Essays on rural prose

Accustomed to the hustle and bustle of the city, tired of the right and wrong and depression of the school, it is a new life experience to go to the countryside for a day's leisure.

From the dense cement forest to the yellow land with wide vision, from the bustling crowd to the scattered cattle and sheep, from the criss-crossing highways to the golden wheat fields and green vegetable fields. All these changes have made me realize that I am closer to my destination-the countryside.

Walking into the countryside, a gray-yellow dirt road leads to the distance, which makes me understand the way I want to go. The road is long, and there are villages on both sides of the dirt road. Parthenocissus creeps on the outer wall of the village. From the area it occupies, we can imagine its prosperity and health in the past. In spring, its little feet become a sign of spring, and in summer, it blocks the overbearing and strong summer heat for the host. In autumn, he changed from green to red and became a beautiful scenery in the eyes of others. In winter, he meditates and hibernates to prepare for his rise in the coming year ... Parthenocissus is great, but stingy. He can only appear on the low earth wall, but he can never climb the towering skyscrapers. Maybe it's his choice. Presumably, he doesn't want to make himself so tired. Walking along the dirt road, there was a family whose wooden door was left unlocked. You can see a pair of murals painted with green mountains and green waters from the gap, which seems to add a trace of yearning. I pushed open the dirt door and creaked. A woman in a cotton-padded jacket looked at me doubtfully and asked me who you were looking for. I was so choked that I didn't know how to answer. I stammered that I was wrong and left in a hurry.

Every family in the village has a separate yard. There are many kinds of trees in the yard. Some people plant trees just to enjoy the cool in summer, while others have fruit trees covered with red, like a piece of Xia Hong. Walking under a tree, people have the impulse to pick fruit from the tree. Many people have also opened up a vegetable field in their yard and planted leeks and spinach ... the clever women in the village will put them away before dinner.

In the evening, I walked through the country road, and the doors of some families were open. Then I walked forward and saw several middle-aged women sitting around a small table with melon seeds and peanuts on it. The women grabbed it, coughed skillfully and chatted: someone in the east of the village got married, and someone in the west of the village made a lot of money again ... They shook their heads when they saw me coming in, but they were very enthusiastic and in a hurry. I grabbed a handful of melon seeds and stuffed them into my hand. They asked me where you are from, whose family you belong to, and so on. After asking, they all yawned and hurried home.

Unfortunately, a stranger entered the village, and then he only heard the dog barking, but he was silent. That light footsteps can really be described as Xun Mei walking in the snow. The man walked towards me, and we stared at each other without talking. He hurried past me and looked back at him. He looked back at me, but he still didn't speak.

Maybe we city dwellers are strangers to the villagers, and we are so frustrated by the interests that our feelings are out of tune with the countryside, so that we have to be silent when we come here.