The mountain is not high, but the road is far away. The remote mountain village is his hometown.
There is a saying in my maiden’s house: “Daughter’s family never marries in the mountains, and they never marry the polder.” But since I met him, I have never thought about how much the place across the mountains and the water is from me, our “human wealth” They are far away there, and they have their own small world. Parents are there, every year, festivals, courtesy, filial piety, and do the duty of the Son of Man; parents go, three old brick houses, dilapidated, collapsed, and gradually disappeared into the wind and frost of the years, we and our descendants will also leave that seat The small mountain village goes farther and farther. However, a recent incident made me understand: no matter how far we go, we have never walked far away with that small mountain village, they are still pulling and pulling, and lotus roots are broken…
One day, I had gradually forgotten that small mountain village, and suddenly received a call from my relatives, saying that my hometown was going to be demolished, and asked me to send the relevant certification materials to enjoy the benefits of housing sharing. Asked the reason: the ancestral household, the mother is still there. For this incident, it was purely an accident other than an accident. I have long been away from my natal family. As a woman, the place where I was born and raised me has become a distant symbol. But the word ancestral home, just a little call, it took me back easily, and there was no turning back.
Ancestors, still living, living for generations. In ancient times, those celebrities who were far away from their hometowns and were doing business abroad as officials were old and sick, and wanted to “slave the old and return home” and “sick the sick and return home.” “Shi Shuo Xin Yu· Jian Jian” records: “Zhang Jiying opened Qi Wangdong Cao Yue, in Luo, seeing the autumn wind, thinking about Wu Zhongzhang, Zhuxian, and perch, saying: Life is so expensive, how can you detain Thousands of miles, in order to be a lord?” Then he abandoned his official and returned to her homeland. Yu Shenxing, a scholar from Dongge University of the Hanlin Academy in the Ming Dynasty, returned to his hometown in his later years and lived in Yujia Village beside Hong Fanchi under Yuncui Mountain. I read books and books every day, and the famous book “Gu Shan Biao” was completed at that time.
Reading in free time, even more nostalgic poems on the paper. Xue Daoheng’s poem “People’s Day Thinks Back”: “After people return to the wild geese, their thoughts are in front of the flowers”; Liu Zongyuan’s “Looking at the Mountain with the Master Hao and Sending His Parents to Beijing” “Looking at the hometown”; and the poem “Zi Ye Ge” by Li Yu, the queen of the Southern Tang Dynasty: “The dream of the old country is back, and weep with tears.” Toward the east.” Yu Guangzhong, a famous modern poet, “Nostalgia”: “Nostalgia is a shallow strait, I am here, the mainland is there.”
The ancients and modern people, thinking in their minds, dreaming in the night, and the homeland and homeland described in the pen, the hometown is a feeling of reluctance, a peaceful and peaceful place, and a dream land for the journey of life.
From the time of memorizing, every year after the Spring Festival, the middle-aged men in the village took their bags away from their loved ones and went out to do craft work. They moved away from their hometowns and traveled to the north and south of the motherland. They were left to cultivate this land. woman. In the early 1990s, young women in the village also joined the ranks of working in the city. Many of the land on which ancestors depended for survival had been abandoned, because no matter how hard the land is all year round, they can only get enough food and clothing. One after another, they went to study in a foreign country and settled down; some daughters married directly to other places; some sons bought houses in the city to settle down. The people in the village no longer depend on the harvest on the land. The once prosperous and prosperous mountain village gradually became prosperous.
I often think that in the past, when productivity was so low, people in the village could live and work in their hometowns, and did not want to leave home. It also confirms the saying: “Are you beautiful in your hometown, or not in your hometown.” But now? Why do you work so hard one by one, take it for granted, and then look back? Is it really so magical to pursue the economy? People’s requirements for higher and more beautiful life can only be realized in other places?
From ancient times to the present day, what the poet wrote and what the scholar read in his mouth is still nostalgic. But now, how could it be another situation? The folks said no to the hometown where they lived and raised me. Is this social progress or a decline in people’s ideology? Ancient nostalgia, passed down from generation to generation, will it really become a permanent memory of people?
At the age of 18 years old, impulsive and reckless, the stronger I also poured into the sea of the city with the flow of people. Before leaving, there was no reluctance, only rejection, I did not want to let that thing called tears flow down, wet the courage that finally accumulated. Walking out of the village, under the old locust tree at the head of the village, I turned around, closed my eyes, and pressed my hands tightly against the beating chest, silently promised a fairy-tale dream. At that time, I always felt that I was a stranger in the city. Every time I go home, I step on the soft soil, smell the smell of the country, eat the food my parents have harvested from this land, and the simple country sounds and feelings of my neighbors, my heart will always be inexplicably warm and kind. I am like a fish, although I have traveled thousands of miles, but from time to time I have chosen to migrate and come back here.
Later, he became a family in the city, raised children, lived here, made friends, and entertained; from a family living in a ten-square-foot dormitory to a spacious and bright suite. Walking on the hustle and bustle of the city, blending into the colorful city life, I gradually became familiar with the environment and became a part of the city. The city was regarded as a “home”, and in my hometown, the place where I was raised seemed to be a post. Every time I came and went in a hurry, even if I stayed for one night, and occasionally stopped for a while, I still remembered the city s home. In my dream, I only feel that I am a guest. The mountain breeze makes people sleepless, and only makes his hometown his hometown.
I remember when my son was a child, we went to my hometown in the mountains once. After eating, my son kept humming to go home because he had the habit of sleeping after dinner. The mother-in-law on the side heard, and said with a smile, “This is your home! I’ll make the bed for you to sleep.” The son said inexplicably, “This is not my home, my home is in the city.”
The temporary office was set up in an abandoned public house behind the village. Outside the courtyard, various vehicles were parked. People who work, you come and go, and there is no end to it. I stayed aside quietly. The familiar faces in front of me were bright and vicissitudes, and many of them could not be restored to their old days. The carving knives of the years have impressed everyone deeply and deeply on the face of everyone. Regardless of age or sex, regardless of gender, regardless of price.
I walked out of the yard and set foot on the field path behind the village. I walked over the land I once walked over and over again. Suddenly I realized that years can urge our face, but it can’t wipe away the feelings of the land. That is the feeling of rooting into the land, and the indelible attachment in the bones. Traveled all over the river, from north to south, inside and outside the Great Wall, and I looked back suddenly. My roots are still here. Whether you come back or not, it is here waiting for you and miss you. At that moment, my eyes were tearful. I only know what is the root and what is the pulse. What is shadow, what is heart.
In the process of modernization, my ancestral home has come over step by step, and the earth-shaking changes have already occurred. However, the land is still that piece of land, and the crop is still that piece of crop. On the land, you can grow wheat or peanuts; you can grow rice or vegetables; you can build rural houses or build urbanized tall buildings; you can engage in agriculture or industry. This piece of land, blindly left to people to set up, has never been silent. It is hard work to complain, to open up the heart and let people get what they want. Just like a silent wise man, just wait and see, not participate in the comment. Always do root cause and execute root mission.
They all said: “Parents are here, there are still places in life, parents go, and life is only home.” This piece of land nurtures us and is a parent who does not ask us to return. After demolition, the land is gone, and this rural road no longer exists. Do we still have a way back?
The demolition and resettlement project has a very humane and temperature regulation: the house has been demolished and the land has been requisitioned, but a plot of land has been circled behind our villages and used as a cemetery. Every family can get a piece . I remembered: On the hillside in front of the small mountain village, a piece of cemetery was arched, which is one by one clan. The tombs of the cemetery are all facing southwest, northeast of the tomb, the tomb of the previous generation is facing the tomb of the next generation, and the tomb of the next generation is next to the tomb of the previous generation. “” means a successor. In fact, no matter whether I admit it or not, whether it is in my heart or not, here is his root and my final destination.
Some people say: “The way back to our hometown is difficult. We can’t go back.” I thought: We all grow out of this land, just like the grass and crops in the field. As long as our ancestors are there, our roots are there, and the road back home will not be bumpy or difficult, nor will it be far away.
Nowadays, how many people in the city say goodbye to the dwellings in the city and return to live in the country. Is this people’s ideas progressing, or is it a persecution of the situation? In those days, after many hardships, we set up our own home in a city that did not belong to us. Nowadays, we live in peace in the city, but we are thinking about fleeing the so-called strange homeland. How should we explain this? Is it true that the word “nostalgia” really has such a magic power?
I can’t figure it out. I can’t figure out what I can’t figure out. Let it go. In our life, and let it go. Fortunately, the village is still there, the village road is still there.
Country road, how beautiful and warm. Let our minds be more open-minded, return home, you can return home, you can also return home!
Although his hometown is good, his nostalgia is also strong. Song Shi’s Su Shi’s “Ding Feng Bo” wrote: “This heart is at home in my heart.” Such is the situation, so is the situation, do you need to be so tangled?
No matter the country road, return home, as long as there is still a gaze direction, the return of the eyes will not be blurred, and the pace of the return will not hesitate…