My hometown is located in the middle and lower reaches of the Yangtze River, which is a land rich in sugar cane. At first, my impression of rice fields was that I was curious about the big village called "Pengfuwan" where my grandmother lived, where only rice was grown. Rice fields are planted around my grandmother's village, and people there always take rice as their staple food, which always makes me envious. The village where I live is dominated by coarse grains such as corn flour, corn residue and glutinous rice all the year round, and occasionally I eat a staple food made of flour, which is as happy as Chinese New Year. And every time I go to my grandmother's house, I eat glistening rice, which smells delicious. I always eat bowl after bowl greedily, and my little belly will burst before I put down my chopsticks. I had a glistening meal and often wondered when there would be rice fields in my village.
When I was seven years old, the village unified land planning and reclaimed the reed pit in the south of the village into rice fields. At that time, I was happy, and I had a memorable rice field from then on.
In early spring, Ziyanbei returned to her nest with mud. A spring breeze awakens the fields that have been sleeping for a winter, and the frozen soil gradually lengthens the rigid body. When the spring is chilly, some unknown grasses try their best to drill out their heads, adding a touch of green vitality to the silent fields sporadically. There are many kinds of willow dances, just for exploring spring. After the intermittent spring rain, the fields became wetter. Spring breeze brings warmth, and rice fields seem to wake up from dreams. At this time, the village is also lively, chickens and dogs hear each other, kitchen smoke fills the air, and rice is leisurely. "Bang, bang, bang", like the assembly number of labor, gathered the villagers together. Only when the village chief gave the order, the villagers marched into the rice fields, and a busy scene came to their faces. The old cow "Cleisthenes" pulled the plow in front, and the villagers who helped plow behind shouted "Hurry, hurry". The old cow seemed refreshed and began to accelerate a little. Other villagers who followed closely turned over the soft soil with hoes and flattened it. Recently, I heard that the fragrance of the soil is accompanied by the spring breeze. Seen from a distance, Ma Pingchuan stretches as far as the eye can see, and rice fields seem to be spread out in the fields after a clever woman ironed her wrinkled clothes. Land is the lifeblood of farmers, who treat every inch of land like their own children. There are several birds hovering over the rice fields, and their songs are lingering. Looking up at the beautiful spring scenery, the spring scenery sheds warmth and touches the earth.
A year's plan starts with spring. Looking at the bright spring, the farmer's dark face also smiled. "If you don't plant in spring, you will get nothing in autumn." The next farm work is to prepare for the next spring ploughing. The villagers are busy dredging the ditches in the fields and strengthening the ridges. Standing on the ridge of the field, watching the clear water flow into the rice fields along the ditch. Clear water is like a water mirror, lying quietly in a square rice field. The spring breeze is blowing gently, and the waves shine like the bright and thorough eyes of a spring girl. As the water in the paddy field constantly moistens every paddy field, the intense and busy seedling raising work is proceeding in an orderly way. As the agricultural proverb goes, "If the seedlings are good, the grain will be harvested at half, and if the seedlings are good, the grain will be harvested at seven points." Hard-working villagers naturally understand how critical saplings are. First of all, the villagers will carefully select excellent rice seeds and soak them in clear water for a few days, which is also called seed soaking. When the soaked rice sprouts quietly, scatter them in the pre-selected seedling field. At this time, you need to wait patiently for about 30 days, but experienced farmers will not be at leisure. From time to time, he would wander around the rice fields and turn around the rice fields a few times before he felt at ease. Or sit on the ridge next to the rice field, watch the seedlings grow day by day, smoke a few bags of dry cigarettes and light the smell of dry cigarettes. In fact, I am also looking forward to the vigorous growth of seedlings and hope to have a good harvest. Looking at the magpie hovering overhead, the old farmer's face was also jubilant, and he even learned to chirp. Then he turned around and walked easily along the ridge with his hands behind his back. In the process of walking, he slowly sang another Peking Opera "Take the Tiger Mountain Outside": "Through the beautiful forest, through the snowy plain ..." At this time, the field echoed with the accent of Peking Opera, and the spring in his hometown has been singing spring songs all the way.
A month seems to have passed in a blink of an eye. Those seedlings are already about eight centimeters light green. Before your eyes, they are graceful, charming and lovely. At this time, most of the female laborers in the village were sent to "pick buds", that is, to pick the seedlings that have been cultivated in the rice fields, wait for transplanting and transplant them into the rice fields. When I was a child, I often followed my mother's group of female workers like a small tail. "Mom, can the bud still live when it is picked?" Seeing those green seedlings pulled up from the paddy field by their mothers and others, I feel that they seem to have lost their fresh life soon, and I am worried. The adults were amused by my innocence. "Silly girl, seedlings won't die. We just want to give them a bigger room for growth. " I was dubious at the time. I didn't know until I grew up that it was just that the growth environment of seedlings was different and the fittest survived.
It's time to transplant rice seedlings. Rows of poplars stand tall and straight beside the paddy fields in the fields, and like heroic soldiers stand in neat queues to guard the fields. The wind rustled the leaves, the frogs in the ditch stared at a pair of bright round eyes and cried, and all kinds of birds on the branches sang songs. Tall, located, one after another, the summer insects chirp intermittently. Adults began to transplant seedlings nervously and busily. Male laborers carried baskets of "bean sprouts" on their shoulders and sent them to the ridge of the field. On the ridge of the field, there are villagers who are responsible for throwing seedlings into the rice fields. Seedling throwers should have a keen insight into the needs of transplanters. The most tiring thing is transplanting rice seedlings. The transplanter lowered its head and carefully inserted the seedlings into the rice field at a certain distance. The seedlings planted by a good transplanter do not need any reference, but are straight and evenly spaced, line by line. My mother is a good hand at transplanting rice. She is not only diligent, but also the speed of transplanting rice seedlings is difficult for ordinary villagers to surpass. Mother never cuts corners when she does farm work. When transplanting rice seedlings, her mother who came home from work at night was so tired that she could hardly hold back. When people advised my mother to be lazy at work, she always said that she should live up to her conscience. I remember there was a folk song about transplanting rice in my hometown at that time: "Turn your back to the sky and face the loess, and stir up buds to bend." Hands and feet, backache and swollen wrists walk backwards. "Now with social progress and advanced technology, rice transplanters are mostly mechanized, saving a lot of time and effort. Think of my mother's generation, who has experienced too much suffering and won't complain. Because of my mother's example, I have looked down on those who play tricks since I was a child, and I am often proud of my mother. Adults are busy, and our little playmates are busy catching loaches. It is common to catch a few loaches in half a day. I put them in a jar and took them home with a little sense of accomplishment. When the caught loach is brought home, my mother always cooks a delicious fried loach. Fresh outside, fragrant inside, tender outside and salty outside. At that time, wild loach could be caught everywhere in ditches and rice fields. It is difficult to find traces of wild loach now, let alone its delicious taste.
Busy transplanting finally came to an end, standing on the ridge, watching the blue sky and white clouds reflected in the water of rice fields, little fish loach wandering back and forth, little black tadpoles sneaking under the seedlings with their tails wagging, and then swimming out to chase each other. The water snake appeared soon, and the frightened playmate was still surprised, but it had long since disappeared. The scenery stolen from the sky, the things swimming around in the water, and the green seedlings playing in the water, a beautiful pastoral scenery comes into view, so you can't help but be intoxicated. It takes several days for seedlings to adapt to the new environment when transplanted from paddy field to paddy field. After a period of time, the seedlings will thrive. Weeds such as barnyard grass also began to grow wildly, and pests were inevitable, competing with rice for nutrients. Farmers can't tolerate a little leisure, and they can't be careless about weeding, pest control and fertilization for a moment. The wild flowers on the gully ridge witnessed the hard work of farmers and often greeted them with joy and bursts of flowers. My friends and I often go to the ridges and ditches of rice fields to pick some wild flowers and take them home. They can be kept fresh in bottles for a few days, and then gradually wither. In summer, cicadas croak and frogs croak, and the seedlings in rice fields are getting taller every day. Intimate contact, soft green, like a girl's kiss, sweet lubrication. From a distance, it looks like a bed of green silk laid in the field, and the wind blows layers of green waves. Try to think, if you lie in a light rice field with wind and microwave, will you shake out a green dream?
Time passed day by day. In the hot summer, the rice field was fertilized and drunk enough, and began to jointing, tillering, breaking shells and heading. Red dragonfly and green dragonfly are together, standing on the ear of rice and swaying with the wind, but it is a leisurely feeling. Colorful butterflies are flying in costumes, like rushing to a passionate summer event, and unknown summer insects also join in the fun. In an instant, the rice fields were very lively. Insects and birds sing, dragonflies and butterflies dance, and the sky above the rice fields is like a natural dance floor and playground. Rice seedlings twist their slender waist with the wind, the broken ears of rice just heading show a slight smile, the water surface swings green waves, and there are harmonious and picturesque scenery everywhere.
Looking forward to, the autumn wind is coming, the autumn rain is continuous, and the fields are no longer lush. Yellow leaves fly and dance, the leaves are autumn, and the harvest season is here. The endless rice fields are full of Huang Chengcheng, golden and dazzling, fragrant and fragrant. A few crabs crawling out of rice fields ran wildly on the ridge of the field like no one's watching. They were big, full and fat, but they were still caught by the farmer and put into the net bag before they escaped. It is impossible for them to try to break free and regain their freedom several times. The kind of snacks that farmers should eat are delicious.
In October, the sky is high and the clouds are light. The golden, full and heavy ears of rice drooped their heads and bent over with laughter. Looking at the endless rice fields, the wind blows the rice waves and rolls, just like the golden waves overlap. Spring ploughing and summer rearing, the rice fields are full of joy, and farmers take out shiny sickles and look forward to an early harvest of rice. On a sunny day, I couldn't help taking a walk in the rice fields, watching the rice fields with a promising harvest roll in the Jin Lang with waves of wind, and the fragrance of rice flowers was refreshing. Back in the village, I met other villagers and said with a smile, "There is a bumper harvest in rice fields this year." The joy is beyond words. "Yes, families can share more rice this year." Farmers are easy to satisfy, and the joy of harvest is the best reward for them.
"Rice is afraid of cold dew and frost all night." Rice harvesting is also limited by solar time. On an early morning in the cold dew season, the sound of "clang, clang, clang" sounds like a rally. "Today's rice field sickle." Before the village chief spoke, the villagers flocked to the endless golden rice fields. The people who cut rice bowed their heads and waved their sickles, and "shua shua shua" cheered in unison. The experts who cut rice began to muster all their strength. Without prior words, the sound of brushing they heard was their own competition. In a short time, the rice cutter has walked from the field to the middle of the ground, with bundles of golden rice seedlings lying neatly behind him. The villagers in charge of bundling are unwilling to lag behind and follow in the footsteps of the rice cutters. Bundles of uniform and uniform rice seedlings are piled into hills and arranged at intervals in rice fields. After the rice harvest, look around again, and from a distance, there are small golden mountains stretching across the vast fields. Rabbits sometimes jump out of sight and hide in piles of rice seedlings. The vole slipped away and disappeared. It must have come to steal rice. All kinds of birds are twittering and excited, sometimes landing on rice seedlings and taking a bunch of rice, and sometimes strolling leisurely in the open fields. Look at Qiu Ren's "Oh, Woo". It makes birds fly around, stops for a while, and then comes and takes away a pile of rice. The harvested rice is piled up in the field for a few days, and then transported back to the drying field by ox cart and carriage for drying.
Dry the good rice on sunny days, pile it (from rice seedlings) and screen it, and finally put it back into the warehouse. Golden rice lies in the granary and continues to brew fragrant rice, and then every household is looking forward to sharing rice. As soon as the new rice was listed, the rice processing workshop in the village began to be lively. Line up in twos and threes and chat at home with a smile. When the shiny rice was poured from the processing machine into a one-meter bag sewn with their own old coarse cloth, a gust of wind at the feet of the impatient villagers quickly carried dozens of kilograms of rice home. At this time, the new straw piled in the corner still exudes a faint straw fragrance and the taste of the field. Domestic dogs lie beside the straw pile to keep warm, and chickens and ducks feed around the straw pile. As night falls, the smoke from the kitchen chimneys of every household in the village comes one after another, and the fragrant rice floats over the village in an instant, and some smells of Xinmite come straight to the nose. At that time, the sky in my hometown was blue, the water was clear and there was no pollution, and Daoxiang was naturally fragrant. Nowadays, with water pollution and air pollution, it's hard to find the pure taste and lasting fragrance of Micari. Is society progressing, or is it a little degraded? This should be a social problem worthy of in-depth thinking and can not be ignored.
The autumn wind is very strong and the autumn rain is very cold. Autumn hides, winter snows. The rice fields in my hometown slowly quieted down, the river began to freeze, and a piece of rice fields entered a sleeping period. He fell asleep quietly like an old man. Occasionally, sparrows will fly to the open rice fields for food, but unfortunately, they will inevitably meet wild dogs flying at high speed and become a feast for wild dogs. It is also a snowy field, and the slender poplars in the field still firmly guard the quiet field. Snow covers the fields quietly, and rice fields are like sleeping beauty in white clothes.
Although the rice field in winter is sleeping, spring will enter its dream. Although I am getting older every day, everything in my hometown is always surging in my memory. At this time, the autumnal equinox bursts outside the window, and I seem to smell the fragrance of rice and flowers in my hometown that comes with the wind. In front of me, the rice waves rolled with the wind. ...