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Anonymous users2024-02-15When the key of the season opens the door to autumn, the autumn wind blows, and a kind and familiar fragrance blows to the face, with mellow heat, into the heart and spleen, and echoes in the human organs for a long time. This is the aroma of rice, which is unique to the ripening period of rice, just like the first fragrance that wafts out of the pot when the freshly cooked new rice is unveiled, and anyone who smells it will feel very cordial and warm.
Growing up in a farmhouse, I had a deep affection for rice from an early age. Autumn has arrived, the rice is also ripening, those hard millet quietly turn yellow in the sun, the strings of heavy ears carry the hopes and dreams of farmers for a year; The golden rice fields ripple gently in the breeze, they seem to show off their maturity and beauty, and as those glittering rice grains are harvested, they are fragrant, and the autumn breeze fills the whole field and fills the season.
The rice is ripe, and the countryside is boiling. People find sickles, carry farm tools, walk back and forth between the ridges, even children follow the adults, help deliver the cut ears of rice, do what they can, the fields are full of lively and busy scenes, the joy of the harvest is soaked in people's hearts, so that the spicy sun can not resist their enthusiasm.
When I was a child, I used to bounce behind my mother barefoot. Early in the morning, when the dew has not disappeared, come to the edge of the rice field, along the way the fragrance of millet lingers on us, let you take a deep breath and take a shallow breath can not be shaken, now in retrospect is so relaxed, that is a kind of labor warmth and joy, can breathe this fragrance in the rice field is happy, it can make an impetuous mind calm down, but unfortunately I was too young to experience this tranquility and happiness. In the face of the dragonflies flying up and down, and the butterflies flying left and right, I showed a strong interest, and as we approached, the little frogs jumped into the field one by one, hitting the rice plants and shaking up a layer of waves happily.
A dragonfly fluttered on my sleeve, and I gently caught it, its transparent wings and yellow-green waist, fluttering on my fingers, looking panicked, and I let go of it to see it fly back to the rice plant in a hurry. Enough to play, while the adults are not paying attention to me to pick up the yellow and green ears of rice, gently rub, blow off the husk, a grain of crystal clear new rice left in my palm, the grains are very full, shiny, it is gratifying. Then, I took out a few and threw them into my mouth and chewed them slowly, although they were not very tough, but they were full of flavor and some sweetness.
Time has passed, and those good times of walking on the field path, smelling the fragrance of rice, watching dragonflies, frogs, and harvesting rice have become a memory. After years of leaving my hometown, I still miss the autumn of my hometown and the sultry fragrance of rice.
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