Author: Li Li It’s a hot summer day, and I’m sweating profusely. At this time, I really miss the riverside in my hometown. When I was a child, I lived by the river, a house by the river, my childhood by the river. The bedroom window could overlook the river at night, and the tran

Author: Li Li

In the hot summer months, sweating profusely, I really miss the riverside in my hometown.

When I was a child, I lived by the river, a house by the river, my childhood by the river. The bedroom window could overlook the river at night, and the tranquility of the moonlight scattered on the water. During the day, white clouds floated in the sky over the water, and the silhouettes of birds floated. The river meandered, sometimes fast, sometimes slow, and made various sounds as it went downstream. It's foggy, and thin mist stretches all over the sky. It was raining, and it kept falling. The river was filled with smoke, and it was almost impossible to see the boats, bridges, plants and trees in the dense rain and fog.

In years with extra rain, the small river is full of water, and the river water quietly rises to the embankment. The wet soil on the shore is soft and collapses, and it sinks with every step. The plants growing by the water grow exceptionally green. . When the river water falls, there is only a turbulent ditch in the middle of the river bed, with small water gurgling. You can see turtles crawling on the bottom of the river, as well as nimble and fast-moving small hairy crabs. Along the thin stream of water, on a sunny day, from one thorn bush to another bush, you can also chase a beautiful blue or green dragonfly, chasing its purple and turquoise wings with a buzzing sound. A mini whirlwind. Until later, the dragonfly perched on the tip of a reed. At this time, I could hold my breath and watch its long wings as thin as gauze, its colorful glazed robe, and its pair of crystal eyeballs.

In the morning, when you open the window, you will see the river flowing in the light spots. This is a non-stop flow, as well as the houses, grass, and birds perching and flying in the treetops, passing by lightly. The feathers shine brightly. In the evening, the setting sun dyes the river water orange, like the yolk of a tender local egg. Walking along the golden river, watching the sunset, the boats in the river are rippling gently, there are couples hugging each other closely, there are old people walking slowly, there is a person and a dog sitting side by side by the river, looking quietly into the distance together. Someone stood by the river, picked up a pebble from the ground, and threw it into the water, causing ripples. Some people were walking alone along the river bank, picking up small leaves as they walked, holding them in their mouths, and blowing a monotonous sound. The fishing boat in the river is very close to the shore. The men on the boat are so tanned that they seem to jump naked into the river at any time to wash away the sweat, while the women squat on the boat holding a fan and preparing to cook in the coal stove.

Night is coming, and the children of the river, who have worked hard all day, come to the river to enjoy the coolness and do some household chores. After a while, many people came, with noisy voices and cluttered figures. The huge moon painted a pale yellow halo in the night sky. Under the moonlight, people walked in twos and threes along the river, and their silhouettes rippled on the water. The river dissipates hot water vapor from the residual heat of the day. The wind beside the water brings the faint fragrance of water plants. The fragrance of the grass on the bank is mixed with the smell of earth... It is not until late at night, in the dead of night, that we can hear the weavers and all the insects by the river. The sound, like rain, was getting louder and louder deep in the grass.

I was once the daughter of the river, like a Artemisia pole growing by the river. Later, I left the small town of my hometown, left the river of my hometown, and lived in a city larger than this one for a long, long time. I always have to leave, I always say goodbye to people, flowing through one scenery after another, I feel like a river, running forward across the mountains. Thinking of the river in my hometown, that feeling is both sad and joyful, a long-lasting thought of heaven and earth. Suddenly looking back, it seems that the old self is still standing by the river, looking at the river that is always rippling with microwaves, reflecting the dark mountains in the distance. The moonlight of my childhood still shines on my back, even though years have added to my back.