?

In the history class, the teacher talked about the rise and fall of various dynasties. I always feel inexplicably cordial to the Western Zhou Dynasty, the Qin Dynasty and the Tang Dynasty. My hometown is next to Maoling, and I have been to places of interest in Xi several times. Shaanxi was the capital of many dynasties. I am proud of the long history of my hometown Shaanxi, and I am proud that I was born in Shaanxi. It is said that when New China chose the capital, Xi 'an lost by only one vote. I always felt sorry when I was a child.

After studying in Shaanxi for several years, I moved to Beijing. Beijing, a bustling city, is very different from where I used to live. Crowds, busy people and tall buildings make me feel strange and uneasy. I gradually became familiar with the life here and gradually integrated into it. I have lived in Beijing for nine years now, and I have forgotten my childhood streets and friends. I am more used to living in this land of Beijing and will never go back to my hometown. Now, I regard Beijing as my hometown. In Beijing, I know how to take the bus, how to transfer to the subway, where to visit bookstores and where to shop. In Beijing, I have friends and family. When you meet foreigners who come to Beijing, you can also show others the way. However, I know nothing about Xi 'an now. I can only come to Xi 'an like other tourists. I need a map, a taxi and others to show me the way. Xi is just a strange city to me. It is no longer my familiar hometown, and there is no one I know.

However, I never realized that I was from Beijing. When people talk about the customs of old Beijing and the pride of Beijingers living under the imperial city, I always think back to the old city walls and streets in Xi 'an, which are mixed with the smell of lampblack and food. I am not familiar with the traditional culture of Beijing, and I am not used to walking in hutongs. I still have some living habits in Shaanxi. I like to eat snacks and delicious food in Shaanxi, and sometimes I speak with a Shaanxi accent unconsciously.

Where the hell is my hometown? I have my own life in Xi and Beijing. In the social practice of the second day of junior high school, I returned to Xi 'an, Shaanxi. During my few days in Xi 'an, I felt the familiar railway station, the familiar Shaanxi dialect, the familiar places of interest and the familiar Shaanxi cuisine. I stood on the wall of Xi and looked at the strange street. I am both strange and familiar here. I seem to understand something. Xi 'an has always stayed in my life. I'm not familiar with modern neighborhoods, but the traditional culture that has been circulating here has always intrigued me.

Back in Beijing, I know that Xi is not far away from me, and its culture has always been with me. I am used to life in Beijing, and I love this land of Beijing, but Xi 'an has always been rooted in my heart, and my hometown will always be Xi 'an where I was born.