Always with excitement and an indescribable mood, I set foot on the winding gravel road in my grandmother's hometown, holding a handful of water in early spring, cold and sweet, and drinking with confidence. Deep breathing always seems to bring a fresh and sweet earthy taste. I can't spend sentimental New Year's Eve here, because I can imagine the excitement of New Year's Eve when I see all the doors are red. I once wrote an article "Fireworks", and I know very well that the fireworks on the third day of New Year's Eve can never compare with the fireworks on the third day of New Year's Eve. The red paper on the ground was peeled off by firecrackers, and along the way, it was like spreading a red carpet on the ground. There is always some smoke in the air, which smells good. Stepping on it, there is always a bulging voice, which is very soft, a bit like ignoring those poetic leaves in autumn and waiting for us all the way into grandma's house.
It's always very lively to celebrate the New Year at grandma's house, because there are many children in grandma's house, and all the children will come back for the New Year, no matter where they are, Shanghai, Xinjiang and Yunnan. . . . . . It is very lively for everyone to get together. There are friends I haven't seen for a long time: Tingting, Leng Yun and Xiao Chun. We are not much different in age, so we can get along well. Get together, there are endless words and endless stupid things.
We like to explore, and the continuous mountain forest is the most mysterious playground; We like to chase, the secret in the mountains, the tits that Yingying cries. . . . . . Whenever in the evening, when the clouds are clear, our party wears new shoes, like dragonflies, stepping over the stones in the pond and stepping on the muddy and overgrown field paths. My heart is pounding, as if waiting for the beginning of a mysterious relationship. One step at a time, I walked askew, and my nose was full of the unique soil of the mountain village and the smell of newly sprouted plants. It seems to me that there are only three seasons here, and there is no sign of winter. It's always green here. I'm afraid everyone who comes here will believe it. We just want to get close to the now deserted cobblestone beach and look for water. There are always some beautiful and unique stones on the cobblestone beach. We will give up halfway, look for stones and preserve them year after year. The cobblestone beach is lonely and empty. As you can imagine, before the flood, it was a shallow water area flooded by streams. Now that I think about it, it's really a pity. We have been walking along the beach. We walked for more than 20 minutes, and there was no one around. Everything was quiet. We saw the fine-eyed spring, clear and sweet. When you get to Xiaoshitang, you will come to an abrupt end, and then you will never feel anything when you go deeper. If the weather is fine, a group of us will pull up some withered weeds and broken trees on the mountain, set up a pot on the cobblestone beach and pour oil on it to start our "Spring Festival picnic". And the result? Still one after another, but eating that pile of eggs and chicken like coke, I still have the cheek to show my happiness and satisfaction. Of course, we are also very environmentally friendly. At the scene of the "crime", the water fell and fell, and I didn't forget to step on a few feet when I arrived.
At the same time, it is unforgettable to eat spring wine and set off the ancient philosophers. . . . . .
Put pen to paper, I have too much nostalgia for the Spring Festival, and I want to write too much. . . . . .