Countryside Taste (Part 2)

The air in the countryside is like a clear lake, pure and quiet. Even if the juice of green grass drips into it, it will turn green and reveal the fragrance of vegetation.

In the taste of the countryside, you can always imagine.

Spring in the north is dry and rainless. A gust of wind comes, filling the sky and the earth, and blowing the smell of sewage all over the streets.

After a rain, there is the bitterness of willow buds, the sweetness of elm money, and the fragrance of wild grasses, and each kind of grass has a different taste.

Well, the raindrops hit the dust, first there was a fishy smell, and then there was the sweet smell of rainwater.

Those jujube trees, neem trees, toon trees, acacia trees, acacia trees, sycamore trees, pear trees, as well as peaches, apricots, pears, and apples, from germination to flowering and bearing fruit, each period exudes its own fragrance. the taste.

On the street, there is the smell of decaying grass fertilizer, the sour and salty smell of steamed pickles, and the smell of fried corn, wheat, and beans. Children going to school carry fried beans in their pockets, which are crispy when chewed, and the classroom is filled with the smell of beans.

It smelled of cooking smoke and food. A pot of freshly steamed corn tortillas is filled with the aroma of steamed millet. And boiling a pot of sweet potatoes or carrots is a very sweet experience.

Who made Xinjia sauce? It is actually sour and fresh. Dip it with freshly dug chicory that has been soaked in water, then take a bite with the freshly baked corn tortillas. The sour, salty, and bitter aroma cannot be described in just one word.

Who is making pancakes and scrambled eggs? The scent of cottonseed oil can be smelled all over the street.

There must be a family drinking in the village, otherwise, you can smell the aroma of wine while walking on the street! I'm afraid the wine is also a sweet potato bar, popularly known as sweet potato roasting. Otherwise, why would it be so strong and the smell would spread to the street.

The smell of green onions and leeks sold on the street, the strange smell of coriander and chrysanthemum.

There is a small iron stove, a soldering pot, an aluminum pot, or the smoky, metallic, and bean aroma of popcorn.

It smells like the dye of printed cloth, and the smell of paint on the doors and windows of a newly married wife's house.

It has the smell of rubbing the waist of the grass with thatch or cottonwood bark before cutting the wheat.

It has the smell of a wheat field, of fishing out wheat bran, piling up wheat straw stacks, and using wheat straw rafters to thresh thatch on rainy days.

There is the smell of retting in puddles, and the fishy smell of fishing for fish and loaches in the river.

There is the smell of bathing in turbid pit water in summer, the smell of hot and humid sweat, and the smell of mold growing on clothes and quilts.

There is the smell of wheat straw fireworks lit under the willow tree at night, and the smell of sizzling cicadas falling into the fire and roasting.

The open space smells of sun-dried grass, of grain haystacks, corn straws, wheat straws, cotton firewood, sweet potato seedlings and peanut seedlings, and of granaries and cotton stacks.

There is the smell of hay in the barn, the smell of livestock chewing grass and dung.

I once went to school to make a fire and wrapped sparrows in yellow mud and burned them. There was no salt taste, and the taste was fragrant and bland.

It smells like you are just greedy and don’t know about kebabs, but in full view of your family, you use a wire to skewer raw meat and grill it next to the stove.

There was a postman riding a green motorcycle to deliver newspapers. We chased the motorcycle, leaving a pleasant smell of burned gasoline all over the street.

It smells like the New Year pictures and fruit candies from Mistress’s consignment shop.

There is the smell of digging manure pits to release fertilizer into the street, and the smell of 1605 and 3911 pesticides used for seed dressing during sowing. There are the smells of steam fertilizer, ammonia, sprayed "66" powder and the smells of dichlorvos, omethoate, deltamethrin, chlormequat, and dimethoate.

It smells of cut grass exposed in the sun.

There was a family celebrating the New Year, and a wicker basket was hung under the beam. I moved a stool up to enjoy the smell of cooked pig head meat.

There is the smell of wearing new clothes during the New Year, the smell of fried dumplings, jujubes, vegetarian dumplings, burning incense, lighting red candles, burning paper money, and a bit of firecrackers and fireworks.

I once went to Chencun to run lambs for ewes. The family that raised breeding sheep had a foul smell all over the street.

There was the smell of putridity from watching someone else’s funeral and the smell of alcohol from Zhike’s mouth full of spirits, which he kept spitting on the coffin.

There is the smell of pastries and foreign cloth at the supply and marketing cooperative store,

There is the smell of soap and cream on girls

...

Those tastes are always unforgettable and can be reproduced in the scene before my eyes.

Unfortunately, many smells are difficult to smell.

Is the air in the countryside turbid? Is your nose still dull?

Maybe a bit of both.

The past has become the past forever, we can only think about it and talk about it, nothing else.

The countryside is silent, day and night.

Its silence does not mean that there is no sound, but that every sound is heard so clearly and truly.

This kind of silence is more like a fine spider web that refuses to let go of the buzzing of every flying insect.

In spring, you can listen to the cracking of glaciers, light rain, and water dripping from the eaves; in summer, you can listen to the roar of wind, thunder and thunder, and the pounding of rain and hail; in autumn, you can listen to the chirping of insects and the falling leaves, and in winter, you can listen to the rustling of snowflakes. The sounds of nature are always in the countryside.

On a summer night, the sky is filled with stars. Listen carefully, who is sleeping on the roof of someone’s house, snoring and grinding his teeth? From whose house came the sound of a couple quarreling loudly and quietly.

The crowing of cocks and the barking of dogs at night makes people nervous: Could it be that they are attracting thieves? Listening again, there was no sound of footsteps, and after a while it was silent again.

The braying of donkeys, horses, and cows is all too familiar. Occasionally there is the bleating of sheep, the grunt of pigs, and the squeaking of mice. The most unpleasant thing to hear is the cry of a cat in heat, which is like a baby crying. Folks classify it as one of the four most unpleasant things to hear, namely: grinding saw blades, polishing pots, donkeys braying, and cats wandering away from their nests.

In the dead of night, night owls perch on high branches, meowing - meowing - cooing - which can make people's hair stand on end. People in the village often say that if you are not afraid of Goo Meow, you are afraid of Goo Meow's laughter. If Goo Meow laughs, someone will die. This scream shocked people so much that they couldn't sleep well in the middle of the night.

The water pump in the field seemed to be climbing a hill, and it kept making a laborious "boom boom boom" sound.

When some children fall asleep or are too tired to sleep, adults will scare them and say: Cover your head and go to sleep. Do you hear me, the old cat tiger is coming! If you listen carefully, there is silence inside and outside the house. You can hear a silver needle drop to the ground.

I also heard someone shouting: "It's on fire, please put out the fire!" 1. The sound of the door opening creaking, the footsteps clicking, the bucket and the washbasin clinking, just like the panic, hustle and bustle shown in the "Ventriloquism" learned in junior high school textbooks.

The most frightening thing is that the old man in the family just died, and the child hurriedly climbed to the roof, crying at the top of his lungs: Dad, come home! That kind of soul-crying sound makes people feel creepy and shudder.

There are also cries of filial piety. It is a custom in my hometown that a married girl whose natal family has died has her head wrapped in a mourning cloth and rides on a donkey cart to go to her husband's house to kowtow to her husband's house and cry loudly along the way. My mother who can’t speak, how could you be so cruel and leave me alone? My mother—” Sometimes when I’m mowing grass in the fields, I can hear it for miles away, so I ask which village a person has died in. , it will spread throughout the village. Everyone knows what is going on in the surrounding villages.

The silence of the countryside is sometimes broken by the sound of bamboo flutes or suonas. The person playing the suona must be an expert in feeding cattle. He is the breeder on the team. The children were not satisfied with what they heard from a distance, so they rushed to the barn in a swarm to watch the old man squatting on the piles of bricks and playing. The big flute was playing very vigorously, and everyone was just having fun. No one knew what tune it was playing.

If you hear the sound of blowing conch shells or horns on the street, you will know that a steamed bun seller is coming without even leaving home. The cowhide rattle is for playing cotton, the crisp iron rattle is for changing sesame oil, and the wooden clapper is for selling tofu.

Those who beat the gong alone are either selling needles, threads, brains, or playing tricks.

But when the gongs and drums rang together, the village troupe gathered together again to have fun. The old fool played the drums, the blind man played the cymbal, the old Taoist played the suona, the two lunatics held the sheng, and 90% of them played the gong. Jiucheng's gong knocking is very distinctive. He holds the wooden clamp holding the rope in the tiger's mouth of his left hand, holds a hammer in his right hand, the head of the hammer is wrapped in cloth, knocks it down with a "dang" sound, and hurriedly covers the surface of the gong with his palm, which makes it tremble. The "buzzing" sound just started and then stopped suddenly. In addition to playing gongs, 90% of the opera also sings. It is a Luantan opera that is popular in the hometown. The characteristic of the singing is the upward pitch at the end. People who are not used to it will say that the singing sounds like a donkey's braying.

Sometimes I was still mowing grass in the field in the afternoon. After cutting for a long time, the sun was still high, and I heard the sound of a trumpet coming from the village a few miles away: Comrades, we are in Xingyuan tonight. The brigade screened a movie, and the movie screened was the colorful battle story film "Shining Red Star". When we heard the movie trailer, we got excited. We quickly packed up the straw, put it in a basket, tied it tightly with a rope, and carried the straw home so that we could have an early meal and watch the movie.

Entering the courtyard, he shouted crisply, "Mother——!" There is smoke curling above my head, and in my ears is the sound of the bellows in the stove, accompanied by my mother's warm and friendly response...