There was little rain this year, and there was not a single soaking rain in May. The weather is getting hotter. Hiding indoors all day, inhaling the cool air of air conditioning, feeling uncomfortable all over. Read not next book, hear not cicadas cry, idle, very bored.
The whole world was noisy and noisy, and even he could not sleep well in the morning. As soon as the sun rose in the east, peddlers shouted. Now people are trying to save effort, all installed small speakers, noisy you can not sleep well. It was even more lively after breakfast. You listen to: collect corn, fill liquefied gas, collect waste products, buy chemical fertilizers and pesticides, sell fruits and vegetables and so on. All sorts of things, lots of traffic, lots of competition. The flying dust on the road tells people that there are too many helplessness in this world.
Really stuffy uncomfortable, then remembered childhood summer vacation place. Go to the pond first, you can swim or enjoy the cool. Perhaps the heat took away my thoughts, where there is a pond ah, construction, land occupation, the former pond has been filled with familiar loess, leaving only a so-called small pit for people to put domestic garbage, the stench can be smelled far away, no wonder I can't hear the cheerful frog cry. I don't know where all these poor little creatures went.
The poplar grove not far from the pond was not what it had been. After subcontracting, some families have retreated to farming, others have not managed, and now they are scattered here and there. No wonder cicadas do not want to stay here.
All the good things in childhood are gone now. The orchard smelled of pesticides, and there were no thirst-quenching melons or crispy melons in the field. Sunset, it is difficult to see the curl of smoke, everywhere everything is wrapped in interests. The only thing I saw was the white smoke from the earthen kiln all day and all night, and the choking charcoal gas attacking the villagers who had lived together for generations. Hide and seek is very strange to children nowadays. Even watching movies has to wait until the end of the month, until those so-called celebrities who send culture to the countryside come to fake fake some irrelevant films.
All the noise, in flashy, gold worship reality, appears to be so boiling, so lively. But in a pure, good, watery mind, all this is a note announcing silence and death.
Summer in May, asleep!
A flash of lightning pierced the night sky, thunderstorms broke out, and it rained heavily. And I fell asleep in this deafening, frightened atmosphere. When I woke up, the rain stopped. Heaven is not proud to do, cloud wind to live, a curved shallow moon has quietly hung in the south sky. It is strange to say that after a rain, the small pond in the distance is already a frog drum burst, as if to tell people the difficulties of seclusion. Crickets and cicadas sing high and low, and I don't know where they came from all of a sudden.
A few barking, interrupted intoxicated thoughts, heart also with the summer of May, in this quiet night, beautiful music, wake up!
Author: Bauhinia
Post a comment