In the seasonal prose permeated with gold and fragrance

Cars gallop on the winding Panshan Highway, and the fog locks the mountains, and Qian Shan is full of white fog. The driver avoided the wind and fog, and finally we reached the foot of the mountain. I looked around through the window glass and saw the spring.

Dashan took off his bloated white down cotton-padded jacket and put on a green costume. Some unknown grasses emerged from the ground like needles, gradually, from light yellow to light green, then from light green to dark green, and finally turned into dark green: bitter cauliflower, sun-like flowers, dotted around, blooming on both sides of that ditch. There is no flattery of bees, no attachment of butterflies: branches of all kinds of trees are covered with small buds, as bright as babies' eyes when they wake up. That is the dew hanging on the bud: the clear river is still gurgling to the Qingjiang River, the Yangtze River and the sea, and the smoke is gradually rising on the chimneys of farmers' houses in the village. Happy, the whole nature is awake.

In the distance, a piece of Huang Cancan is bright! It is suspected that there is a fiery red cloud on the horizon, which has dyed the whole world golden, and even the car we are riding has turned golden.

This is a pile of fields surrounded by criss-crossing ditches and rivers when rape flowers enter full bloom. Golden rape blossoms are endless, and tourists shuttle through them, picturesque, blue sky and clear water, weaving a beautiful picture of "thousands of rivers and waters are clearer, and there is no pile of yellow flowers in the field", which is beautiful. I am enjoying the beautiful scenery in front of me with great interest, and my mind is brewing and remembering the ancient people's descriptions of similar scenery in front of me. At that time, when the poet Yang Wanli stayed at Xugongdian Inn in Xincheng, he was also reluctant to part with the scenery of rape fields at the back door of the inn. You see: "Children are rushing to chase butterflies, and flying cauliflower is nowhere to be found." When a little flowing yellow falls to a purer yellow, I'm afraid it's a flower, and butterflies are not as good as butterflies! Emperor Qianlong once wrote a poem praising rape flowers with the theme of "cauliflower": "Yellow flowers with thick green leaves make a thousand villages new oil. Love is for people's livelihood, not idle flowers and weeds. " Seriously, who doesn't say "rape flower" is an ordinary flower? We don't say that there is no record of it in the ancient flower spectrum, its position has never been seen in the house, and there will be no shadow of it in the greenhouse nursery. She is like a pure and quiet little fairy, growing up calmly and silently. When the leaves are lush and the flowers are blooming, she is swaying in the wind, full of gold and fragrance. This is very attractive. Some people say, "Rape flowers are cheap and unsightly", but Li Yu, a writer in the early Qing Dynasty, said, "There are only a few flowers in the garden, even hundreds", but "Rape flowers are flourishing ... what a magnificent scenery!" The happiness of suburban beds is only rape blossoms and climate. The ancients also wrote such hymns for rape blossoms: "The rape blossoms in the north of the Yangtze River are yellow, butterflies dance in spring and go to vegetable fields", "Rape blossoms for a hundred miles, and several bees play in the setting sun" and so on. Who has its grandeur and who has its unprecedented?

Suddenly, with a bang, the car suddenly braked. It turned out to be a flat tire. We have to get off for a while and have a rest. "Well, isn't this a great opportunity to get close to nature?" I muttered in my heart. Out of the car door, I saw a piece of Huang Cancan ma. I walked onto the road and bent down to watch these "gifts" given by nature-rape blossoms. That petite and exquisite figure, that thick floral fragrance, came to my face. Huang Chengcheng's buds are covered with branches, and bees are flying among the flowers. They followed the bees to the riverbank not far away and the rape fields beside the highway. They set up a small tent with rows of brown beehives, and the bees around them were flying and busy. I walked to the river bank involuntarily. When I came to the hive, I realized that most of the people chasing cauliflower honey came from Baise, Guangxi, Jiuquan, Gansu, Jinyuan, Shanxi, Yulin, Shaanxi and Qianjiang, Hubei. ...

Mr. and Mrs. Hu from Qianjiang, Hubei, wearing beekeeping hats, bent down and gently opened the beehive to take out honey. Hu, who has been a bee for decades, told me that if the honey board is not taken out in time, the bees will "sit back and enjoy it" and will not go out to collect honey. So in this season when rape blossoms are in full bloom, the couple are very busy every day, and sometimes they have to be busy until dark to eat. The couple chatted very well, and Khufu went on to say, "Because the flower varieties and flowering periods are different in different places, the time for picking flowers is different. When the local rape season is over, it will be transferred to other provinces and the venue will be transferred at least four times a year. " According to Lao Hu, the length of flowering depends on the climate, and it will be greatly affected if it encounters cooling and windy weather. They are most afraid of rainy days: bees can't get out, so they have to feed sugar, which costs thousands of dollars a year. There are more than 300 beehives. Everywhere you go, you have to pack, transport, unload and settle down for bees all the time.

……

"Didi" and "Didi" car horns kept ringing again. Maybe the car tire has been repaired. I reluctantly said goodbye to the beekeeper and left my cell phone number for future contact.

I got on the bus again and sat in a seat beside the car. As the car slowly moved forward, I opened the window glass again and looked at these "beekeepers" in the north and south, filled with respect.

Looking back at the "rape blossoms" all over the mountains: when you walk into the rape blossoms, you can only see that their branches are connected with each other, United and full of vitality. When the wind and rain hit, they supported each other and prevented one of their companions from falling down. They are holding bundles of golden flowers and turquoise Ye Er, shoulder to shoulder, holding hands. Look, they dance in the spring and play exciting and inspiring life movements on the eaves.

I praise rape flowers, but I praise the beekeepers who have been chasing rape flowers!