Water prose

Children who grew up in the countryside tore open their cotton-padded jackets with childhood memories, and things overflowed on their chests. There are countless flowers, birds and grass, among which there must be water. For me, water is the most advanced and vivid. Those rainwater, streams, rivers, well water, snow water and pond water are dazzling, bright, irritable, cool, sweet, bitter, soft and hard. Many feelings haunt me, impact me and pour on me, making my thoughts light and shallow, serious and serious.

There are many ways to receive and contact water in life; My feelings for water are naturally mixed, and the most prominent feeling is awe. Awe comes from certain rituals and procedures.

During the Chinese New Year, it is usually around four o'clock in the morning, and my mother wakes me up. When I got dressed and walked out of the house, the chilly feeling was like a high wall on me, which made me breathless and I couldn't help shivering. But it will be all right soon. I know that my mother asked my eldest son to do something important with her, which contained some kind of sustenance. The sky is dark, only in the distance, on the backs of those mountains, some green light looms; Nearby, I only saw some trees hugging themselves and standing hard; You can also see sun Guping and a gray face. Usually at this time, how dare a kid like me go out? It's terrible, it's terrible! My mother is by my side at this time, but my heart is very stable. Mother walked in front with a small bucket and a bundle of things, and I followed with a kerosene lamp. The kerosene lamp is covered with a glass cover with a drum to prevent the big and wet wind: the flame of the lamp is bigger than peas, and a large yellow light swings in front of me. Mother's figure was cast in front of her eyes, dignified, tall and silent, drifting all the way through bamboo forests, vegetable gardens and dark and silent snow. The whole village was so quiet that even the dogs fell asleep in the New Year's wishes, and they didn't want to move their throats. Of course, when my mother and I are walking on the road, there will still be a very crisp sound, creaking, creaking. This is the rupture of thin ice, a lazy moan. I have a feeling that this is some kind of scene drawn in the picture book Liaozhai. Although it is quiet, there is no need to be afraid. I smelled it carefully, and it seems that there are still some scents getting closer and closer.

A few minutes later, we came to the well by the pond, which is the only well in the village. Old people say it has a history of more than 200 years. I stood ten feet away and watched my mother's movements: she took out three incense sticks, put them in the loose soil by the well, struck a match to light the incense, and three wisps of light smoke curled up; She lit a pile of paper money and put it in front of the incense. The fire licked her tongue like a few skipping chickens. She knelt down and bowed to the well three times. Her forehead must have hit the ground because there were three "flapping" sounds. Then, she folded her hands and muttered quickly. On weekdays, my mother's words are easy to understand, but I didn't catch a word at this time. Mumbling for more than two minutes, my mother stood up and scooped up a bucket of water in the well. Well water must be full, a spoonful is enough. We started to walk back. I walked in front and my mother carried water behind. I try to walk as fast as I can, lest my mother get tired of carrying water. It doesn't really matter. I can't hear the water swaying. My mother is full of energy and works in the production team. She gets the same work points as a strong man every day.

Is this a ceremony? I didn't understand it when I was a child, but now I think it must be. I asked my mother why she got up so early. She said that if you want to get the first bucket of water in the new year, you must be diligent. First of all, everything will be fine. I also asked, what did you say at the well? She said that there lived a fairy in the well, and asked her to bless the peace. I asked again, you can worship God at home. How many gods can you worship? She didn't give me a definite answer. She only said that there are many babies in Mo Wen. People grew up drinking water and have no respect for water. They will get boils, get sick and can't be cured. She also said that you should be honest about many things in your heart and don't let it go, because it won't work. I dare not ask again.

Decades have passed, and the scene of taking well water with my mother is vivid: her pious appearance, her very serious manner, her clean and unhurried movements. Now the countryside is drinking tap water. My mother really didn't do that ceremony, but I know that for many years during the Spring Festival, my mother always received the first bucket of water from the well. On the morning of the first day of the new year, we wash our faces and gargle with this fresh spring water, and then eat the rice boiled with this water, as well as bacon, eggs, winter bamboo shoots, tofu, sauerkraut and so on. The atmosphere is really delicious, very happy, very happy. All the unhappiness of the past year has run away, and the whole family is flushed and imagining an infinitely beautiful year.

Now, my mother and I occasionally talk about getting water. The wrinkles on her face immediately became very vivid, and some strange brilliance bloomed. I understand that this ceremony of fetching water naturally belongs to superstition and a wonderful and mysterious precipitation in my mother's heart. I dare not say, nor can I say. After all, I am the biggest fool in the world.

As soon as the cuckoo calls, the season begins to be busy. The cuckoo's crow always seems a little lonely, and it is rare to hear the call for friends and chorus. Moreover, you always feel that the voice is flying in the air, not stopping somewhere, always wet and full of sadness. In this way, during the day, I heard the sound of wild birds volley, and Shan Ye flashed more and brighter light; At night, when I hear cuckoo calls in the distance, the air seems to be getting more and more chaotic, and the night in the village is a sticky soup.

There is no doubt that the cuckoo's cry is a signal that his father is soaking seeds to raise seedlings.

One morning, the weather was fine, and every ray of sunshine washed itself clean. Father began to do seed soaking homework. He first put the rice seeds into sacks, and then carried the sacks to the pond. Father looked around and motioned for our brother and sister standing on the shore to be quiet. There is an accent here. According to the tradition left by our ancestors, children can't watch seed soaking, but they will laugh and chase each other. In the future, birds will peck around in the rice fields and eat up the rice fields. When we are sensible, my father allows us to accompany, but forbids us to make noise. Therefore, we dare not go out in the atmosphere, just watching stupidly. My father stared at the water for about two minutes, then unbuttoned his pants and walked into the water for about two meters. He began to scoop water with his hands and threw it forward. I remember throwing it five times in front, six times on the left and six times on the right. The action is quick and decisive, the spray is flying and symmetrical. The splash fell on the water and crackled, like many small hands clapping their hands. I later learned that the number "566" has a moral meaning, which means "five crops are abundant" and "6666". After throwing the water, dad put the cereal bags into the water one by one and drowned just right. At this time, soaking seeds is still related to the water temperature. The vernal equinox has passed and Tomb-Sweeping Day is approaching. Tung flowers have become patches of lavender on the hillside, and the temperature is accelerating. Everything has entered a state of chasing after me, for fear of dragging the back of the season. The water in the pond is still a little cold, but it is more slightly warm, just suitable for soaking seeds. However, such a simple work was made quite solemnly by my father. He skillfully used water and let go of the desire he had been holding for a winter. I think this wish is naturally green, golden, yellow and even heavier.

After soaking the seeds for about three days, they can start to germinate quickly. In this link, the role of water is also particularly important. My father piled seeds in the hall, with a pile of coal ash next to it, and my mother boiled a few pots of water. I know, the following is the interaction of "mixing", that is, mixing coal ash and seeds evenly. I often participate in the whole process. Father shoveled all the coal ash onto the grain pile with a shovel and then stirred it. Every time my father lifts the shovel, I sprinkle hot water on the seeds and ashes on the shovel. Sprinkling water is fun and requires skill. I am proficient in it. The water is a little hot, but I can stand it. I hold the basin in my right hand, my left hand is spread out, and my five fingers are released. I waved my hand, and the water in the basin formed a parabola, dripping on the seeds and ashes, laughing. A better name for this sprinkling is "combing water". My hand became a "comb", moving quickly, and the water formed dots and lines. Listen to my command. It's really interesting. It's a happy job. After mixing the seeds, my father was sweating, soaking wet and steaming. I also have a fever all over, but I don't feel tired, just like taking a bath. After the hot water "melts", the grain seeds are covered with coal ash. Of course, more shelter comes from straw, which covers them tightly, which makes me suddenly think of hens hatching chickens. It's a bit of a fantasy, but it's about the same. Yes, that's how it hatches. Don't grab a handful from the grain pile for a week. These dusty seeds arched out half an inch of white buds and blinked at you. Oh, they really miss the fields.

When the seedlings are cultivated, they begin to pull out the seedlings and insert them into the fields. At this time, if you stand on the top of the mountain and go to the fields, the scenery is really beautiful, mainly because the water is well worn. The field has been ploughed, the mud has been broken and precipitated, and a thin layer of water has been stored, which is really a veritable paddy field. These paddy fields are stacked from low to high, as if to climb to the sky. If there is oblique rain, rows of rice fields are sipping in the rain, glowing with white light, like many idle fish; If the sun opens itself completely, the vast fields will tremble brightly, making it difficult for the crane to settle down from where. This is a beautiful scenery, but my father, mother and villagers don't appreciate it deliberately, and they don't need to appreciate it, because it is their own work. They must let rice fields produce food, and the harvest of food is the most important thing. With the nourishment of water, paddy fields are wasteland without harvesting millet; There are a lot of millet, and the paddy field is a cornucopia. They all laughed in their dreams and held the paddy field tightly in their arms.

The first time to pull seedlings into the water field is called "boiling water field door" Father first lit a candle at the edge of the rice field to offer incense, and then the family was hard up. He also wants to buy 20 firecrackers and throw them into the air to explode. Then, he leaned forward, holding a handful of rice water in his hand, took a long drink and swallowed it. Then I began to pull out the seedlings. What does the name here mean? I never understood. The water is unclean. Why should I drink it? This is also a custom that has been circulating for many years. Even if my father doesn't drink this saliva, he should invite his respected elders to drink it.

As soon as the seedlings opened, folk songs came. Otawa, a folk song in the village, is closely related to the word "water". Without water, songs lose their meaning and feelings, and some of them are dry. Father is a "basket of folk songs", and all kinds of mountains can't be sung. Pulling out the seedlings into the field, he naturally sang Tian Ge: "The wind is rising again, and there are many waves. The newly transplanted fields are full of green waves. There are only three things in the world, tea and wine with folk songs. " He also sings a little erotic, but he is not shy in front of our little guy. He sang vigorously: "In April, the field is deep and the water is deep, and a grain of water is half a catty. Pinch off the tail, wash the mud, and send your hands to your sister's arms. Ask my sister if she is happy? " These songs are really corny, but their meanings are very moist and their voices are rich, high or clear, so the whole venue is very lively and has a "wild" flavor.

two

Water is actually a carrier of happiness. Without water, children's happiness will be eclipsed.

Children who grow up in the countryside have a natural affinity for water. Facing the blue sea, which wild child won't have the impulse to jump into the water to play? However, the water has drowned people, so adults always warn us not to bathe and swim in ponds and rivers. The water ghost will pull you down, draw you deep and suck your soul dry. When Mr. Ba Zi tells every child's fortune, he will shake his head and warn: "Don't take birds from big trees and don't bathe in deep ponds." This is tantamount to nonsense. Tall trees and deep ponds are also dangerous for adults. At this point, my father is very open-minded, and his reason is clear: if you are not afraid of water, water will be afraid of you. He also said: learn water and water will support you.

Learning to swim in the village is generally a matter of practice and self-study. My father is willing to teach us. He is a good swimmer. He dived into the water. After a few minutes, he can pop out his skull more than ten feet away and walk in the water again. However, his teaching method is self-created. He knows nothing about breaststroke, butterfly and freestyle except "dog running", but he swims fast, steadily, far and long. When we were beginners, we only dared to stand on our hands in the shallow water of the pond and beat our feet with water, but our bodies were still' like a heavy object' and could not float. Father carried us to the deep water area. He told us to row back with our hands and kick back with our feet. After a while, he let go and we struggled to swim. Find the feeling, the bolder you are, sum up your experience, and you will learn to swim. My younger brother is always afraid, and my father is angry with him because he fails to live up to expectations. He taught him a lesson several times and flung him into the deep water. My brother choked on water many times and kept crying. He just practiced the "dog running style" in "Being at Home", which is worse than me. My father often leads my brother and me to swim freely in the pond in my hometown. Three naked bodies enjoyed swimming, and the three of them became playful children, which made their partners on the shore envious. Because I have seen the Water Margin, I often brag in front of my partners: What is "white stripes in the waves"? Hehe, here it is!

On a midsummer night, the air is still a little hot. We jumped into the pond in the moonlight, and all the fatigue and anxiety during the day were melted by the water. Especially when backstroke, you don't need physical strength. Gently move your hands and feet, and your body will move forward. Nice technique. You can almost lie still. At this time, the excitement in the pond quieted down, frogs could be heard, and insects could be heard singing at night. As for the moon, it hangs so high that I seem to see the palace inside. This situation is really embedded in the depths of memory and will always be clear. Yes, we don't have many toys and extracurricular books to read, but we have water, which bubbles our skin and cells and stimulates our nature and spirit.

Swimming never stops even in the coldest winter. The biting cold wind will sting your face and wrinkle it, even on sunny days. At this time, most people huddled up and let their skin become numb, acne and frostbite in the cold, while my father took us into the water. I was really upset when I first got into the water. Suddenly I feel that my figure has shrunk several times, I can swim, my movements are more and more comfortable, and my breathing is more and more free. Water beats our bodies, then massages them, and finally becomes a warm touch. I was thinking at that time that the skin's feeling of water sometimes really has nothing to do with temperature. When the skin smiles, the water smiles.

The pond was frozen and we couldn't swim, so the father and son came to the well in shorts and watered themselves with well water, barrel after barrel, until we poured out the heat of our lower body and the rosy color of ripe oranges.