There is such a place, I can��t see the mountains, I can��t see the water, but I
keep my endless homesickness. It��s this place, I used to live with my dreams,
now I��m buried in my youth, and I��m holding my thoughts in the future. I have
been relocating to the town for more than four years, but I have been studying
in the field. Every time I come back, I have to go back to the small village and
return to the weedy yard and return to the memories of the youth. Now, I am
going to work in the field, with reluctance and nostalgia, I will come back here
again. In this way, I will give my hometown three jujube trees that I have
brushed in the individual small alleys of the hometown. Now I am full of The
green-green lantern of a tree, the leaves of the jujube, the story of the
half-covered face. This date evokes my mites, I pick up my toes, pick one, put
it in my mouth, a sweet taste hits my taste buds, and memories are also
unfolding: I was always waiting for my friends and I When the jujube is mature
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down and find a grassland. Everyone will sit down around the jujube and enjoy a
"feast feast". The dates in the memory are not bitter, or maybe they are too
late to be swallowed. Going on, it explains what is swallowing. Under the jujube
tree, I stopped for a moment and saw a child king running with his partner. I
know they want to repeat our story. I have enough one, throwing it in the air,
looking up, opening my mouth and catching the jujube, accompanied by the
mouthful of jujube, I continue to move forward to the sycamore tree in the yard,
I can not embrace, although growing A glimpse of the courtyard, but it can cast
a cool shade for the entire yard. I like the legend about Wutong. I can't
remember that because of the tree, I only pay attention to it, or because the
tree of Xiangtong is liked. This time is probably the last time I embraced the
phoenix tree, because our old family believes that the tree is spiritual. The
yard cannot have trees that are too long, so I want to ask people to handle it.
I don��t know if I will return it next time. Can be in your shade. People said:
"Grow the phoenix tree, come from the phoenix." And the future of the phoenix, I
will leave you, I kissed the phoenix tree
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mark. I don't think you will die, at least for me, you will not die suddenly, I
think of it. Probably Wutong went five steps east. I found the shovel and tried
to find it, but the result was a bit disappointing. When I was young, I played
marbles with my little friends. I always took a few more homes. Later I used a
wine box to make a "ballistic warehouse". The warehouse was not full, my
childhood was exhausted, I cried. Sealing the marbles together with the
warehouse and holding a small "burial ceremony". I remember my mother said that
when I graduated, I will have time. I specially chose the site and waited for me
to dig out after graduation. It may be that the direction of the memory or the
number of steps is wrong, or perhaps the measurement unit of "step" has
undergone tremendous changes. I picked up the iron shovel and wanted to find it
again, but I gave up and let him accompany the phoenix tree. Buried in here!
What does it mean to find out? I still leave this thought, in the form of
"clothing ڣ", to make a monument to the past, so that I can go to childhood by
hang. I like the plains of the plains. Although not as beautiful as the mountain
terraces, it is not as desolate and tragic as the Loess Plateau. It looks
ordinary and easy to be forgotten, but this land is silently dedicated to itself
and is given every year. Bring joy to the harvest
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as the people of the village who were born in the ages, grew up in the sin, and
died in the village. The flat land is endless, and only here, I only see the
farthest scenery. Keeping for four o'clock, by the solar terms, one smashing
wheat, one corn, this land has its own work, no hurry, and the rhythm of the
city is like two worlds. At this time, the corn is about to mature, and the
corn, which is more than two meters high
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quite straight. When someone walks through the field road, they pay tribute to
the workers and live like a group of soldiers who have been reviewed. The rich
corn fragrance makes the whole air sweet, and the folks are full of expectation
for the harvest. The land is kind. If you cultivate it, you will have something
to gain. The city is also a place to believe in sweat. I think I have to
cultivate my. The land is goodbye, and it was buried in the hometown of the
hometown; goodbye, living in the hometown of childhood. Organizing the bags and
embarking on the journey, I don't know if I can return home and return to my
hometown
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hometown is always my hometown, a place where even the moon is brighter than
others.
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