When I was a child, it was also in the village. When I think about it again, it seems that it is not my own, but it is from a movie in a novel. It is both familiar and a little unfamiliar. Almost every house has a yard fence. In front of Hua Niang’s gate is a large area of poplar trees. In the summer, when it’s especially cool, I go there to eat. There is an unnamed tree behind the village, and there is a bird's nest on the tree. Every time we pass there, we are afraid of seeing snakes.
The most annoying night is when it was getting dark and my mother asked me to drive the ducks home by the small pond with grass in the back because I was a little scared to go to that grassy river alone. We often sat on the crooked weeping willow tree by the other small pond, with our feet in the water. Let's go catch butterflies together. Make mud people together and paint them together. Make kites out of large, thick art book paper and sorghum poles and fly them while standing in a wheat field. During the Chinese New Year, we used an empty chestnut juice jug to poke the hole and tie a rope to put it in with a small firewood stick. On the night of harvesting grain, sometimes I would sleep with my dad under the "carriage" in the rice field to watch the grain, or sit there with my sister and watch at mealtime, and my dad would go back to eat. On a hot night, I went to sleep on the roof of the aunt's bungalow next to me.
Watch "Legend of the New White Snake" and later "The Legend of Sword and Fairy" at my house together. Together, we crossed the distance of many fields to go to the village over there to play. There is a long stream there. The stream is very clean. On the way, we pick "wool yarn" to pick a kind of purple flower. In summer, when there is a flood, our parents will send us to school and cross the small pond in the village that has turned into a small river. By the way, we can catch a big red shrimp or two. When I was in junior high school, I didn't believe her (a girl as old as me, I can't remember her name now), so I forced her to go see that creek with me, it was full of stinky and dark animals. Water in the pigpen. Last year, when I went back in the summer, every house had a yard, but no one lived in it.
Those small ponds were filled with flat ground, and there was no shadow of the pond. The paths are all paved with cement, and if you don't go inside, you won't be able to recognize them. The iron gate of my house has more embroidery, and there are tall weeds around the gate. On the thick telephone pole in front of the door, there are still pictures and words engraved in my impression. The row of houses at the back of the village is gone, as are the trees behind it.
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