Zhao Hong's search

It is the first day of August in the lunar calendar. The days passed quickly, and I was panting like an ox in the back.

It's almost autumnal equinox again, a solar term divided equally between day and night. It also indicates that it is about to enter the real autumn, and there are always some shadows of autumn flashing out.

I went to Qinhuang River. In recent years, the river in Qin Huang has been swaying, and the shore is decorated with flowers and willow cloaks, which has become a rare place for local people. Pucao, willow and reed all show declining yellow at the tip, with a little vicissitudes, and they are also calm after prosperity. Just like a thick article with profound information, it is a gathering of rushing blood, which adds a taste of life that can endure reading.

Why am I still looking for old flavor in the beautiful images of bright autumn without exception?

It's eight o'clock in the morning, and I'm looking for the right shooting angle. The camera suddenly broke into modern buildings-towering buildings, which greatly destroyed the original natural harmony. What I hope it is? Or it should be white walls and gray tiles, or it should be a thatched cottage. I don't totally reject modern civilization, but there should be memories of Qin Huang and others, and there should be scenery I used to be familiar with.

Move the lens horizontally up. Clouds, floating in the air.

It's like a soft cotton wool in my mother's hand, which is uncovered layer by layer and stuck on the blue sky. When I was studying in a foreign country, my mother uncovered the clouds of cotton wool layer by layer and patted them on the quilt to show her concern and entrustment to her daughter.

Some clouds are dotted like scattered plum petals.

Move the camera down. There is a child lying on the warm ground, facing the blue sky. I want to take pictures, but I can't bear to disturb him. Maybe his thoughts are in the sky, embracing the white clouds. I used to work with adults on the slope, just lying down and walking in the sky surrounded by white clouds.

I finally chose the moon gate made of ancient blue bricks. It happens to include blue sky, white clouds, graceful green trees and a yellow lawn on top; Squeezed out modern high-rise buildings and ochre plastic pavement.

two

Reality cannot be squeezed out. The development of modern civilization has completely changed our lives. Multimedia, Internet, skyscrapers, artificial intelligence ... There is no doubt that our life is like a blooming sesame.

So is Qiao Zhuang. In our region, Qiao Zhuang used to be synonymous with economic backwardness. Dirt wells, saline-alkali land, old houses, maybe this is the image of Qiao Zhuang I can think of. Qiao Zhuang, just like my childhood playmate. Simple is a little simple, but unkempt, clothes are never neat, even in winter, there will be one or two clear snots between your mouth.

When I saw it again, it was already in a suit and tie, and its smile was full of peace and piety. I prefer this metaphor. I hope he is a modest gentleman, not a light beauty. Jinyu pear garden, flowers turn into snow, bees surround butterflies; Shrimp ponds, reeds, red lotus, herons and warblers; Ten thousand mu of paddy fields, strong ears and strong trees, are choppy. If you walk in, it will be a big sight along the way.

"Eat color, sex is also." Such a pure and beautiful background color, if lacking food, will be like a hole in the collection of famous calligraphy and painting. Qiao Zhuang's food is a must. When you come here, you must try the fried dumplings in Qiao Zhuang, so that you have no regrets.

I know there is a Qiao Zhuang fried dumpling in the southeast corner of the intersection of the Middle East and the Middle East. This fried bun shop has been there since I came to the county seat.

Today, I thought of fried dumplings and went to see them again. I felt it necessary to get close. "There is no fried bag." Mother and son were working together when I came over. It's always like this. The steamed buns are sold out before the lid is opened. If you want to eat, you always have to wait for the pot, or the pot. A pot of ninety-seven steamed buns. I'm familiar with all these.

"If you want to eat, wait another ten minutes." They can't talk to me and leave work at the same time. "I'm not here to buy fried dumplings, just to have a look. I want to see your procedure for making fried buns. " When I told you the purpose of my visit, the man smiled shyly and said, "I'm not from Qiao Zhuang, but I'm who I used to be. I just took this job seven or eight years ago. My hometown is Gaoqing. " He is very practical. Mom has just kneaded the dough, so I'm embarrassed to look at me again. I feel a strange guest.

They quickly put the leeks into the dough and stirred the meat. Meat mixed with bean paste should be a major feature of fried dumplings in Qiao Zhuang.

A stocky middle-aged man walked into the gable. Only when he sat down and talked with him did he know that he was a real Qiao Zhuang. "I come every day just to eat a few Qiao Zhuang fried buns, which is also an idea."

"Fried dumplings are not what they used to be," he said.

"What was it like?" It's worthwhile to meet such a guest, so I won't let it go.

"Let's talk about the choice of leeks. It needs to be open-air So it is better to eat fried dumplings in spring and summer. When I first came out of the pot, I was sweating. " He licked his lips.

"Meat is to be picked, and pigs are raised in their own homes. Carefully cut the pork belly into cubes. Now you not only buy mixed bean paste, but also grind your own wheat into flour, make your own batter, and simmer it in the meat. Who wants to work so hard now? " He asked me.

"What is needed is the salt water in the local dirt well. People need to eat alkaline things, and weakly alkaline things are good for the human body. " He added regretfully, "Now it's all treated tap water, so it's hard to eat authentic Qiao Zhuang fried buns."

three

Some things that have disappeared may never be found again.

Yellow leaves fell like rain, swish, slapping their heads and faces. They couldn't refuse, and the wind wrapped them away from their mother. Just like the wheel of history leaves a rut mark, just move on, no matter how you lament the vicissitudes of life. Almost * * * straight poplars stood quietly, and the monument of the site of Bagucheng stood among them, and the fallen leaves danced on its shoulders, dancing with solemn feeling.

We also step on fallen leaves and weeds. I picked up a fallen leaf and looked at it in the sun: most of it was yellow, and only the left edge stubbornly revealed some green leaves near the end of life. Veins are more and more prominent, trying their best to support the dead leaves, like the hands of a skinny old man.

With it, I set foot on this tens of square meters of earth platform.

For building roads or houses, the area of this earth platform is not large. The broken bricks buried here have also been transported away, and the large-scale urbanization process has also built the traces of history into reinforced concrete. Fortunately, the value of urban ruins excavation was also discovered by people of insight, and gold was found in the gravel.

We parted the weeds, turned over the soil, jumped into the ditch next to the platform, rummaged through the original garbage, the gold particles in the original garbage, just like archaeologists searched the green void above, and the yellow spring water below.

I wish I were an expert in archaeology. Because although I picked up the tiles, I couldn't get any ideas by recognizing their shapes, colors and textures.

There is no doubt that this place used to be the imperial city. The music history of the Northern Song Dynasty, Taiping Yuhuan, contains Boxing County: "In the southeast of this county, Le 'an is the old city, and Han Le 'an is the old city. In the southeast of this county, Pugu City is the old capital of Qi. There was a place called Puguguo at the end of Yin Dynasty. At the beginning of the week, the army rose and the king destroyed it. "

It is rumored that the Imperial Capital is visualized every 60 years. In a large area of water vapor transpiration, I heard someone say that I have seen this imperial city, or it is just an illusion in Boxing County. I stared at this side of the earth quietly, trying to impress the imperial city into my mind.

In the embrace of Yingying moat water, there is a group of typical rectangular buildings in ancient China. Houses with arches and cornices are built with brick and wood as the main materials, and the houses are enclosed into a courtyard, and the courtyard is compounded into a harmonious group. There are palaces and temples; There is a house and a workshop. There is no lack of lightness in steady coordination.

People wearing knee-high collars and right lapels went in and out of the workshop, and I noticed that some people even wore ornaments made of shellfish. Most of them came to me with their pottery household appliances or smiling pottery figurines.

These images were interrupted by laughter and melted into the sky. Seeing a friend sharing small wild fruits growing on the earthen platform, I also leaned over and picked some and put them in my mouth. This is a kind of millet called Solanum nigrum, which was called wild grape when we were young. Perhaps the wild fruit here is like the history of Pugu, which has been unknown for thousands of years. We are as happy as children and seem to have eaten the fruits of the ancient city.

Standing on a high platform, watching the sun in Xiaoqing River. "Lu Hua piao Xue Fan Zhou Zhu. Send autumn water to the sky. " On the banks of Xiaoqing River, under the bleak autumn sun, white and soft reed flowers make autumn more heavy. Some reed flowers float on the water like flocs and drift away slowly in the east.

These are still far away, such as the river that died in the east, which is not easy to find.

four

"The deceased is like a husband." Time continues to flow, and more things are bound to be taken away, so that you can't even find your own figure.

Will dialects and dialects disappear? I suddenly have such a question.

When I went to study in Qinghai that year, a local said to us, "Do you all eat here in the afternoon?" We were all excited at once, and everyone took his hand one by one: "Oh, Shandong fellow villagers!" " "As a result, everyone's enthusiasm was driven by a local accent." How long have you been here? ""why are you here? " "Are you homesick?" "Are you used to it?" The interviewee's face was burning. Although he couldn't cope with everyone's greetings for a while, excitement and joy jumped around his body.

The child opposite me, from Boxing, Shandong, is now studying at Wuhan University of Science and Technology. Her parents taught her to speak Mandarin since she was a child, so did the conversation at home. Every holiday, when I come to my house to play, I have to talk to her in Mandarin, otherwise she won't understand something.

My younger brother's children grew up with grandma, and the old man has no culture, so he naturally communicates with his children in dialect slang. When I sent him to the kindergarten to register, the teacher greeted him in Mandarin and asked him his name. His voice sounds like a songbird in spring. The child gave his name word by word with a clumsy and authentic local accent, which scared the teacher to death. Then the whole office burst into happy laughter, and then comforted: "This child is so cute!" " It is natural that such a big child can't speak Mandarin.

At that time, Xiang Yu and Liu Bang agreed to take the gap as the boundary and not harass each other. However, Liu Bang listened to Sean and Chen Ping's advice, arranged his troops, surrounded Xiang Yu tightly, and ordered his own army to sing folk songs of Chu at night, which shocked Xiang Yu, thinking that Liu Bang had won Chu State, lost his fighting spirit and committed suicide in Wujiang River. If there were no local accent, would the story of "besieged on all sides" like this still happen?

The poet in the Tang Dynasty lamented in My Hometown Book: "When a teenager left home, an old friend returned, and his local accent remained unchanged."

Chen, a poet in the Song Dynasty, said in Cold Food with Red Lips: "I don't know the local accent, but I'm afraid people think I'm too much."

In the Ming Dynasty, Fang sang in "Homesickness": "In the dream, the local accent is near, and the geese are over the sky."

Bing Xin, a centenarian, also wrote this sentence in Send a Little Reader 18: "This train is specially prepared for China students. There are no strangers on the train, and local accents can be heard everywhere. "

If there is no local accent, where should our homesickness be pinned?

five

Disappearing is not blind, some are being recovered.

Some time ago, I followed my school teacher to the Confucius Institute near the Yellow River. In the evening, children's innocent reading sounds fly out of the yard, shuttle on the increasingly bare willow branches and float on the surface of the Yellow River. At this time, the Yellow River is as calm as a lake, like an old man accustomed to the autumn moon and spring breeze.

Moved by this scene, I came back and used my interest to write several couplets that were not poems.

The yellow river is rolling, and the green willows are crazy.

The rising sun shines on the morning dew, and Chan Juan washes the blue pool.

The weak crown doubts the beautiful cypress, and cardamom is like Lan Zhi.

Inherit Confucianism and Confucius.

It's noon in late autumn and the sun is very strong. Autumn sunshine is also a time to shine.