Wheat is yellow.

The cuckoo's cry gets louder every day, and the closer it gets to the ear: "Grandpa, Grandma, cut the wheat and collect the grain _ _" At this time, the temperature is getting higher every day, which is exactly what the saying goes, "Roast the wheat". The scorching sun, like a fire, turns the wheat in the field from yellow to golden yellow, and then slowly turns yellow and white, which is considered that the wheat is really mature. The heavy ears of wheat are swaying in the wind, which indicates a bumper harvest year and brings good hope to farmers looking forward to a bumper harvest!

Every farmer is a catcher in the rye. From the day of sowing, he was waiting for wheat seedlings to break out of the ground, waiting for snowflakes to fall from the sky, eager for good weather and reduce pests and diseases. I hope that the application of real fertilizer, watering, weeding, hoeing, fertilizing and spraying can not be less. After many days of patience and hard work, the wheat finally matured. The air began to smell of wheat scorched by the sun. It's a long wheat fragrance!

"The autumn harvest of wheat is busy, and the embroidered mother gets up." As soon as the child's face changed, the weather in June changed. "When the wheat is harvested, it is called' Longkou grabbing food'. In order to fight against natural disasters and return the grain to the warehouse, the whole family needs to mobilize and grab the wheat together. And young I also participated in the annual summer harvest in those lost years, because there is a wheat festival in the countryside every year.

At first, I had a big pot of rice, and my class teacher was the counselor of the school's rare brigade. I'm her capable little assistant _ _ Captain of the Young Pioneers. Every summer harvest, the village will set up sentries at various intersections into the village. In case someone steals the wheat from the production team. Let the students take turns to keep watch. And my task is to check whether these watchmen stick to their posts.

Get up early every day and patrol in all directions and intersections in the village. The intersection is easy to say, people come and go, and it is very lively. Most of the intersections near cliffs are on slopes and are very remote. I'm really afraid to go there. I was only nine years old then. I always invite my classmates to go. We had a good time in small groups in the village!

We will look for "kowtowing insects" in a cave full of cotton soil. It is a black beetle, slender, with a joint between the body and the head. If you hold down his second half, his first half will move up and down, "clang, clang", trying to break free, like kowtowing!

We will also look for "Gu Mo" at the foot of the drywall. It is a spider-like insect, but its legs are thicker and shorter, and its body is not as round as a spider. There is a round cover on its hole, and there is a hole not far from it, which is the back door of the bug and the door to escape. But we often find it and block its back road. We carefully identify at the root of the wall to see where the soil is different from the surrounding soil. After I found it, I lifted the round cover with my fingernail, then pulled a dog tail grass and slowly reached into the hole. When it was hooked, I felt almost the same. When I pulled up the grass on the dog's tail, the worm was pulled up and eating grass. Everyone was excited to see its brown fluffy appearance. Its nest is covered with white silk like camphor cotton. Very particular. These bugs brought endless fun to my childhood!

I played beautifully that year, earned a lot of work points at home, and was also an advanced individual in summer harvest!

As the land is fixed at the family level, the summer harvest really makes me miserable. I didn't pay much attention to eating those days. Because of this, my camp is not good, and my hands begin to peel off in summer. When the wheat is ripe, my parents take my sister and brother to cut the wheat. My younger brother is still young, only picking wheat in the back. My mother leads the way, my sister follows, I follow far behind, and my father binds wheat bales behind.

Mother waved the sickle in her right hand and pulled it on the wheat line. She carried the wheat forward with her left hand. At the same time, she used a sickle to "fork" a lot of wheat and cut it off. Mother rushed forward with her head down and soon reached the middle of the ground. That's 300 meters. I cut wheat like my mother, but my peeling fingers stung my heart. Ten fingers were red, and the tender thin skin cracked and oozed blood. I wrapped my hand in a handkerchief and held back. But the straw and leaves that pierced my hand didn't spare me. Straightening up and looking at the endless wheat field, I want to conjure up eighteen kinds of martial arts and harvest this large piece of wheat at once.

Summer morning is the most beautiful time of the day and seems to pass the fastest. We cut a piece of wheat on the ground before the sun was on fire. At this time, my mother's black hair was wet with sweat and stuck to her face. Half of the sleeves of the white shirt were dyed black by the dust on the straw.

My sister blushed, her hair was messy and her clothes were wet with sweat. But she still did not forget to laugh at me: "Miss's health, the life of the servant girl!" " "

My roots itch with anger: she never sympathizes with me. You see, the fastest sickle in the family is in her hand. Good things will always be hers. But she is clean and hardworking. Because of my sister, I can always be lazy.

At that time, my brother-in-law bought a simple harvester to collect wheat for others. And the small piece of land in his house was harvested by us because the machine could not reach it. So it adds more burden to us. My parents are very kind and never care.

It is very difficult to transport the wheat home from slopes and deep ditches. Adults take two bundles of wheat at a time, and children take one bundle and climb up from the deep ditch. We are too tired to breathe. I'm afraid I can't climb that steep path empty-handed now. Wheat must come down a big slope. At that time, my family used an ox cart, and there were no brakes or anything like that. Just pull a Mu Cha with a rope and let my sister sit on the trailer. Quite dangerous. I followed the car trembling. After hard years of tempering, we have become very strong!

It's another year of wheat yellow, and now there is no need to plant and harvest wheat artificially. When the big harvester "chug" rang, a large area of wheat quickly turned into piles of grain. Life is changing with each passing day In just 30 years, great changes have taken place in China.

And I, pushed by time, squeezed by life and driven by fate, have passed through a happy childhood, an ignorant youth and a heavy middle age, and I am approaching the age of knowing my destiny.

The wheat is yellow and I am mature. Growing up in constant gains and losses. Life is richer and more tenacious. If you don't drift from place to place, you don't know how cold and warm the world is. Without rain, snow, wind and frost, you can't see the harvest. Only hide your sharpness and broaden your horizons. Don't just live in a small circle of yourself. I learned patience, tolerance, gentleness and peace. Learned to love others. You can bear it. You can be in the chaos. You can make peace with yourself and the world. Everything has its beauty and everything is just right. Grateful for life, grateful for having you, grateful for meeting. Appreciate everything. First-class mentality.

If a wheat falls into the ground, if it doesn't die, it won't bear many grains ... People just deny themselves, accept themselves, find themselves, find themselves, and meet a better self ahead!

Those who sow with tears will reap happily!