Autumn in hometown, poetic nostalgia

This National Day holiday, there is no travel and no distant places. But I have poetic nostalgia, colorful nostalgia and autumn harvest. I have no plans, no arrangements, no worries about traffic jams, no rush for food and accommodation.

I carry a simple camera, like a greedy old dog

, leisurely and leisurely walking in one village after another, wandering in one rural intersection after another. When you wake up in the morning, you can watch the crowing of chickens, the bleating of cattle and sheep, and the rising sun slowly rising from the mountains, pouring the golden sunshine into the valley. In the evening, I watched my brothers return home carrying golden corn cobs and colorful clouds. Huoshaoyun renders autumn like an oil painting, enriching the countryside and making the holy water lake beautiful. You are thick and I am thick, the lakes and mountains are beautiful, the sunset and the solitary swans are flying together, the autumn water is the same color as the sky.

Brothers said that this year’s autumn is spreading from a village called Taozi Bay. Look at the golden corn cobs, the fiery red pepper skewers, and the hill-like pumpkins stretching from one small courtyard to another. Small courtyard. The villagers raised their rakes, used their sweat to make ink, and used their courtyards to paint. Who painted red, orange, yellow, green, blue, and purple, and who practiced dancing in the air with colored paint? Only my hard-working fellow villagers write the most beautiful scenery of this autumn. The 80-year-old second aunt picked up baskets of soybeans, peanuts, and sesame seeds and looked carefully at the autumn courtyard. The wind blowing from the bamboo forest, carrying bursts of rich fragrance, caressed my body and mind happily and leisurely. A butterfly landed on my shoulder playfully, and flew away gently again. I stood in the cornfield after the autumn harvest, bathing in the cool autumn wind and the soft and warm setting sun.

The autumn wind in my hometown is gently blowing half of the lotus pond. Some lotus leaves are withered, and some are green and yellow. Of course, I have already smelled the smoke from my brother’s kitchen and the pork ribs are being stewed. Lotus root fragrance. Behind the old house are several acres of sloping land, stretching across the ridge. My parents worked hard here all year round, day after day, year after year, and harvested a meager hope. I remember how many autumns my father would urge me to go home and look at the golden corn cobs and the golden ears of rice. After hearing the news that I was returning home, my mother stood in the colorful courtyard and looked at me again and again. She was also worried that the fried chicken with green pepper would not be as fragrant as last year's chicken. Nowadays, the old house is still the same, the courtyard is old, the parents have been dead for many years, and the brother and sister-in-law are repeating the hopes of the past in this barren land.

The autumn wind is getting cooler, and my hometown is getting older. Walking in the countryside, there is nostalgic love, good harvest and sadness. I saw that many fields here were deserted. If they had not asked village cadres for poverty alleviation policies, and if there had not been another elderly person passing away in the village, many villagers would not have returned to their hometowns for several years. The village that used to be full of children, cows and sheep, and chickens and dogs jumping around gradually fell into silence. A sad tear slowly seeped out from the corner of my eye. An old cow in the eldest sister's house slowly gnawed the withered grass on the field ridge, as if all this loneliness and melancholy had nothing to do with it. It flapped its nose and swung its tail left and right, and leisurely spread its four hooves to look for another piece of land. A patch of withered grass blooming in autumn. This piece of dry grassland was once fertile soil for its cultivation, and it also carried the dreams and hopes of an old cow.

The autumn scenery is getting darker and the autumn wind is getting cooler. Groups of wild geese fly from far away places, crossing many mountains and ridges, chirping all the way and then flying to distant lands, spreading desolation and joy into the passionate maple forest. middle.

That maple forest like fire, in the afterglow of the setting sun, the prosperity gradually faded away and finally returned to tranquility...

The autumn wind tore open my long-lasting dust My memory is only of that autumn more than ten years ago, when the sky was blue, the clouds were white, and the autumn breeze was cool. My father and his neighbor, the godfather of the Feng family, were joking and talking about the autumn harvest. They hoeed down again and again, and piled up sweet potatoes like small hills in the sweet potato field. When my father was carrying loads of sweet potatoes tremblingly, I suddenly discovered that my father's bronze face was like the criss-crossed birch bark in the sunset, getting darker and deeper. In the lining, the shaking became more severe. When my mother was picking up sweet potatoes in the autumn wind, her coughs became louder and louder...

My mother was ill and left her father and the children who loved her deeply. , a few years later my father left the land of his hometown that he had been attached to all his life and went to a foreign country. Both parents were buried on a quiet hill in a corner of this land. The autumn wind came from the distant sky and blew the vastness of their parents' lives.

The maple leaves are turning red, and the autumn wind has cooled.

Every October on the day when the cold clothes are given away, I will return to my hometown and walk up this hill in the bleak autumn leaves to pay homage to my parents who have worked hard all their lives. I will kneel on my knees and look at the tombstones of my parents with moist eyes and full of reverence. , looking at the land that was pregnant with so much hope but desolate and lonely, fell into emptiness and let my thoughts fly in the autumn wilderness of my hometown.

Perceiving the autumn in your hometown will help you understand what it means to be open-minded and let go. What should go will eventually go, and what should come will eventually come. The prosperity has faded away and peace has finally come. Winter is over and spring is here again. More indifferent, less fame and fortune, more true feelings, less worldly. Walking in the mountains of our hometown, let the long mountain breeze blowing in the wilderness cleanse our vain souls, and let the beautiful autumn scenery of our hometown enrich our bodies and minds.