No matter how time passes, homesickness is an unchanging emotion. It is a flower rain of osmanthus trees, diving into a sweet dream; it is a sweet and glutinous osmanthus cake , with the fragrance of hometown; it is a fine osmanthus wine, with the fragrant taste that is intoxicating.
shaking osmanthus , the flowers are flying
Hometown is rich in osmanthus. When I was a child, I lived at my grandmother's house, and there was a osmanthus tree at the entrance of the yard. The fragrant August is my favorite season. The flowers bloom all over the trees, the yard and the house are fragrant, the trees and the ground are golden, and the world seems to have turned into a golden fairy tale. Groups of friends play in the fragrance of osmanthus, gently shaking the osmanthus tree is a rain of flowers. The osmanthus flowers are like golden butterflies, lingering and sprinkling, falling down the ground with golden color. I like to roll in that softness, full of fragrance. When I go home with a fragrant fragrance at night, I always get my grandmother’s laughter and scolding: “Monkey, how much cake can I make by ruining these osmanthus flowers!” The playmate in the colorful rain of flowers, and the room full of fragrance is the softest feeling in my heart.
cinnamon cake is sweet and mellow, and Miaoshou Ningxiang
says that children only have candy and ribbons in their heads, while mine only has the same - osmanthus cake. On the lazy sunny afternoon, I always like to carry a bamboo basket, climb up the short osmanthus tree, and pick out the tenderest handful of osmanthus flowers from the golden yellow in my eyes and put it into the basket. Grandma put the golden osmanthus flowers in water and whipped them a few times, washed and drained them, and steamed them with the white glutinous rice flour. The first piece of cake that comes out of the pot is always handed to my hands first, and I gently bit it with a petal of falling osmanthus, making my mouth full of sweetness. The taste of osmanthus cake is the taste of grandma's love, and the sweetest feeling left in my memory.
Osmanthus wine, rich fragrance
Osmanthus flowers bloom in full bloom, my grandfather would lay a mat under the osmanthus tree, hold a long bamboo pole to beat the golden tree, and I would collect the fragrance in the colorful fallen flowers, wrap it in gauze, hang it on a large jar of sorghum wine, sink a few pieces of rock sugar into the wine, and seal it with plastic film. A month later, I opened the wine jar and the room was filled with an intoxicating fragrance. Of course I can't drink, but I like to see my grandfather who was flushed and talking to my father with big hands, while my grandmother and mother were busy cooking and serving rice. Osmanthus wine is the joyful taste of a family reunion and the warmest feelings.
The memory is still as clear as yesterday, the fragrance of flowers comes, but it seems like a different life. In the sky full of rain, the osmanthus tree in front of me looks like the tree at the door of my hometown in my memory. I picked up a basket of osmanthus flowers and brewed a pot of flower carvings , all just to relive the taste of that season. At that time, the flowers bloomed, the wind was sweet, and the smell of drunkenness was my hometown in my memory, my hometown feelings for many years, and my unchanging feelings forever!
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