The fence is sparse and there are shallow moss marks along the path .
The door of the old house with traces of time creaked softly and then slowly opened. The first thing that caught the eye was the bamboo fence covered with blooming morning glories. The morning dew has not yet dissipated, and they hang at the tips of the leaves, showing a sparkling appearance, just like stars accidentally left here at night. On both sides of the path, moss was quietly glowing green, slowly spreading inch by inch from the gaps in the stones and beside the roots of the trees. Its texture was soft and velvety, as if a thin layer of brocade had been specially laid over the vast land. At such a moment, all that could be heard in this quiet village were a few lazy chicken crows from the distance and the subtle rustling sound of the breeze gently blowing through the bamboo forest.
There is an old willow tree beside the pond, its branches already hanging down above the water. The slender leaves stained with morning dew look increasingly green. Occasionally, ducks that get up early will flutter their wings and jump into the water, making ripples in circles, crushing the skylight, clouds and shadows reflected in the water. Standing on the ridge of the pond and looking at it, I suddenly remembered what my grandmother said when I was a child - look at the water, the source is alive, that's why it is so clear. Isn't that true? The spring water in the mountain stream upstream flows gurglingly all year round. When it reaches here, it feeds ponds full of fish and shrimp, and also irrigates the rice fields along the canal.
The fields are winding and the seedlings are green
Walking deeper into the field ridge, the rice fields on both sides have grown to knee height, showing a lush green appearance, very dense and dense. Once the wind blows gently, layers of green waves will appear. The field ridge is relatively narrow and narrow, and can only accommodate one person walking through it. The soft soil material under your feet gives you a thick and gentle feeling when you step on it. A dragonfly rested on the tips of the rice leaves, its thin wings shining with colorful light under the sunlight; after the frog heard the footsteps, it jumped into the paddy field, splashing small water splashes.
The farmer wearing a straw hat and plowing grass in the field bent his body, one after another, and the rhythm of his movements was leisurely. Sometimes I straighten up, wipe the sweat with the towel on my shoulders, watch the sunshine for a few days with half-squinted eyes, and then resume my work. In these kinds of work in the fields, it's not okay to rush or be lazy. Just like the seedlings have to grow one after another, and the grass has to be pulled out one by one, the days are also spent day by day. The sun slowly rose higher, making people's bodies warm. The fields were covered with wild chrysanthemums, all golden in color. The small flowers clustered together, making it look extremely lively.
The smoke is curling up , the stove fire is warm
When the sun turned to the west, wisps of cooking smoke rose in the village. It was light at first, showing a fluttering state, and then gradually became thicker, rising straight up and spreading in mid-air, as if a thin veil was covering the village. Inside the stove, the pine branches burned with a crackling sound. The rice soup in the iron pot was bubbling, and the whole house was filled with the aroma of rice. Grandma added a piece of firewood to the stove. The firelight reflected on her face, and the wrinkles on her face seemed to soften. She said that the rice cooked with firewood must be simmered slowly. Only when the heat is reached can the rice fragrance be revealed.
The shelf is covered with loofah vines, and the flowers blooming on the vines are bright yellow. Several chickens were scratching for food under the rack, making cooing sounds at the same time. The jujube tree in the corner was filled with green-colored fruits, and its branches bent under the weight of the fruits. At this time of year, the most comfortable thing is to bring a small stool and sit in the entire yard, watching the clouds in the sky first turn red little by little, and then darken little by little. The evening breeze blows, feeling a slight chill on my body, and all the fatigue of the day disappears.
The stars are twinkling , and the sound of insects penetrates the window screen
When it was dark, the night had completely descended and there was no light, but the moon had not yet come or risen, and the sky was filled with dense stars. Different from the few stars that can be seen in the city, there are really many stars in the countryside. They are crowded together and clustered together. Some stars are brighter and some are darker, as if someone sprinkled a handful of broken silver on the black velvet cloth. The frogs spontaneously started a concert in the field, making croaking sounds, which continued one after another; the crickets accompanied them in the corner, making a croaking sound, which was thin and crisp.
On the desk, in front of the window, the halo of the kerosene lamp was yellow and warm. Opening the window, the night breeze rushed in carrying the fragrance of rice flowers, mixed with the smell of earth. A few dog barks came from a distance, long and slow, highlighting the stillness of the night. On a night like this, I can think about anything and not think about anything. I just feel that the world is so big and I am so small, yet I am closely connected with every plant, every tree, every insect, every bird. Life turns out to be so simple and yet so abundant. I closed my eyes, pillowed on the tranquility of the village, and fell asleep slowly.
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