Country April

A night of wind and rain, everywhere. A grand flower party is over.

The grass grows and the warbler flies, but the clouds are light and the wind is light. The countryside in April, like a pregnant woman, experienced a passionate bloom in March, and now it is calm.

Willow branches are no longer the size of a goose yellow, and those leaves with curved eyebrows turn green. Wicker is also deep, no longer coquettish and graceful, quietly hanging down a piece of moss on the shoulder, looking after myself by the river.

Peach trees, pear trees, apricot trees, red, white and pink flowers are all gone, and small olives the size of their bellies are hiding under lush dark green leaves, poking their heads out from time to time and peeping at the outside world curiously and naughtily.

Sophora japonica woke up late, missed the grand flower party, arrived in summer ahead of schedule, and vomited a bunch of worries. The tree is full of flowers, as white as silver. The faint scent attracts bees to buzz. The sweetness of Sophora japonica intoxicated rural life.

Wheat straightened up, absorbed enough sunshine and rain, and got pregnant. The green leaves can't wrap their stomachs, but there are several cracks and the ears of wheat stick out neatly.

Rape flowers faded the brilliant yellow turban insurrectionary, and a handful of lush rape flowers hung on the branches. Rape at this time is like a pregnant woman who is full of food and drink, lazily leaning in the field.

The wild flowers on the grass slope seem to be dazzled, and the stars are hiding in the grass. But soon, they were submerged in the green ocean. ...

Frogs are not as loud as in March, and they pour out like whispers between husband and wife. The river is as warm as a girl's skin. Reed spread and occupied a large area of water. The fish is very happy at the moment, jumping out of the water from time to time, causing a splash.

Waterbirds are in small groups and leisurely on the water. In the grass, there is a nest they just built.

The birds in the Woods are no longer excited, and they don't show off their voices like they did in early spring. They just focus on building their love nests in the bushes. Occasionally, a chirp or two also reveals maternal tenderness.

Swallows are the busiest at this time. They fly to the fields and fly back to the beams on the roof. In their nests, there are more worries.

The sparrow's mouth is always idle, chattering all day and not tired at all.

"Goo goo, goo goo-"Goo goo's cry glided over the distant mountain ridge, and people began to get busy. "In April, there were few idle people in the countryside, and only silkworms were planted in the fields." After busy planting melons and beans, the farmers began to go barefoot and there were seedlings all over the ground. They serve the land with piety, water crops with sweat and catch up with the season with steady steps.

In April in the countryside, there is no lack of vitality in leisure, and there is no lack of hope in tranquility!

Second, it's another year of fragrance of Sophora japonica.

A rain in late spring washed away the floating dust.

At dusk, walking on a country road, my eyes are full of green. Green seems to be dripping from the tip of the leaf. In the air, faint fragrance, sweet, refreshing!

Inadvertently, I bumped into Sophora japonica. At present, a string of white Sophora japonica flowers is arranged in a huge sea of flowers. Every locust tree is not idle, busy and lively. The vigorous old Sophora japonica has thin and round leaves, full of pure white, and many thin flowers; The new Sophora japonica has tall branches, thick leaves and delicate petals, which are piled up like silver one by one. These delicate and unique flowers, like emerald butterflies, gather together and dance in the breeze; It is like a string of wind chimes, whispering in the twilight.

It's another year of fragrance of Sophora japonica, like a grand farewell ceremony in spring.

Sophora japonica, a very common tree in rural areas, can be seen everywhere along the river ditch and in front of and behind the house. Clusters of locust trees, like unpretentious villagers, quietly guard the quiet time in the countryside.

When we were children, Sophora japonica was once our food. At that time, food was scarce. In late spring and early summer, the rice jar bottomed out, and the wheat seedlings in Shang Qing fields were out of season. Sophora japonica blooms like a timely rain. Clusters of Sophora japonica flowers are like silver and snow, and their fragrance is overflowing. We have no intention to appreciate the beauty of Sophora japonica, but only food in our eyes. The girls are twisting baskets in one hand and holding bamboo poles tied with hooks in the other, vying for the next Sophora japonica flower. With bamboo baskets on their shoulders, the children are as agile as monkeys and ride on tall locust branches for a long time. Stroke a handful of broken silver Sophora japonica, chew it, and the faint sweetness is mixed with the faint bitterness. Between talking and laughing, the basket is full and my stomach is half full. I swished down the tree and skipped home humming a nursery rhyme.

At dusk, the kitchen of every household is filled with the fragrance of Sophora japonica. A bowl of Sophora japonica can make your mouth water and keep your lips and teeth fragrant. The Sophora japonica in my hometown made the villagers eat a full meal for half a month and spent the days of famine.

After the family production quotas was determined, the villagers solved the problem of food and clothing, and Sophora japonica gradually faded out of the villagers' table. Sophora japonica doesn't care about people's neglect at all. Every year in late spring and early summer, it still blooms passionately, soaking the whole village in the fragrance of Sophora japonica. At this time, the villagers remembered that the Sophora japonica bloomed again!

Nowadays, people who are tired of eating big fish and meat are beginning to return to nature. All kinds of wild vegetables have become the new favorites on the dining table. Sophora japonica also began to enter the room, appearing on the menu of high-end hotels in the city, and its value continued to rise. However, the locust tree is still watching in the countryside, year after year, instead of competing with peaches and plums for spring, it only blooms once in late spring to complete a cycle of life.

"Sophora japonica blooms in May, like snow like a butterfly. Slight wind and waves, strings floating on the balcony. Fragrant fragrance, angel arrival. What is this? Still innocent. " Sophora japonica in front of us reminds people of the origin of "Sophora japonica" in Lin Yan.

Another year of Sophora japonica fragrance, drunk the fields, fragrant the countryside and fragrant the hearts of wanderers!

Editor's comment:

People often compare spring to a girl in spring, but the author compares the countryside in April to a pregnant woman. She experienced a passionate bloom in March and became more mature and quiet. Willow branches are no longer coquettish and graceful; Peach, pear, apricot ... flowers have fallen, but fruits have taken their place; Cuckoo sound, spring ploughing and autumn harvest. Another year, the fragrance of Sophora japonica, the author's stroke-by-stroke changes, evoked many beautiful memories and imaginations, and also implied that without hard work in life, how can there be fragrance of fragrant flowers? Yes, in April in the countryside, there is no lack of vitality in leisure and hope in tranquility! Like a painting, like a song. The article is catchy to read, beautiful in language, harmonious in scene and appropriate in action, which gives readers a kind of enlightenment and enjoyment. Excellent works recommended * * * reward!