Essay on past events in summer

The essay "Last Summer" 1 Every summer, I feel that time passes very slowly, which is also for a reason. One is that the direct point of the sun moved to the northern hemisphere, where the days are long and the nights are short, and the days are prolonged, which makes me feel that dusk is out of reach. The second is the unbearable high temperature weather. Every time I look at the bright sun overhead, it is not the warmth of spring or the warmth of winter, but thousands of invisible lightsabers, dazzling and burning. The "drawn sword" exudes a strong burning gas, which really makes people afraid to go out, like September. If you don't go out, stay at home. Mobile phones and televisions have become frequent visitors. Entertainment programs occasionally make people laugh, and long TV dramas are really impatient. If you stare at the screen for a long time, you will feel sore and uncomfortable. I just hope that there is no light in the air, the ground is full of shadows, and the world that has been hot for a long time will be calm. You can take a walk in the street, and a breeze blows from time to time, bringing a touch of dark flowers, which feels great.

At night, the lights are on, and the small town has its own temperament and charm without the prosperity of the city. My favorite is the road leading to the forest, paved with black asphalt, with residential buildings on one side and small gardens and sidewalks on the other. There are street lamps, but they are not very bright, leaving only a faint light, but there is a silence in the darkness. Going deeper, you will catch up with a river and slowly flow down from the left side of the small garden. The river flows down from a mountain spring deep in the forest. Crystal clear, exceptionally clear in summer. There is a bridge at the bottom of the river. The convenience of the bridge is a good place for my summer vacation in my youth. No, think about it. Perhaps, this river is a trickle, carrying my childhood memories everywhere. When it falls, it won't travel thousands of miles, but it will continue to flow. The stone at the bottom will either be washed downstream or remain calm, but its surface will become smooth under the touch of the river day and night.

Now I have nothing to do to think about the past. Although memory is as smooth and helpless as a river, it is only superficial, such as the river in the upper reaches, empty and soft. The details of memory are like sand and stones at the bottom of the river, thousands of which are generally visible, but the scene in its depth is out of reach after all.

A trickle, a whisper. What flows away is time, like youth that can't go back.

How lucky I am today, I am no longer a farmer. However, the scene of rural labor "burning with rustic heat" will always emerge unconsciously. ...

"Small summer, cooking", the annual "Big Summer Sauna Festival" arrived as scheduled. When the sun comes out, it's like a fire on the ground. Cicadas are hysterical, go all out to cooperate with the loud noise, but also add a heat, throwing a handful of oil in this day of filariasis.

How lucky I am today, I have stopped farming. However, the scene of rural labor "burning with rustic heat" will always emerge unconsciously. ...

The midsummer season coincides with "double grabbing", and the word "grabbing" appropriately shows the urgency of farming time. People must finish harvesting and planting before the solar term in beginning of autumn, and the time is tight and the task is heavy. So in July, there were no idle people in the countryside, and men, women and children went into battle together, making reasonable arrangements and scientific division of labor: women were responsible for cutting and delivering rice handles, men were responsible for threshing and transporting rice, and the elderly and children were responsible for drying and collecting rice. In the vast fields, the rumble of threshing machines comes and goes, people shuttle through the fields and alleys to transport rice, and the farmyard is covered with golden rice ... The village is busy and lively, and people are tired and tanned. After harvesting, it's a scramble for seeds. At this time, the situation is even more tense: a lot of water is needed for farming and transplanting rice seedlings. However, summer is often dry and rainy. The water source is still quite expensive at this time. In order to irrigate in an orderly way, it has become a rule that people agree to irrigate in turn according to the position order of rice fields: the fields are in the upper reaches and take turns, and everyone queues up to fetch water at night. However, some people in the rice fields in the middle and lower reaches were in a hurry and began to think carefully: while the people in the upper reaches were unprepared, they secretly led water into their own fields. After being found, it is often a big fight, or even a big fight, so on summer nights, people can hear not only insects, but also quarrels or fights. My family has many fields, all in the middle and lower reaches. My father is a kind man. Although he is anxious, he never cuts in line to compete with others, just waits patiently. A straw mat, a straw fan and a flashlight are my father's equipment for summer nights. Waiting by the water source, insects bite mosquitoes, and cold snakes swim around ... I stayed up late with my father, listened to my parents' night talk, listened to my aunts' parents, counted the stars in the sky, and fell asleep peacefully in the moonlight like water. ...

After the "double robbery" is completed, it is just some piecemeal farm work. Adults should maintain the newly planted seedlings: plow, prevent insects and fertilize. And children also have tasks, generally chopping wood and picking pig grass. Cutting wood is a difficult job for me, not to mention steep mountains and roads. The caterpillar lying on the firewood and the snake hiding under the root of the firewood have scared me. I often go to chop wood with my little brother and play while chopping. When I came home, my little brother was carrying firewood, and I followed with two firewood knives. The firewood we cut back is of poor quality, basically burning thatch, leaving only smoke and ash. The amount of firewood is also very small, and we only cut a load of firewood together. Father is not satisfied with this, but he dotes on us and often gives us a silent criticism. "You cut firewood for a long time, and the two bundles you cut are only as big as two pillows, which are too delicate for you two to fry ..."

For me, the happiest thing in summer is picking pig grass. Three or five friends walk together, and the river in the field is a good place to pick pig grass. In summer, the fields are rich in products, and there are cucumbers, watermelons, tomatoes and other fruits everywhere, so we stole a cucumber or a tomato and stuffed it into our mouths while people were unprepared. That kind of sweetness and refreshment is a great enjoyment in hot summer. After being discovered by the owner, we ran away. The host loves his fruit and scolds him badly. However, we are quite indifferent. We are naughty and like Q to comfort ourselves. "Scold as much as you want, and it doesn't hurt ..." Our favorite thing is to go to the river to pick pig grass. On the one hand, there are abundant aquatic plants, on the other hand, you can swim in summer. It's fun to play in the water and completely forget to pick pig grass. In the hot noon, several of our friends gathered in the cool river ditch, enjoying the cold spring water and falling asleep comfortably. A cry woke us up. "I said how the downstream water flows so slowly, and you guys stopped me!" The uncle waiting for water diversion irrigation shouted angrily at us.

The summer of childhood passed quietly, leaving me an indelible memory. The hard experience of farming and working was deeply branded in my memory, unforgettable and beautiful!