Homesick articles

I had a dream last night. There is no lie, no deception, no made-up story, no fiction, but a real dream. The protagonist in the dream is me and a forum. Forum is a family, and I am a member of this family.

Do you know this family? ! Do you still know you are a member of this family? !

Who is talking about me? ! No one will say that I am blaming myself. Yes! It's remorse and shame, more or less guilty, because it's irresponsible, because it's been away from home for too long.

That's it. That's how I blame myself in my dream. I have been blaming myself. It's as simple as that, with little content and no complexity, just like my life, simple. Dreams are the same, simple, like life, like me, that's enough.

When I wake up from my dream, my thoughts are still in the plot of the dream, thinking, thinking about the dream, thinking about the contents of the dream, like a movie film playback, then freezing a certain picture, and then thinking, thinking, thinking constantly, just like an old man sitting in a rocking chair in his twilight years recalling his first love.

Everyone who has experienced feelings has had their first love, and I have also had my first love. To be exact, my first love was a forum, the truest emotion in a virtual world-a dream, a sail.

Whether it is appropriate to regard a forum as my first love, I have no mind to verify its accuracy, because I know it is a dream, I know I am dreaming, I don't want to wake my dream, I don't want to complicate simple things, and if I want to verify something in my dream, I am really tired. The dream said that she told me herself in the dream, stroking my head and saying, if you are tired, take a rest. Really, I really feel very tired, really, I am really obedient to rest, sleepy, like a child, a very obedient and well-behaved child is sleeping quietly, and there is a feeling, a real feeling, that is, the feeling that a prodigal son who has been wandering for a long time has returned to his long-lost home, which is a practical feeling, feeling very warm, and then. Say whatever you want. In your own home, you are not an outsider, you are a member of this family, so I say, there is only one sentence, a simple sentence: it feels good to be home.

Close your eyes and sleep.

In the dreamland, at home, there is no noise, no disputes, only peace, and there is an indelible shadow, the shadow of the sail, which is the call of true feelings, and it is as simple as going home.

Go home. No matter how good the outside world is, there is no warmth of home.

Warm. Really, home is really warm.

It is snowing outside. This is a big, big snow. It is another winter. This is the second winter.

The next winter, it was snowing outside. The stove at home has been lit, which is very beautiful. The family drank tea around the stove and said the most intimate words. This feeling is really good, because of family, because of warmth, because of a concern, caring for relatives who are still wandering outside.

Close your eyes and sleep.

Homesickness in my dream. Because, it is another winter, a snowy winter, an unusual winter. This winter is the second anniversary of "You Meng Fan Ying" and also the second anniversary of ups and downs.

Anxious to return. The family is looking forward to their reunion anniversary.

In my sleep, the call in my ear is so clear. Go home, my family is waiting for you.

With my eyes closed, I can clearly see and see the stirring sail, which is the sailing boat going home.

Tired, tired, wandering for a long time, set foot on the boat home. The murmuring river carries the heart of a wanderer, anxious to return.

Tired, tired, sail home in a sailboat and sail to the quiet harbor of my hometown.

Nostalgia (original poem)

Homesickness-Fan Xiao

The sun rolled to the mountainside.

In the classification of yellow cattle

Tianyuan nanren

Full of warm sunshine

Crickets sing softly

An old house.

Ancient people

Home, which mountain is home behind?

When the spring breeze rises again

The birds on the branches are singing carefree.

Ah, it is a mature hometown!

I stood still, my eyes burning.

The sparkling spring washed the dust from the throat.

Bamboo sang the old ballad again.

Those calluses

Higher. ...

My daughter has more and more books. I'll find the old bookshelf and give it to her. The wife looked at it and smiled: "The family heirloom has been passed down from generation to generation." My father got this box from my grandfather. Now, for my daughter, there are at least four generations. Although the wooden box is an old wooden box, it is the only wooden box handed down by our ancestors.

The box is not big, but it is only 1 meter long, nearly 2 feet high and 1 many feet wide. Compared with the suitcase, it is small. Open the wooden box, the internal structure is like the pencil box used by primary school students before. The upper part is a movable inner box, which is divided into spaces with different sizes and shapes by three or two vertical and horizontal wooden boards. Common stationery such as pens, ink, paper, inkstones, rulers, gauges, triangular erasers and pencil sharpeners can be placed separately as required. Take out the movable inner box, which is where the books are put. Close the box, which happens to be the desk.

Each side of the wooden box is made of a whole Chongyang board, and the thickness is close to 1 cm. Without gaps, rain will never invade. If it contains water, I'm afraid it won't leak half a drop, and it can also be used as a basin. The box is not painted, and the background color is dark red, which is the true color of wood, but as time goes by, it is not so bright. Careful observation shows that the color of the texture on the chessboard is deep or shallow, and the shape is wide or narrow, which seems random, but in fact it is regular and rhythmic. Smell it, and the fragrance still exists. It is with this unique smell that moths dare not patronize. Chongyang tree grows slowly and its material is delicate and hard. It is for these reasons that the box is still intact.

Over the years, I have heard the name of "Chongyang Tree" countless times because of this wooden box, and I have deepened my memory of it on small square stools and chopping boards, but I have never seen the real Chongyang Tree. Sometimes, I will ask the old people curiously. They are always used to squinting and smoking. Facing the south, they took pains to tell me about the origin and glory of Chongyang Tree. Chongyang tree is not a local tree species. A long time ago, our people immigrated to this water town from Chongyang County. Grandparents came to the mud on the dock with Chongyang tree species, but only two trees survived at that time. A woman and a man, a left and a right, watch each other in front of the door. By the time my grandparents arrived, the tree was very old. How old is Gu Mu? No one can say for sure. It is said that the crown of each tree is half an acre and more than three feet high, and they can be seen dozens of miles away in Fiona Fang, but DBH is measured by the arms of five adults, and even the twigs are thicker than buckets. Because of these two ancient trees, our people's local reputation is also famous. Some people simply changed the original name of the pier to "Chongyang Tree".

I can't imagine what this tree looks like, and I can't know all the stories that happened under it. If the tree is still there, it must still have those indelible memories. It won't forget the white horse that once snuggled up to the boss He Long's favorite; I can't help but think of my chest cut by a white dog bayonet; I can't help but think of the coolness of pedestrians drinking water; I can't help thinking of the Cleisthenes sound when the curtain returns to the old cow. I can't forget the duet of magpies and pigeons on the branches, and the frolicking of boys and girls in the shade.

1954 cut down trees. There was a flood in the Yangtze River that year, and there was a lack of firewood on the embankment. Chongyang tree listened to people's call and stood by the Yangtze River, with scattered branches lined up and guarding for several kilometers. However, the rootless trees did not stop the wanton flood after all, and rolled along the Yangtze River with a grimace of a grin, crossed the earth embankment, roared all the way and rushed to their homes. Within the river bank, there is a piece of Wang Yang.

After the flood subsided, my grandfather and uncle spent three days together, digging up the stumps with shovels, axes and saws, and cutting them so that each household could get some boards or buy some necessary wood for their washed homes. That's when wooden boxes were made.

When the wooden box reached my hand, I left home to study. Father found a pole, one end is a cloth bag, which contains January's grain, and the other end is this box. Father raised his shoulder, bowed, gritted his teeth and stood up slowly. I asked my father if he was heavy. Do you want me to share some? Father just said that the hope in the wooden box was too heavy. In fact, I know in my heart that in that era of "raising chickens for oil and salt", the burden on my father's shoulders is definitely not just the two ends of this pole.

During my study, I learned more about Chongyang tree from professional classes: Chongyang tree was originally called Chongyang tree in biological classification, belonging to Euphorbiaceae, a deciduous tree, dioecious, as high as 10 m, with brown bark and longitudinal crack. Leaflets are oval or oval, narrow at the top, round or nearly heart-shaped at the base, with blunt serrations at the edges and smooth surface; Racemes, the fruit is spherical and berry-shaped, brown, and the seeds are oily and edible; Wood trees are hard and heavy, so they are good building materials. At the same time, according to the teacher, among the ancient trees in the south, this Shuang Ye tree is the most common one, which is often thousands of years old.

With this double ninth festival wooden box, feelings for my hometown and the hopes of my predecessors, I finished my studies. When I took the red diploma out of the wooden box and handed it to my father with both hands, I remember my father laughing. This smile is the happiest smile of my father in my memory. That kind of situation is still unforgettable.

Not long ago, I went back to my hometown and found a Chongyang tree in the miscellaneous forest behind my home! Trees grow out of cracks. Due to the oppression of the big tree, the trunk of Chongyang tree has become an inverted "L" shape, which looks more stubborn, persistent and energetic. The color of the surrounding leaves has long been dyed yellow-brown by autumn frost, and its shape has been torn to pieces by autumn wind, rolled down and scattered all over the floor. Chongyang tree is still standing, tenaciously supporting a green tree. Seen from a distance, this tree is obviously a flag standing upright in the wind. The wind, blowing, swaying from side to side, as long as the wind is slightly relaxed, the branches and leaves will return to their original positions. The shiny blades rub against each other and rustle, as if to comfort and encourage each other and resist the rustling cold wind.

This is the Chongyang tree in my heart! Not from memory, not from photos, not from parks and lakes. I can't help taking a step forward. At this time, the tree seemed very considerate, opened its arms and nodded and said, you are here!

Touching the trunk is still in its infancy, and the bark is so old. Is the uneven bark a history of your struggle against the wind and rain and your courage to stand out?

Originally, I wanted to pick up an axe saw and cut off the branches of some other big trees to make room for Chongyang tree, so that it could get enough sunshine and rain and grow rapidly. I didn't do it. There is only one reason: Chongyang tree is definitely not a yielding tree.