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Composition material: hometown situation
The Mid-Autumn Festival will be in a few days, and the festival will be the topic of the composition. Tonight, the moonlight is like silver. I am sitting alone on the balcony under the morning glory, with a cup of tea and a thin book. Clear as water, flowing quietly on my clothes. ...

I can't help thinking of my hometown.

The Mid-Autumn Festival in my hometown is lively and comfortable. Every family should measure a handful of new glutinous rice and make it "crispy". Steamed glutinous rice is poured into the bamboo basket. The master had already stopped his farm work, washed his muddy feet by the pond and came with a glutinous rice basket. Tangyuan is usually made on the threshing floor. During the day, pull up incandescent lamps, cucumber racks and clothes drying poles under the eaves, and pull them up wherever you can. The stone mortar squatting in the corner to sleep was moved out, and the wooden wedge was smashed into delicious dumplings, smooth and tender. Those who hit the wedge are all strong men, and there are also lean and ruddy old men like shrimp. It's a woman squatting on the edge, reaching into a stone mortar and touching it. A woman's arm is wrapped in sleeves, which is not white. She's been in the sun all season, and she's shiny black. Oily hands churned on shiny dumplings, as smooth as loach. The man's back is bare, sweating like rain, smooth, bright and clear. They stand sideways with their hands wedged, their front legs and knees flexed, and their feet "groan" with the rhythm, which is simply dancing. The beautiful hum attracted many viewers. The audience were in groups of three or five, sitting or squatting, or leaning against the surrounding low walls. Women talk a lot, whose clothes are fresher than others; Men talk about crops and compare their rice harvests; The children missed this good opportunity and dared not chase after it. One family is finished, and the next one is already waiting. People praise men's good bones and muscles, women's sweet glutinous rice, the climbing of cucumber branches in this family, and the early seedlings of late rice seedlings in that family ...

I am boarding in a middle school not far away. This middle school is located on a flat top near Fenglin Creek. It used to be an Antang, and people used to call it Nan Nan An. Every Mid-Autumn Festival, I always look forward to studying by myself, taking advantage of the bright moonlight and walking along the mountain road in running all the way. Or take a shortcut, along the stone road by the water, listening to the thrilling sound of waterfalls and the tinkling sound of streams all the way, crossing the fields and coming to the joyful light to share the freshest fragrant glutinous rice.

More interesting is fishing. That's a children's game. We are all teenagers aged 14 or 15. Moonlight, like white sand. The fog has not yet risen. Frogs croak and sing in rice fields and ponds. We put the fishing net on the back, put it on the bamboo basket and set off. Below the field is the sand beside Fenglin Creek, with bamboo rafts lying horizontally. We chose a wide and big one and pushed it down the stream together. Cousins support poles, cousins cast nets. I'm a novice, so I just sit tight. A penny moves, and the moon in the water is broken, broken, like a pool of jade pieces immersed in clear waves. On both sides are dark fields, silent villages and long, towering peaks. The breeze blew gently, gently sliding across the cheek.

We crossed the stream and laid a net. Then, avoid to the place where the water is slow, lie on the raft and listen to my sister sing, and the middle school students write a composition about the festival. My sister was keen on acting when she was young. She recruited several playmates of the same age and set up a stage in front of her own hall. Many people came to see her! I still remember her song "Good Mountains, Good Waters and Good Scenery". The sweet and clear voice pierced the silence of the water and the silence of the moon and blew into our hearts like a breeze. Then, my brother played a joke. The moon reflects the waves, the fog is hazy and inhuman. My brother's ghost appeared. Many people drowned on a beach, and ghosts appeared one after another! Special for catching children! -This beach is right here! My cousin cried first, and we screamed in horror and hurried away. My brother suddenly got carried away, "hahahaha" smiled and walked back and forth with his stomach in his arms.

It's late at night. Let's close the net and go home. The net has been pulled up. It's heavy. Large and small fish, like treasures, are packed into fish baskets one by one, and there are always no less than half a basket. So, in the next two days, several bowls of bright colors were added to the dining table. Aunt stewed with Chili and garlic, instead of soy sauce, but put the June sauce that is now drying in a bowl, which is very fragrant and sweet. When we saw this "fruit of labor", all four boys and girls were like cats, and it didn't take two meals to solve it. My brother even eats fish and doesn't spit bones.

After finishing college and teaching students, every time I read Ode to Red Cliff, "The moon rises above Dongshan Mountain and wanders between bullfights. Milky white fog across the river, clear water. What a reed can do makes Wan Qing at a loss. Vast as leaning on the virtual wind, I don't know what to stop; Fluttering like independence, feathering into immortality, I miss those years. It has been fifteen years since I left my hometown, and I have never enjoyed such scenery and moonlight again. Looking at the students who grew up in the city in front of them, although they tried their best to describe the ethereal and wonderful scenery, they always felt in vain.

So I'm even more glad that I have such a beautiful teenager. I have a collection of teachers' words at hand, in which there is a record of 1982 moonlit fishing in Nannan Temple:

Yugezi * Guanyin fish

The bright moon shines on the beach, and the fish are in a hurry. The heron rushed in, and the fish in the basket panicked. The fish came back for wine to cook.

At the end of the word, a detailed note was made. When the cloud-built stone cofferdam touches the hole to catch fish, its hands are crossed in a Guanyin shape, so it is called "Guanyin fishing". This lyricist is a famous doctor in his hometown, which is recorded in detail in the county annals. I transferred to my hometown halfway, and I was fortunate to be his closed disciple. I remember once writing a composition about fishing. He called me out, smiled gently and asked me if it was true. I rang my throat and answered with certainty: it's true. He smiled even more brightly. He said that there were not many fish in the moonlit night, and he would not jump out of the water himself. Later, I learned that he not only fished, farmed and picked tea by himself, but also designed, made models, built houses, treated diseases, wrote poems, wrote lyrics, composed music, painted and cut paper by himself, all of which were exquisite. Even after retirement, in order to solve the spring flood and summer drought, he also made plans for the village and built water conservancy projects. Isn't it a privilege to be taught by such a teacher? In particular, his character is more like the radiance of this full moon, which is amazing.

Now, twenty years have passed. Linfeng River is no longer full of soup, and several power stations have been built upstream. The water is shallow, the flow is slow and the river is thin. My brother and sister and I have already delayed the children. My cousin died young for almost fifteen years. The teacher also had a car accident and suffered head damage. Fortunately, he saved his life, but he still thinks of me from time to time. Call back during the day and ask your brother, sister, aunt and uncle. Sister said, thin, lean, busy with the production management of the processing plant. According to my uncle, my brother is considering driving the workshop to the county seat, and the labor force has gone out to work, so he can't recruit anyone.

So, I know, I can only sit on the balcony and dream in vain. I think, maybe one day, when we are all old and idle, we can all stop and fulfill our responsibilities as children, women, fathers and mothers. Perhaps, one night, we will push down a big and wide bamboo raft together, singing light songs all the way and rippling on the Fenglin River!

The night is very cold, and the moon is already noon. I'd better go in! The moon knows that it's time to fulfill this dream for me!