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Beautiful prose-miss the town
Every time I go back to my hometown, I always look out of the window early and always tell the driver in advance, must I? In a small town? I stopped the car for fear of sitting too far, because I was immersed in memories of the town. But when I really went to the town and looked at this shabby and narrow town, I always had a lot of thoughts, and my mood was hard to calm down, feeling the ruthlessness of time, the shortness of time and the changes of life.
This town used to be vibrant and prosperous. The wave of urbanization has made this place look decadent and faded. You see, there are police stations, supply and marketing cooperatives, grain depots, post offices, credit cooperatives and grain depots in the north of the city; Forestry station, Zhennan health center and veterinary station. Now, all the rebuilt ones have been demolished, and there is not even a house number. Iron shops and tailor shops have long since disappeared, and some small shops are so simple that they don't even have names. Although the town is small and shabby, it is a household name in Fiona Fang.
I lived in a village not far from the town until I was seventeen. As we all know, the town will rise and fall sooner or later. Even the memories left in the depths of memory are so deep and unforgettable. Although the town is a bit backward, it is small and simple. No one said it was right or wrong. Without it, people left some decent cultural heritage. But even so, as a hometown person, there are still? Is it beautiful, hometown water, kiss or not, hometown people? Feeling, and with the change of time and years, this feeling is more and more lingering in the depths of the soul.
Sometimes you stand at one end of the town and shout, and the other end of the town can hear you clearly. Is there really? Whistling with the wind, the sound does not add to the disease, and the smell is obvious? The feeling.
? Things are people, not everything. If you want to talk about the past, you should shed tears first. ? The town evokes my infinite yearning for childhood memories.
Once, I pestered my father who didn't come home often, holding his father's hand and clamoring for sugar at the door of the food store. Of course, loving my father will not let me down. When the sugar was not weighed, he reached into the scale and began to stuff it into his pocket. There are also embarrassing situations in which the waiter smiles at his father without peeling the candy paper.
I'll never forget pestering my mother to buy oil cakes at the only oil cake stand in town. The smell of oil is far away, and the whole town can smell it. Especially in the oil cake stall, the Hui aunt makes oil cakes quickly, puts round dough into boiling oil, sinks and floats again. Moistened by boiling oil, the round cake became round for a while. The color is also from milky white to light yellow until golden yellow, which makes people look pleasing to the eye.
Look at others, you buy one by one, I don't understand. I have a posture of sitting on the ground and not buying, forcing my mother to have no choice but to buy less oil and salt to satisfy my desire to eat oil cakes. Now that I think about it, I'm afraid I can't find any reason to be interested in oil cakes except the poor living conditions at that time.
I once remembered that I was absent from class at the town cultural station because I watched the TV video Huo Yuanjia. After being known by the teacher, I was asked to go home and invite my parents, and I was almost punished by my mother with a broom. I remember watching an open-air movie in the town square at night and once overslept. When I woke up, I found it was dark around. I had never been in another village. At the same time, I cowered and curled up in a corner of the stage in the town square and spent a poor night.
I will never forget the tragedy that happened on the old bridge in the town, a past I will never forget.
An old man was driving a donkey cart and carrying mountain products. When he passed the old bridge, a car happened to pass by. Perhaps the driver thought that the old man's donkey cart was blocking the way of the car and honked the horn several times. Perhaps because the horn sounded so loud, he was shocked by the donkey, and even the man and the donkey jumped into the river without railings. At this time, the old man passed away. The donkey broke his neck and lay on the beach. When my mother and I followed the crowd to the old bridge where the accident happened, we saw not only people talking about the fair, but also old people lying on the flat ground covered with clothes and donkeys who died not far away. This is also the deepest sadness left by the town. Later, I heard from my mother that the old man's wife lost her dependence and hanged herself a month after the old man was buried.
Now, the old bridge that I don't know when it was built has long been demolished, and a wide and flat new bridge is built next to it. That kind of tragedy will never happen again.
In the past, clear water flowed all year round, and the rainy season was even more spectacular. Unfortunately, now the river has dried up and the floodplain has been developed into a piece of vegetable garden. Some even grow crops, even trees and build houses.
Small towns gather together, and roads become streets, with colorful daily necessities, fruits and vegetables, livestock and farm tools on both sides. It feels like a town party day is a hodgepodge. When there are many people, they pile up and can't even move if they want to. Sometimes people shout to move, but they can't move, so they have to wait patiently. I can't stand my temper, some swear, and my expression is deeply fixed in my mind.
The place where animals are traded on the market day is on the beach in the northeast of the town. There are cows, donkeys, sheep and pigs. Animals have all kinds of expressions, some happy and some unhappy. The happy one is probably that they have long been dissatisfied with their master's abuse and are eager to find a new home. Unhappily, they knew that their master was going to sell him, mutter, pee and get back at his master. The animal seller sat there in no hurry. The northwest of the town has become the world of livestock, and the donkey barks at the sheep and the pig barks, which has become a concerto.
The shops on the street are not much better, buying brick tea for the elderly, making clothes for children and so on. Daughters-in-law buy needle and thread, girls buy stick ointment, and of course, some people buy oil, salt, sauce and vinegar like their mothers. A narrow shop is crowded with people coming in and out.
All kinds of tools in the street, hoes, shovels, sickles, plows, rakes, hoes, hoes, backpacks, hoes, dustpans, baskets, are all. The raw material store is surrounded by people who buy fertilizer. Of course, it is also necessary to buy some tobacco leaves for home cigarettes. I've never seen that man buy clothes, shoes and hats. He dresses like that all year round. In their view, he seldom goes out of this town all the year round, and it is too wasteful to wear new ones. You might as well leave them to your wife and dolls. It makes people feel sad in simplicity
Of course, if we want to say that the town is the most lively, we have to start with the commodity exchange meeting in the 1980s. At that time, the town was really lively and prosperous. The dusty Shaanxi Opera began to perform, and not only invited the county troupe to perform. Township governments and cultural stations organize rural cultural performances. Ever disappear? Shadow play? Art has also risen quietly, enriching the amateur cultural life of small town people. Cultural revival also plays a decisive role in the economic prosperity of the town. Because the commodity exchange meeting has also promoted the circulation of commodities in the town, the town has also become the distribution center of Fiona Fang Bailey commodity trading, attracting vendors from surrounding areas to do business.
Although the townspeople, like the people of the whole country, have just experienced hunger and material deprivation, as well as mental trauma. But everyone is still bathed in the new atmosphere brought by the spring breeze of reform, and the town is full of vitality through this spring breeze. Since then, this town has entered its most active and prosperous period.
Stars move, seasons change, time flies, and years cycle.
Nowadays, even if we catch up with the past party days, it is still deserted. A dozen vendors put sacks, cartons and some sundries along the street. This is the party day now, and this is the party day I dreamed of in the past.
A few days ago, I saw a picture work of a netizen, and quoted Feng Jicai, a counselor of the State Council, which is worth pondering. In the past 10 years, 80 ~ 100 natural villages disappeared in China every day. ?
Seeing this passage, I don't want to mention whether it is true for the time being. According to the present situation of the town and the pictures I saw, what will the countryside in China look like in a few years? Isn't the village like a village? Are those rural people who squeeze into cities to make a living, and they have no final destination when they are old?
Netizen said:? Many once prosperous mountain villages failed to resist the impact of urbanization. Young people flocked to cities to make a living, and families moved out of villages. Many deserted courtyards in the village are covered with wormwood more than one person high, which is desolate. ?
In fact, the pictures taken by netizens are not far from their own towns and villages, and the villages in some towns and villages are strikingly similar to what netizens said. Is it inevitable? Is this a trend? I can't say for sure.
Look at the town now. After the shop with blue bricks and green tiles and a slope of water was transformed into a two-story dual-use room, I felt that I lost the solemnity of the old shop. In the past, the bustling market people seemed to be hiding, and there was nowhere to find them. Only scattered idle people are wandering in the street. In front of the shop, there are no idle people to chat except the owner, and customers seldom shop.
I think, perhaps the migration in recent years has taken away the excitement of the past, or perhaps the mountain here has lost its attachment without the support of people. They abandoned the inheritance left by their ancestors one after another, and lived in birdcage-like buildings with their wives and daughters with longing for the city, feeling the high-rise buildings and bustle of the city.
I don't understand either. When did the mountain farmers who may often go out but never leave here leave their old houses and old people here? Is there anything more important than family besides survival?
Looking at the old man hunched in the street, leading cattle to pick grass, pushing rickshaws and carrying harvested crops, my face was full of helplessness, loneliness, loneliness and vicissitudes, and that weather-beaten expression deeply touched my nerves.
I bypassed the back of the shop because I peed, and saw the old house that used to smoke, but now it has become dilapidated, which makes people worry whether it can withstand the erosion of wind and rain. If it weren't for the town planning, two-story commercial and residential houses were built on the street to cover up these dilapidated old houses, would the appearance of the town make those rural parents feel even worse?
Perhaps in the future, like other villages, the town will gradually decline, even be abandoned, shrink to the size of an ordinary village, and even disappear from people's sight.
Nevertheless, I still think this town is beautiful, beautiful. Its beauty is not only reflected in its quiet, mellow, simple and beautiful, but also in its brilliant temperament, simple folk customs and profound cultural accumulation that have been baptized by time and years.
I have feelings for the town. I miss its past scenery and hope that it will have a bright future and will not decline and wither for various reasons.
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