Cuckoo! Cuckoo! The loud cry of the cuckoo passed across the sky, and the time sequence of my hometown quietly left the wheat yellow season in May. I seemed to smell the familiar and cordial smell of wheat, coming from the fields and wheat fields of my hometown. Close my eyes and imagine that the golden rolling wheat waves under the blue sky surged to the horizon, magnificent and boundless.
The wheat harvest season in my hometown began to be prepared more than half a month before Grain in Beard. First, prepare the threshing field, clear out an idle open space, flatten it, crush it with mediocrity, sprinkle it with water evenly, and then sprinkle a layer of wheat chaff on it. After the next light rain, the sound of a leisurely rolling press sounded in the north and south of the village, which is like the small pass of a piece of music, singing and singing between the mountain villages. The bazaar is also busy, and there are more people selling wheat forks, wheat rakes and shovels. Sickles, grindstones and straw hats are the necessary tools and supplies for every family, and the wheat harvest season is a busy and tiring season.
The sickle opened, and I came to the mature wheat field with my parents. The air in the morning was a little cool, mixed with bursts of wheat fragrance. My parents were all good hands in the production team. They each picked up a few tracts of wheat and waved their sickles. It didn't take long to throw us out of the distance, as if the sickle they used was particularly sharp. After the sun rose, the heat wave enveloped the earth, and sweat fell quietly on their faces. It was only at this time that I deeply knew how to write the word hard. What I felt was tiredness and tiredness. The wheat dragon in front of me seemed endless and endless, but what I saw from my parents' face was the joy of the blooming harvest.
In the tiring and arduous wheat harvest process, sometimes there will be one or two interesting episodes, is cutting the wheat, do not know from that field out of a hare, the first discoverer shouted: rabbit! Rabbit! Catch the wild rabbit! Throw away the sickle and chase after the hare, and then many people nearby join in the pursuit of the hare. The rhythm of the wheat harvest suddenly stops in the field. People want to watch this interesting human-rabbit race. Dad never chases the hare at this time. He has his reason. How can a two-legged man run over a four-legged rabbit? If the result of the race between the real human and the rabbit is that the rabbit wins, its fast figure finally runs into the dense Reed marshes and the edge of the grooves covered with trees, and the people who come back empty-handed, talking and laughing, should exercise their bodies. What I hope most is that somewhere in the wheat field, we can cut out a litter of quail eggs, or a litter of pheasants that have just come out of their shells. Don't catch the same adult pheasant, even though it doesn't fly high or fast, and you'll never catch it. But he was tempted to chase it down, and finally came back empty-handed.
The best thing is that in the ground, there is not much water in the ditch, there are fish and shrimp swimming in the water, the people on the shore see clearly, roll up the trouser legs to catch the fish! At first, only a few of us children were caught, but later, several adults joined the ranks of catching fish, and we caught all the fish, including Loach, clam and snail, and then went to the ridge to share the spoils, and then a delicious dish was added to the table of each family.
In the process of wheat harvest, I have the biggest headache in the wheat field, which is also the main theme of the wheat harvest. After the harvested wheat is transported to the wheat field, it will be sunned on the wheat field while the weather is cool, and then I will find a tractor with iron to hit the field. After hitting the head, I will turn the bottom up with an iron fork to fight again. Tractors are the most popular this season. Many drying wheat farms are waiting to fight, and farmers follow the tractors.
After hitting the wheat field, pick the wheat straw to one side with an iron fork and pile it together with an iron fork. It can also be used as fodder for cattle and sheep. The remaining wheat bran and wheat are piled together. Take advantage of the wind to lift the wheat bran with a shovel and separate it from the wheat. If there is bad weather and rain, it will be a busy event. Every family will grab the market, stack the scattered wheat straw together and cover it with straw. Tired people, lying on the soft wheat straw, smelling the delicate fragrance of the faint wheat straw, feel that life is so full and happy.
Cuckoo! Cuckoo! Cut the wheat and cut the grain! The cuckoo is reminding me that the wheat harvest in my hometown is coming again. I can only see the large combine running in the wheat field of my hometown, the sickle and iron fork have withdrawn from the stage of the years, without the hardship and tiredness of the past, and without the passion of the past, as if I had taken a nap, the wheat harvest in my hometown was over, and the picture of waving sickles to cut wheat in the sun really seemed to be yesterday. However, I didn't have the chance to have a deep, tiring, contented and happy conversation with the wheat in my hometown. I only went to see it three times since I sowed the wheat seed. The first time was to see if it had all sprouted. The second time was to see if it had heading. The third time was to harvest it. Where it usually grows silently, and finally gave me heavy fruit.
That year we worked in a machinery factory in the south. When the wheat harvest season arrived, our partners asked for leave to go back to their hometown one after another. The boss did not understand that the round trip fee plus the salary during the leave period was enough to buy the wheat harvested. Even after the wheat harvest, we have to go home and have a look. How can we really integrate into the life of the city? The boss does not understand, we do not understand the minds of our group of people, out of the yellow land but can not give up the attachment to the yellow land, always set aside a time to look back at the hometown of the wheat field, watching is not only a persistent, grateful, or an emotion that should never be given up
I think our group of people are special! Can have the memory and emotion of the wheat harvest in the farming era, no matter how life changes, to be a faithful catcher of the hometown wheat field, kiss the fragrance of the hometown wheat field, I think I should keep this kind of memory and emotion
Author: the youngest in Yangdu
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