Appreciation of Liu Haiming's Prose in Gu Xiang

Autumn is the biggest season for fighting fish.

With the "rumbling" thunder drifting away in summer, the sky of fighting fish is empty, distant and blue day by day. On both sides of the river ditch, the mountains in the distance and the farmland in the vicinity, like oil paintings written by painters, are changing from shallow to deep and becoming colorful. The cicada singing at noon is not as hoarse as in summer, and the ending sounds exhausted. The heat and humidity were blown away by the southeast wind. When I got up in the morning, I looked up and saw that the yellow grass on the top of the cliff slowly turned from yellow to red without the farmers knowing it.

The wind gently stroked the heavy ears of grain, with the fragrance of the ears of grain, reaching my taste. The fresh and elegant fragrance of the ears of grain makes me grateful for the grain that heaven and earth have given us, and at the same time makes me awe of the words land and labor.

17: 00 or 18: 00, I often sit halfway up the mountain and inspect the millet in the mountains, like an experienced general and review his soldiers. In the terraced fields of each ditch, the green waves are rippling, undulating and noisy. I often exaggerate my imagination of the soon-to-mature millet, hoping that this plant will stretch for thousands of miles and be boundless.

"The wheat should be deep, the valley should be shallow, and the beans only need to hide their faces." This is the recipe that my father taught me to grow crops. After a spring rain, amid the cuckoo's chirping and slightly bleak cry, there was a "click" sound of funnel eggs hitting the funnel in the terraced fields in the ditch, and the farmers' work of sowing hope began year after year. Cows pull, donkeys pull, and people pull, and grain drills into warm, humid and steaming land through legs; Then, farmers will step on the newly planted seeds along the ridge. Stepping on the spot is a technical job. Keep your eyes on your feet, and your feet should exert force evenly. Don't leave any gaps in the footprints. Farmers step on millet seeds, and the shapes are really varied. Because you have to put all your strength on the soles of your feet, your whole body can't help shaking up and down rhythmically. Some put their hands on their chests, some bend over, and some put their sickles behind their backs-this is a slap in the face.

This is labor, just like dancing.

The ancient temple has just been drilled out of the land, dense, fresh and soft, and the green lines are swaying in the fields. Before long, the farmers began to raise seedlings. There are two ways of thinning seedlings, which are called "moat valley" and "shovel valley" in local dialect. Ditches and valleys extend equidistantly, and valleys are arranged equidistantly. Ditches and valleys are planted by hand, and shovels and valleys under the flying hoes make rows of dense rice seedlings become a mound, like children holding a ball. Millet in seedling stage, like a group of innocent children, stood on the land beside the ditch in the wind at the same distance.

See Gu Xiu on June 6th. In June of the lunar calendar, the head of knee-high millet slowly appears with the appearance of Setaria (both of which belong to Gramineae and Setaria). At this time, the color of millet changed from light green to dark green, just like a dashing teenager. They appear and disappear under the green hills, grassy slopes, persimmon trees, war preparation canals and dead birds, giving me a real feeling. In my mind, the word "millet" has become the most beautiful word in the world.

Most of the day, wheat is yellow, and a bag of cigarettes is yellow. Time series to beginning of autumn, the ears of grain grow sturdily day by day, the thickness of the ears of grain has basically taken shape, and the whole porcelain is solid. In summer, Gu Sui looked up and looked around and bowed her head shyly, showing her modest and introverted nature. They are thanking the sun, paying tribute to the earth, and conveying the message of bumper harvest to farmers.

Soft persimmon is red, jujube is red, Chili is red, and another rich autumn is coming.

In the gap between picking peppers, my father sat under the tree smoking, smoky, looking at the millet in one place and counting the harvest after autumn, with a happy smile on his face. Pick a pepper tree and walk to another pepper tree. Me? I hurried through the dense millet with my basket, and the millet that was hit by my body swayed east and west, and the leaves of the millet rustled; The crushed millet wobbled and made a "beep, beep" sound similar to a fracture. This heartbreaking voice made my father suddenly stand up, with a long face and a harsh voice.

Sunshine, climate and time make millet from dark green to dark green, from dark green to light green, from light green to light yellow. At this time, the leaves in the valley are yellow and green, like a person's middle age, mature and atmospheric, yet low-key and calm, which looks like a different kind of demeanor. Inadvertently, the wind drained the straw, the leaves withered and rustled, and the sun patiently plated the ears of wheat with gold. The antiquity in late autumn is full, rich, simple and deep, with a sense of simplicity that has experienced many vicissitudes.

Birds smell the smell of grain. They fly from trees and grass in droves to share the harvest fruit. Sparrows are the most, twittering, singing silent songs, jumping up and down, which is annoying. In a family's millet field, there was a grass man. All kinds of faces are painted on the grass head. They are wearing brightly colored big (old) coats and straw hats, dancing in the wind, trying to scare the birds not to spoil the millet. These little tricks of the peasants played some roles at first; A few days later, the sparrow took practical action and peed on the head and arms of the cereal grass man (does the sparrow pee? I really don't know), have fun, just kidding.

Farmers, valleys, sparrows, scarecrows, these rural elements, in my childhood memory, have become vague impressionist paintings.

At the end of July, it rained on both sides of Zhangzhuo River. After being moistened by rain and sunshine in turn, the mature millet bends into an inverted U-shape and leans to one side under the irradiation of autumn sunshine, holding the ear of millet in your hand, which is full and rich in texture. If they hadn't hugged each other, I was really worried that a millet would fall to the ground top-heavy. In a sense, the ears of grain, grains or millet in Huang Chengcheng have the quality of gold.

The harvest has begun.

At first light, the village rang with the sound of sickle grinding. On the crimson millstone, the sickle rubbed up and down, and purple water flowed all over the floor. The blade gleamed with cold light under the reflection of sunlight. Father mustered up all his strength and prepared to take back all the millet in two or three days. Cutting millet is really tiring. Stand firm with your feet, twist your left arm, palms outward, grab the grain handle and chop down three or six ridges. Bend over, cut off, twist your waist, and let go of your handle. This simple and monotonous action will be repeated mechanically for one day. The father, who was labeled as a "good worker" by the villagers, was too tired to lose his temper with us even if he was isolated from the valley for one day. When it comes to cutting grain, to be honest, I'm not particularly good at it. Tired a lot, not as much as others cut, these are the second, mainly because I feel ashamed. There is also low back pain. Accurately speaking, it is not low back pain, but sleepy waist. After cutting for a while, you should straighten your waist and feel comfortable. My parents see me far away, not afraid of slowness, but afraid of standing. I said, low back pain. Mom said, where does a child have a waist?

It makes me very entangled and even depressed. If we want to talk about the benefits of cutting the grain, we can not only harvest food, but also look at the colorful mountains around the fighting fish and think about some beautiful things. I can hear the "bang" when the sickle cuts the root of millet. I am addicted to this reassuring voice, and I will never get tired of listening to it.

After the millet is cut and tied, it's time to carry the grain bundle. There are not many real plains for fighting fish, and they are basically hillsides. Where the flat car can't reach, it has to be carried. Fifty or sixty kilograms of grain were tied on the shoulders, hot and dry, and the whole body seemed to have rushed to the face, and blood was rubbed out from the back of the neck. I don't know the exact feelings of others, but from the perspective of "what you don't want others to do", it will definitely not feel much better. The blood on the neck and face is full of salty sweat and spicy pain, and the sweat flows into the eyes again, making the world seem lost. Sometimes, I think pessimistically, it is really not easy for farmers to do so many things to get enough to eat. Soon, this idea was replaced by the joy of harvest.

Yes, for farmers, nothing in this world makes people feel more at ease and elegant than adequate food and clothing!

I have always been confident that in the 9.6 million square kilometers of land where we live, Shangdang's soil and climate are most suitable for the growth of millet, and the millet produced is of good quality. For example: Qinzhou yellow. Worryingly, the planting area of millet is shrinking year by year. In our Douyu Village, we seldom see patches of ancient emperors.

I have seen many pictures of Chairman * * * wearing a straw hat, smiling and holding Gu Suier standing in Gu. It was the close contact between the great man and the land, and the warm interaction between the leader and Xiaomi. Through the details in the photo, I understand the chairman's deep love for Xiaomi.

I have an indescribable description of this plant, Xiaomi. Every time I see pictures of Xiaomi and words about Xiaomi, I feel different emotions in my heart. I will meet my childhood again and again, and wander around for a long time to relive the love and warmth that Xiaomi gave me.

One night, the whole community suddenly lost power, and the room was dark, lying in bed, inexplicably falling into the memory of Xiaomi.

The sun is shining in autumn, the sky is clear in Wan Li, and the fighting fish valley is surging. I stepped on the soft ridge, passed through the thick and fluffy valley emperor, and enjoyed the magnificent glory and brilliant millet. When the southeast wind blows, the flat valley turns up waves and ripples, and the ears rustle; After the gale, they returned to their normal state of calm, firmness and vitality. Standing on a high place and looking from a distance, the mountains and plains are layered, like yellow silk satin and gold, winding on the mountainside, stretching in the river ditch, tossing and turning around the village. In a blink of an eye, Xiaomi climbed over the mountains and climbed to the top of the high mountain, paved the road at the head of the village, and dyed the smiling face of a villager light yellow. Suddenly, a straw hat slowly fell, fell, fell from the height of the big cliff. It has never fallen, it has been fighting for jade at high altitude, and it has been falling slowly in the passage of time. Together with the fragrance of millet, it has permeated the air I breathe for a long time.