Field blowing

The day before yesterday, my mother said to me: the small pool beside the ground is full of silt. You can dig it when you are free. I replied casually: Oh, I see. My mother was just like this. She was over sixty years old, and she got up early and came back late. She liked to work in the field and plant some side dishes. She was not tired and very comfortable. Seeing that the vegetables she planted were ripe, the old man has a pleasant feeling of harvest. Regardless of hardship, no complaints or regrets, consciously live a full life. In the morning, after breakfast, I walked to the field alone with a spade. Along the way, I watched the green crops flying in the wind. I remembered that when I was a child, I chased and played with my friends in the field and got close to the soil in spring again and again with bare feet. Although the soil was still very cold, the cold air rushing upward along the foot has a biting feeling, but there is still unspeakable happiness. After a while, when I came to the ground, a gust of wind rose, but I saw the wind rolling the wild field and exposing the heavy fireflies to the grass. I felt a little cold, it was May Day, and in the low mountains, the moon was still weak in the morning, in this warm and cold spring morning. I began to dig the silt. Soon after, I felt hot. I took off my clothes and barefoot, and had the closest contact with the mud again. Holding a handful of soil and smelling it under my nose, I felt the Fragrance Flowing into my lungs. The fragrance of soil rippled all over my body. My trembling hands shook off the blue and yellow ground, and startled the charming warbler perched on the branches, just crying. The mud Ridge extends far away, and an old man sits quietly on the land not far away. The old man held his hands around his knees, holding a cigarette in one hand, slowly lifted it to his mouth, took a deep breath, and slowly put it back to his knees. His eyes looked straight at the field, with his hoe lying horizontally under his ass. Through the vicissitudes of time, the old man has been gray, and the wrinkles on his forehead have bent like Ravines. At this moment, the old man squinted his eyes eagerly and stared at the front attentively. Hello, old man, what are you looking? I sat down beside him, afraid of being surprised by him, and asked softly, “the wind of spring, the old man, without thinking, even had no time to take out the cigarette that had been put out in his mouth. I couldn’t help stunned by the wind of spring? A little meditation, yes, the old man turned back, turned his face, loosened his hands on his knees, threw the cigarette in his mouth, and saw that I was still stunned, then he nodded slightly at me and said with a smile, “the wind in spring is good! Is there any difference between spring wind? I still puzzled? Bewildered asked. In fact, the wind itself is no different. The difference is just your mood in spring. The old man took a breath and said, “in the environment full of love, the wind in spring is not frivolous or irritable. It is gentle and beautiful, and can urge the new Green of life, can dissolve the frozen heart. After a pause, the old man continued: in the mood full of resentment, the spring wind is steep and cold, which makes you off guard, but that is the real spring wind, just like nothing in life is eternal, the real world is changeable. The old man said and pointed at the crops in the field: just like them, they kept twisting their bodies in the spring breeze. Is they grateful or struggling and resisting?. Yes, everything has its unusual rules and opportunities, and nothing can be ignored. Even if everything in the world is like this, then not all things in life should be revealed, sometimes what I endure is more inestimable depth! Looking at the old man, thinking about what he said made me respect the old man who looked inconspicuous. The old man not only had such meticulous thoughts, but also had unique wisdom and understanding, he is not like a farmer at all, but he is a real farmer, a simple and healthy old farmer! The spring wind blows from the fields, gentle and gentle, peaceful and free. It blows across the road, across the river, across the crops, it blows past me, blowing my hair, my clothes were blown away, my heartstrings were pulled out, and my feeling of joy gradually began to fly with the wind.

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