Fragrance of the Road

Always in the bloom season of Sophora japonica fragrant touch to dim. Faint fragrance deeply touch the heart of God touch the nose touch, even if it is not fragrant home specialty, but also be my memorable childhood laughter and tears, the ups and downs and the crystallization of China. Childhood always like playing in a playmate in a bamboo forest will naturally Cantabile like season play. Playing in the shady bits and pieces of bamboo, the play book to stay in the grass covered with Yin Yin stone paths, and playing in a stream of golden flies the years. The way to the playmate house is completed in the shady trees, but it seems never to go finish.
At that time only a few small home through the dirt. Herbs on the road without shore of long dead, even if the two deep ruts on the hasty step or a shallow pit is also stubborn a "jack."Until now I still busy walking on that dirt road, also very glad there is no construction of new rural back, because I walked this road for fifteen years, half of the thirties, memories flowing. But have not heard from the leaves floated on the birds, and smell the faint scent.There are only faint whistle told me not wishful thinking. For ah, the total not to let it back?And I can only let my memory back, retreated to touch the memory of the abyss.
Sophora japonica, after all, a specialty of the Central Plains. The hometown specialties specialty is non-terraced fields on the expanse of the river bank Tada rape. After all, gold is also fertile ground storage hidden golden rape. Stored in the memory to the distant relatives, I always microwave rape Ao sail the sea, crossing the Golden time in Hong rape quietly flowing. In the Butterfly and Bee back in the golden position, feel that way have to go back fifteen years, crooked.
Grandmother's front door is a gravel road, now is a gravel road. She said that every stone rustle excited whenever they hear the voice of touch, I know I must have come - the time-tested method. But one day she did not find me coming. I startled her, then she wood, and a long wood. Her pupils are in the world become blurred. She said she did not hear that again and again, she knew she was older, I know - she can no longer take pride in the past.No longer. Grandmother's life dull, full of wonders, there is no big thing, no matter what, such as mustard. Like many rural people, students old and sick, weddings and marriage, like a one in a little mustard is micro wind blowing dust into the quiet water, no ripples, no trace. Eighty-five summer and winter can teach people to forget everything.
Memory of the late autumn road sleep with thick leaves, and numerous early winter northwest wind was like playing a local anesthetic like shivering, just like hundreds of thousands of butterflies Butterfly Spring mouth spray in the air swirling. But I still believe this is only the Korean romantic drama in the unit can occur in the scene.
Mr. Lu said: There is no way in this, people walk more they will become a road. Humans are changing the road are changing: from narrow to wide and short length, from mud to hard. Also from tangible to intangible. Different people, different achievements will be the road of life, different life trajectory. Just on the road, on the fragrance of the road, there are too many stories we vibrate, so that we fright.
Is the foot of a road, do not know the surrounding wilderness has experienced a number of mulberry, has no way of knowing how many filmed here Jingtao cliff. Fear of the number of wild waves. Years of teaching people to know how heavy the weight of it, the word in the rough for a long time. Xu ups out here, see the note in the annals of ancient China's familiar name. (Roof side of the county Yap has still proud of him.) Looked far ahead in the end should be. But centuries of sun, moon and sprinkling so filled with the story here.
Xia public if the joys and sorrows of today in this way he has re-take the rivers and mountains, is doomed to a life way different day. The old man told me, where the road is fairly good. Yes, this tireless road between heaven and earth to shop in the broad-minded, laid on the plains, laying in dwarf ICo. Some are barely leaning on the edge of a cliff, hanging on in the sluggish river. This is not some way, is leaning on the field of public Xia Jing, stick with the risk taken to the vine. Not insisted on leaving the cliffs, and there are thoughts which look at the scenery, only thinking about their own micro-life, three feet three inches up. I have long been established as early as the stone from the school read out the collection on the face of the bit in his pride, a few Chuxiong heart. He is to go their own ambitions, he wants to success is immortal classic, timeless legend. So, he went on the road. Use, such as rafters, such as peaks and exotic thin sketch of south China's long and arduous journey. Even if the line is so forceful, but not an ink empty, no one at the United States is little effect of the drug.
Walking alone. Wide expanse of land. Clear Jade glass days. Clean the Milky Way. The entire universe seems to have disappeared completely, altogether. A vague time. Pale.History seems to back the historical starting point, or into the end of history. But Xu is still walking, always walk the walk with impunity. Elusive and out of the descendants of altitude, out of the majestic history of the Compassionate large Toru - a navigable road in South China's day - a stalwart of life.