The river in my hometown has been dead for many years. Time is quietly burying its dry body. People's memory of it has been slowly stranded over the years.
In my memory, when I go back to my mother's house every year, I will choose the time when the flowers are in full bloom. This year is no exception. I always want to find the most beautiful picture of my hometown in this season.
Get off the car, a long absence of warmth coming, smelling the familiar taste of home, set foot on the footprints of relatives, the heart like the blue sky floating white clouds, lightly and comfortably floated into the embrace of the hometown.
There are green wheat seedlings growing on the endless Great Plains. Green like a tumbling sea, but also like a silent prairie. The golden rape flowers, occasionally embellished, such as the finishing touch, just right. I feel like I suddenly stepped into the fairy tale castle, so vivid that I never want to come out again.
You have to go through the river that you care about. In the distance, there was a disgusting smell so pungent that I almost suffocated. Footsteps began to become heavy, the good mood also came to an abrupt end, the bottom of my heart swept through waves of desolation. What kind of mentality should I use to face this dead river? Who will be responsible for its death!
It used to be like a meek dragon, stretching at the southernmost tip of its hometown, watching its fellow villagers day and night. Now, it has become a rotten coffin. It is filled with messy household waste and feces, as well as empty bottles and bags labeled with pesticides, all of which can be seen everywhere. All these sins come by accident, but they are inevitable. The dry and dead body of the river is saying nothing about what people owe it.
Do not dare to approach, for fear that the terrible status quo will flow into the floodgates of memory.
I use the tentacles of memory to extend to the colorful childhood, and the happy days come back like this. At that time, my parents worked hard in the fields every day, and I would drive a flock of white geese to the river for stocking. The grass seeds rising high in the green grass are the goose's favorite, and when they are full, they go down to the river to swim. At that time, I always held the injured goose and bathed it with this pure river water, hoping that it would get better soon. Fingers soaked in cool water, let those cute little tadpoles kiss my fingers and watch them play freely.
Will also be frightened by the sudden mother frog and run away. In this blue sky, green grass, clear water, pour into my infinite reverie, pick a wild rose to wear in the hair, with the clear river as a mirror, feel that he is the Snow White in the fairy tale. Lead my big white goose every day, meet the smiling face of morning glory, step on the shampoo of evening incense, and return with a full load along the place where the snail walks. Today, such a fairy tale world no longer exists, who pays for the childhood of today's children who are locked in the compound all day!
When I went back to my mother's house early in the morning, the day was still dim, my parents were already busy, and my father pushed two large baskets of vegetables to catch the morning market. Parents' garden is an organic vegetable garden, they have always adhered to the principle, no chemical fertilizers, no pesticides, as much as possible to let ordinary people eat easy vegetables. Mother said proudly that people in the city like our pollution-free vegetables, and every day those dads and mothers-in-law are waiting there early! Yes, when city people see green food, it's like seeing a savior, trying every means to spend money for their health. However, can you buy health if you have money? If we build a green dream together and contribute to our home, there may be a source of health everywhere.
My father was a soldier in the War to resist US aggression and Aid Korea when he was young, and later became the captain of a large rural collective for decades. For him, this hard-won understanding of life is more profound, and many people will never be able to perceive it. The river bank in his hometown once left the sound of his father's industrious footsteps. He led the villagers to build rivers, dig mud, and irrigate farmland. My father always said that this endless river is the lifeblood of our whole village, and our happy days have always been there. At that time, my father always sat under the willow tree by the river facing the sunset, taking a rest while cleaning up the dirt in his shoes, and the tools for his work lay quietly beside him.
Today, those tools have long been sealed with dust, and they have been replaced by large modern machines. Farming, fertilizing, spraying pesticides and harvesting are all one-stop mechanization. However, who would have thought that these advanced farming methods are secretly destroying the ecological balance in nature. All organic fertilizers were pushed into the river, and chemical fertilizers and pesticides became dependent on high products, spraying plants over and over again. In this age of material desires, people are only concerned about the benefits brought by those high-end products, which care about health and environmental protection. Sadly, human greed changed the law of the development of nature, personally buried their own happiness.
The ecological environment of the earth is the most basic guarantee for human survival. If we do not strengthen management and protection, there will not only be rivers that will die in the future. These terrible consequences should make us human beings reflect. Give the green back to nature! Taking good care of the natural environment is a sacred mission. We need to work together to create a green, healthy and beautiful home for our future generations.
Father is like this dry river, although he is old, he is still making the last effort. But this river has been robbed of all its power by people.
Author: fog and rain like smoke
Post a comment