Prose poem with the theme of beautiful Kwai Township and happy new society, 1500 words.

For decades, I have been wandering around the world. I have walked through fields, cities and many places.

Where is the land I come from? My hometown, where is my hometown?

I don't know.

/kloc-left Hangzhou at the age of 0/9. Xizi Lake, full of water and mountains, is my birthplace. Luoshe, a small town in the south of the Yangtze River 0/00 miles away from Hangzhou/KLOC, is my grandmother's home.

However, I am just a passer-by in Hangzhou, and my ancestral home is in Xinhui, Guangdong. I didn't go back to my hometown in Guangdong with my parents until I was 30. There are green rivers, dense sugarcane forests and mysterious and quiet banyan island in my hometown. When the sun sets, I see white storks and gray storks circling back to their nests with big wings and long necks. The sky above the huge banyan forest is covered with sunshine and birds are singing. That is the world-famous bird of paradise. Xinhui county is a sunflower town in the world. On the green water waves by the river, strings of slender boats are full of fragrant laurel leaves, which are heavy and gone with the water. ...

But my hometown belongs to me, but I have no sense of garden. Nobody knows me, and I don't really know anyone. I can't even speak a complete and authentic hometown. My father and I, who left home in our early years, are like outcasts in exile, looking for and identifying with the roots left by this land in a strange local accent.

Dreams that often appear in the lotus pond in the south of the Yangtze River, purple and sweet mulberries in the green mulberry garden in spring, golden and translucent grapefruit in autumn, sauce jiaozi and dried fish hanging all over the hall in winter and a pot of delicious cooked taro. ...

Summer vacation and winter vacation, take a small steam boat to my grandmother's house in Luoshe Town. There is a big stone bridge in the east of the town. In summer, many naked children jump into the river from the dock. This river is connected with the vast Luoshe ocean. I used to wash rice under the bridge. The bamboo basket was wet, and when it was fished out of the water, a small fish jumped on the pearl-white rice. ...

Grandma has passed away. Grandma took her hometown with her when she left. In fact, grandparents are not authentic Zhejiang people. I heard that my grandmother's ancestors were from Danyang, Jiangsu, and I don't know when she moved to Deqing Luoshe. I also heard that Luoshe was called Luoshe because there was a Luoyang immigrant's house in the early years. From this perspective, it is also difficult to verify the ancestral home of grandparents. What is my hometown, the Jiangnan town I dream of?

Therefore, there is a faint separation and suspicion about Hangzhou, which gave birth to me and raised me. Naturally, I like the tenderness and indifference of the West Lake, the green grass and intoxicating smiling flowers in the botanical garden in spring, the bamboo forest and the lush camphor tree in winter ... but they are just ribbons and decorations in my cradle. I appreciate them and praise them, but they don't belong to me. Every time I visit my parents in Hangzhou, in the noisy streets and lanes, the "strange smell" I bring from afar always makes me feel out of place with the warmth and humidity here. ...

Where the hell am I from?

More often, I will meditate in the distant ice and snow. Think of the dark blue Xiaoxing 'an Mountains shrouded in mist. Stepping into the deep mountains in knee-deep snow, the unfrozen mountain springs in the bushes tinkle all the way, singing and laughing, and occasionally warm spring water overflows along the slope, so the tower piers in low-lying areas are generally sealed by crystals, and you can see jasper-like grass under the ice. On a windless day in the mountains, a little clear snow floats gently and slowly in the quiet oak forest, which falls on the headscarf and does not melt, and soon shines on your shoulder. This is a gift from the Snow Queen. If you close your eyes, you can hear the sound of snowflakes kissing leaves. It was the first time in my 2 1 year-old life that I found the sound of falling snow, such as silkworms sipping leaves and babies sucking milk.

At that time, I lived in a tent, and the rough wood was burning in the furnace barrel all night, rumbling like a forest train or a tractor in a forest farm. It always comes from the foot of the mountain with the sound of cracking ice ... The morning in the forest is quiet and charming, the tip of the forest on the slope is rosy, lavender smoke fills the air, and there are ribbon-like footprints of unknown animals coming quietly at night in the snow in front of the door. Identify them carefully, like plum blossoms like willow tips, winding in the snowfield clearly and disorderly, disappearing into the depths of the forest. ...

Those mysterious forest residents gave me great kindness, which once made me feel whether I should stay here from now on.

Small footprints rise and fall on the boundless snowfield, just like our turbulent youth.

/kloc-left his birthplace in Hangzhou at the age of 0/9 and went to the distant and cold Great Northern Wilderness.

At that time, I missed my West Lake day and night, and my hometown was in the warm south.

But now I know that I have no hometown. We are always walking, sowing seeds that can grow all over the world while walking. We are satisfied with the status quo and take root; It's decided when you come. Wherever you go, it's home. We are like a group of nomads in the new era, a group of homeless immigrants with no home to return to. Maybe I have been to too many places and have too many second homes.

However, in the sultry and suffocating summer days in the city, I will still think of Yuan Ye in the north, which has been integrated into the land of our youth. Everything there is rough and simple. Twenty years of sun and moon have honed a delicate Jiangnan woman like me to be flexible and solid. In the future, I may continue to wander and find and create my own spiritual home in this extremely small world.