Get out of the car, carry your things and go upstairs. Pushing open the door, grandma can't hide the happy look on her face, and the fine lines on her forehead are swimming happily, coming! She said. Hearing the sound, I hurried out of the kitchen, and Daoxiang escaped with his movements. Putting things down, I sat on the small red sofa and looked at the house up and down, which was many times better than the old house above. Oh, the old house. When I think of the old house, a gray picture unfolds in front of my eyes: the weather-beaten house stands hard on the hillside, the wall made of compressed plants feels uneven, the tiles on the top are beyond recognition, and the list of poor households is posted at the door. Don't talk about the room. You can't turn on the palm-sized TV, even the refrigerator, let alone the air conditioner and water heater. The ground was covered with dust. As soon as the door was closed, the whole room was dark.
There was a radio news below, and I suddenly woke up when I heard the sound. Watch TV. Oh, whatever you want. My grandfather said hoarsely, look at this table. I bought it not long ago. It can expel gas from the pipe. You can boil water at ordinary times and be surrounded by it in winter. Very warm! I still have a few hundred yuan subsidy in January, that's enough! The old man said excitedly that his rough round face was glowing red and his eyes were bright, as if he had drunk wine. I nodded again and again, feeling good in my heart.
Where's uncle? My brain got a moment's leisure and finally remembered him. He works in the slate factory, 200 yuan a day! My grandfather said happily. Where is the slate factory? The salary is quite high. My heart says. Grandpa, I'm going out to play for a while. I ran downstairs. The first thing I saw was an open space with all kinds of fitness equipment neatly placed on it, as well as basketball stands and table tennis tables. Children of different heights play together, and laughter is as clear as a silver bell, one after another, just like a playful and lovely song, echoing in a spring garden. Go further and the outline of the factory will appear. People come and go, machines roar constantly, like a symphony, playing a chapter in a happy life. In this way, it is a good thing to give full play to local characteristics to develop the economy, provide more employment opportunities for local people and avoid running around.
I found a stone bench and sat down. The gurgling sound of running water is heard by the wind, and the breeze blows over the face, which is soft and cool. At this moment, I saw the collision between gray and color, and the old and the new alternated; I heard, laughter, insects singing and birds singing, harmony between man and nature, poverty alleviation and rural revitalization, making the countryside look brand-new. The roads are wide and flat, the buildings are covered with rainbows, and groups of people are happy!
After dinner, set foot on the way home. The moon rises, the stars twinkle and the street lights light up. Sitting in the car, looking through the window, the street lamp pulls out bright yellow bands on the window, like a blade across the cake, and the paint cuts through the night. Recalling what I saw during the day: the same village, the same scenery, the same people, my feelings are completely different. I think the common scenery in this small village is also full of vitality because of the party's good policies. Isn't this new?
Among them, there are innovative compositions: 2. In the shadow of Xia Guang, Chen Chong has a low dusk and a bright moon at night; Ancient carved wooden windows, old mossy walls, deep and beautiful bamboo. This is a small mountain village that can be intoxicated by the smell of the wind. The old houses are scattered halfway up the mountain, like stars falling into thick green and flickering faintly.
Obviously, standing at the foot of the mountain, you can see the white walls and tiles of the old house when you look up, but you have to hold the mountain for half a circle to really get there. At the end of Panshan Road, there is a rocky loess road, which seems to be a crossing passage cut halfway up the mountain. Every crevice is scrambling to drill out all kinds of vegetation, rustling in the mountain wind. Only one car can cross this dirt road. On the left is a steep vertical cliff, and on the right is a bared rock barren hill, which seems to roll off rocks at any time. Every time, my father would drive by quickly and carefully, forbidding us to open the window, in case the overgrown shrubs and branches got into the car and stabbed people. Unfortunately, when I was a child, I was hanged because of my thick skin.
Once we cross the dirt road, a picture of simplicity and tranquility unfolds in front of us: weather-beaten old houses reveal vicissitudes of life, time leaves traces on mottled tiles, and five or six chickens, cows and sheep are freely stocked in a circle surrounded by big stones in the yard. Layers of paddy fields built on the mountain, the water covered with straw set off the blue sky, and the mature season will turn golden red.
When I was a child, I liked to play in the bamboo forest next to the yard. Jumped down from the yard with a tough bamboo, hooked his legs on the bamboo pole and slipped into the forest with a whoosh. Doby banana leaves (in fact, they are not bananas, which is what they have always been called) fly around to scare away the chickens looking for food, carefully bypass the fierce geese, and then pick up the leaves and feed them to the cows in the cabin. Tired and thirsty, I climbed back to the yard along the stone steps by the wall, washed my hands with mountain spring water, and then flew into the kitchen with open arms. In a short time, the kitchen smoke will come out from the roof, adding a fireworks atmosphere to the quaint and elegant old house. In the evening, the crimson sunset dyed the roof golden, and grandpa shepherd drove the white-bearded goat down the mountain slowly. The crunchy sound of two bronze bells echoed in every valley, and the sound was endless. Everything seems to heat up in the sunset and slowly sink into the night.
For more than ten years, my hometown has changed with my growth. In the past, the low brick house became a small building with two or three floors; In the past, the winding dirt road was also paved with cement, and the stone walls along the road were no longer easy to fall down after transformation; Every household has installed broadband, which has attracted tap water; Usually an hour's walk on the street is suddenly shortened in the change. Poverty alleviation and rural revitalization have brought good news to this small village deep in the mountains, making the life of neighbors who have lived here for generations more hopeful.
When the spring breeze warms up, golden rape flowers will bloom all over the ridge, and the breeze will cross the border, sending sweet vitality and brand-new hope to the distance.
Among them, there is a novel composition 3. The morning light is happy, the air in the small town is full of water vapor, and the mist covers the mountains. Every drop in the air reflects the appearance of my hometown. I rode up the mountain and returned to my hometown after a long separation.
The scenery along the way is still the same, Shan Ye is vast, it is raining gradually in the sky, and the drizzle with white hair licks the world. It suddenly occurred to me that I had many such moments of returning home, and the fleeting scenery overlapped countless pictures in my mind. Here we are. I looked up and saw the familiar old house and my whole childhood.
When I was young, my hometown was still very backward. This road is a bumpy dirt road. There is a big stone gate on the uphill, with a flat road in front and a steep slope behind. We always have to get off the bus first and get on the bus when the bus starts, otherwise we can't get on at all. When going up the mountain, there will always be yellow sand picked up by the car, which will make the car very dirty. From the road to the front of the house, you need to walk through a small dirt road. It doesn't matter if it doesn't rain. When it rains, it becomes a dirt road, and it takes a lot of effort to find a place to go back to the house. The house is not big, it is a small bungalow with wooden doors, wooden tables, wooden chairs and three small windows.
The old house is not big, but it was my favorite home paradise when I was a child. I often move a small desk and chair into the yard, bring some snacks, lie lazily in the chair to bask in the sun, or hide in the shade, pick the slender grass leaves and weave them into bracelets, and wear them on my hands to enjoy. Or sit on grandpa's tricycle, with the steering wheel, shouting to stop left and right. My sister and I will secretly hide grandpa's pipe and then solemnly tell him not to smoke. There is another one next to my hometown. My name is Third Grandma. There is a tree in front of their house. That tree has many branches and is very strong, so I often climb it with several people of similar age and sit on it to see the distant mountains. Time's love for plants has never halved. On the hillside, the grass grows and the warblers fly, and the unknown flowers are fragrant. From an early age, I knew that there was a hairy dog tail grass at the tip of the grass, and the cat's eye could see flowers. On the way, I can't eat a small fruit like strawberry, which will lead to nosebleeds. My greatest hope at that time was that the houses and roads in my hometown were like those in the city, so how comfortable it would be to live in the country.
Now that I'm back home, I've really changed a lot. The previous hillside was much better after trimming, and the dirt road became a cement road. The path in front of the house has also become a cement road, and a small bungalow has been built in front of the house. The kitchen is brand-new, with tiles and a refrigerator. Everything is the same as the house in the city. However, things have changed now. The tricycle is still there, but there is no childlike innocence, the pipe is still there, but there is no heavy smoker. The former playmates are drifting away because of their studies, and the flowers on the roadside are still in bloom, but no one will squat down to enjoy them. Children grow up and old people grow old. Grandma was forcibly brought to the city because we really couldn't worry about her. Few people come in and out of the old house now. It's already herbal tea. All I want now is a long-term reunion.
My hometown is a distant place where I can't go out. Its changes can't change my feelings for it. The people in my hometown are very sweet and the scenery is beautiful. Sowing ideas, new seedlings of hope will thrive on this fertile soil.