Into the old house!
The countryside old house will be demolished before the reconstruction of a weekend rest day, with a mixed feelings, if lost mood I returned home again, walked into the old house……In front of the old house, the two local dogs lay idly and kicked back and forth with their legs. My coming was nothing to them.The lock on the old door was rusty and cold. It had not been opened for a long time.Open the door, the sudden startled pigeons flapped in groups to fly away, gray pigeon excrement made windowsill and steps a messy, dirty.The overgrown yard reminded me of the unkempt, unkempt beggar by the roadside.The old pomegranate tree that my mother planted with her own hands gaped open year after year, waiting forlornly for the owner who came to pick and taste but never knew when to return home.The water cellar tray was covered with green moss, and the unused tin bucket tied to a rope lay upside down beside it. The kitchen tank must have been empty, too.Pacing in the courtyard, childhood mother’s scolding and brother, sister’s frolic sound from time to time in the ear echo.Grandma’s dusty spinning wheel sat silent in its corner, and had not creaked for twenty or thirty years.In one corner of the upper room, shovels, hoes, wooden forks, carts, and cement cabinets for storing wheat were neatly placed.In the back yard, coarse jujube trees stood erect and obstinately, and the ground was covered with dried jujube leaves that had not been picked up.In the middle of the day, the muddy courtyard walls and painted doors and Windows shone with yellow light.No cocks barking, no cattle and sheep screaming, Lao Wu like a concentration of meditation of the old monk.The old house under the setting sun, like a bony, unhappy old cattle tired to crawl on the ground, the ribs of the body clearly visible.Uninhabited old house is like being drained dry blood general, desolate, cold, lonely, lack of reiki, less lively, not prosperous.The memory of the old house bearing the number of good times of the story, the wind and rain of the old house engraved with the number of vicissitudes of suffering mark.Time series change, through the wind and rain, from new to crumbling, from full of spring to haggard, the old house is getting old day by day, and gradually transformed into a monument in our hearts.Walking into the old house, I feel more and more that the old house and my grandmother is as kind and amiable, we have become another family member in the hometown.The writer Anli wrote in his article “True Hometown and Hometown in literary sense” : Hometown is the place where life is bred, where life starts, and where spirit sprouts.In my hometown, hometown is in my eyes;In the distance, hometown in the heart, in the dream, in memory, in memory.The old house is the place where I was born, the place where I started from shanshan to leave the mulberry, and the place where I refined my mind and enterprising spirit.The old house is my root, is my soul, is my soul habitat, is the place where I dream of a lifetime.White hair high hall wanderer dream, castle peak old house hometown heart.The old house is the harbor, is the paradise;Is the return of the happy place, is to leave the reluctant place.The old house is always in my heart, in my dreams, in my memory, in my memory.The old house is a spring, always gurgling in my eyes.I beat on the lock of the gate, and the clatter of the lock beat on my heart like a heavy fist of memory…(Author: Pei Jianhong, Heyang County Supply and Marketing Association)