Miss the birdsong in my hometown mountain village

Miss the birdsong in my hometown mountain village

Text/Liu Xianluo

How long has it been since we felt the breeze on the mountain in the city? How long has it been since I observed plants or insects up close? How long has it been since I saw geese flying in the sky? How long has it been since I heard birds singing in the mountains?

I used to love chasing dreams when I was young and often wandered around the country. I feel that my hometown is too big, and there are mountains everywhere. It seems that I will never get out. However, children in rural areas have their own happiness and beauty, especially when they hear all kinds of birds singing.

In spring, everything revives and spring flowers bloom. Walking in the Yuan Ye, on the mountain ridge, at the edge of the village, you can smell the flowers everywhere. Along the direction of the fragrance, you can always find white apricot flowers, pear flowers, plum blossoms and pink peach blossoms … competing to open. All kinds of grass began to lean out of their heads and kept looking around. All kinds of trees began to sprout, and it was a busy scene. All kinds of birds are singing and scrambling to report the arrival of spring. The lark's voice is melodious, the magpie's voice is rich and high, the sparrow twitters like quarreling, and the oriole seems to be talking to people. ...

In summer, the big poplars in front of the door are dressed in green, and the village becomes a green ocean. I can't see the house at a glance, I can only see the smoke from the kitchen and hear the villagers talking loudly.

Cuckoo urges people not to forget the timing of sowing. "Yellow and Cut" (four cuckoos) stood on the branches, or flew in the sky, and kept calling "Yellow and Cut". Some even said that the cry was "Grandparents, cut wheat and transplant rice".

At this time, cicadas make the most noise. They sang loudly at the top of their lungs, and often one began to sing, and all the cicadas sang along, forming a magnificent symphony.

There are three kinds of cicadas in my hometown. One is big, its wings are orange, it flies very high, and its singing can last for several minutes, which is very noisy.

One is medium-sized, and its name is Wu Ying and Wu Ying ... In front of the house, in the fields, on the trees, on the hills, on the walls ... there are their figures and cries everywhere.

The other is the small-headed cicada, which usually starts singing at the end of summer and dusk, flying higher and responding more sensitively.

When I was a child, when I heard all kinds of cicadas chirping, a group of our friends took the homemade "Wu Ying Circle" (cicada catcher)-tied a circle made of bent branches on the top of bamboo, hemp or reed poles, and then put a spider web on the front and back of the adobe house, which was very effective in catching cicadas.

"The sky is blue, the yellow leaves are green, the west wind is tight, and the wild geese fly north and south. Whoever is drunk in the morning will cry." This is the scene of autumn and melancholy. When it gets cold, a flock of geese begin to fly to the south. The voice of the leading geese is loud and clear, and their cries resound through the sky, so majestic and desolate.

In the morning of autumn and winter, the happiest thing is lying on the hot kang, hiding in the bed, listening to the magpies in the tree in front of the door, listening to the villagers talking and laughing ... The old family said that the magpies kept barking in front of their house, indicating that something good was going to happen. So, I am looking forward to it. However, occasionally hearing croaking crows will make your heart tremble. The old man said that it is unlucky to crow, which generally refers to where people will die. Therefore, as soon as I hear crows, I am inexplicably afraid and always want to drive them away.

In fact, some birds are not fixed in which season, but have left their hometown for too long and become unfamiliar.

Once I thought I would be like my parents, with my back to the sky and my face to the loess all my life. Unexpectedly, when I grew up, I walked out of the mountains step by step and got farther and farther away from my hometown. ...

The fragrance of the soil in my hometown permeates my heart, the songs of birds keep on, and the words of my relatives linger in my ears … all these make me miss it very much!

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