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The autumn cloud  

2013-11-26 09:52:29|  分类: 默认分类 |  标签: |举报 |字号 订阅

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Every October, when gold wind, she brought the breath of autumn and the Dai family the most auspicious color. Gold wind too, citrus laugh reddening, rice smiled bent the waistTeny Wu, corn opened a big mouth...... So, Meng zhe Ba Zi entered the year the busy harvest season.

Early in the morning, when the mountain pepper bird nest is still sleeping, the field started lively up. Men and women in their own fields are busy harvesting, from time to time, but also with the distant people loudly said hello, exchanges the harvest farming, mutual praise the rice growth. Over the wide fields, echoed with the men rough shouting and women had laughter, noise and the children "chirp".

In the paddy field, Abba amah sickle in aspartate "Shua" dancing, behind, heavy rice lying on the straw, like two broad Golden Road, long extension opened, woman on the edge in the busy busy shack in preparation for breakfast, I and brother in pick up the dropped behind in fields where the heads of grain, the dog is not idle, saw the field there are frog or rail noise, "Wangwang" barks into the valley trees there, only my big black quietly lying on the edge of the field, eat with appetite to eat the freshly cut fresh strawSamsung Galaxy Note 3 Cases.

In the evening, when the busy day family dinner out of the shanty, cloud has been opened, in extending the horizon slowly drifts, round, thick and strong, burning like fire in the sky, then go forward with great strength and vigour of the red through the sky. When the fire goes out, is the most beautiful hometown, the field of gold, Yamakawa Aya, is the roadside flowers are immersed in a warm color.

Cloud is colorful, red, dark red, crimson, sometimes yellow, sometimes purple, sometimes white with red light. The shape of the clouds is all sorts of strange things, shapes, sometimes like a swarm of robust golden deer leisurely walk; sometimes like a like a few Golden Peacock in the rise and dance in a happy mood; sometimes like fighting the battlefield, a symbol of war in ancient China, kill a voice like thunder. However, more often, cloud is more like home that autumn fields, with yellow gold stacked, immeasurably vast difference in a thick autumn ripples is the joy of harvestAsian college of knowledge management.

Often heard her speak, the clouds in the sky fairy land, white cotton, yellow rice, carefully, but saw them, cattle and sheep. So, when the clear sky over the clouds, I often lay on the grass, focused on the sky of that piece of the moving clouds, imagine a fairy living in heaven. They have so many fields, have so many chicken, cattle and sheep, the day the more happy ah! But the woman said "the immortal life better, because they often do, good day is hard to come out, and mortal men if immortal as industrious, will also have their good days before."

I was in the cloud watching attentively, Abba has rolled out the new bamboo grandpa good at the edge of the clearing, new mat radiates light bamboo fragrance, mixed with the smell of the sun and also the rice fragrance, this is Meng zhe Bazi in thick breath of autumn. I and brother will the sun for a day spikes from fields where the hold to the bamboo. Abba force, he heads a bundles, in the "rice chair" (a tool called millet) the whip with force. Golden cereal grains such as rain "Shua Shua Lala Lala, like" falls on the bamboo mat, that a musical sound and the Abba solid and powerful "pa! Pa! Pa!" The sound of the threshing floor, played the song be bursting with happiness harvest. Rough play it once, Abba rice will be placed on the mother's side, my hands holding a bamboo stick to Abba didn't clean rice and played it again, not a grain of millet until the rice, the straw with a bamboo stick to old lady will got to pick, a bundle of Qi Qi the code up. When the valley a into a hill, at the foot of the bamboo mat Abba has been rice pile is a high "Pyramid".

It was getting dark, light rays shine with the Phoenix Tail Bamboo Grove Mountains on, like the tail feather like show clear and attractive outline. The ox cart, loaded with sacks of rice and the joy of harvest. The father shouted with great black in front walk, ringing cowbells "Ding Dong" sound, echoed in the field over the field is more open, more lonely. Grandma and grandpa sitting in the cart, happy to talk about this year's harvest, I and brother never know tired, chasing the next in the cart. Cloud has gradually faded, leaving only a few silk flushed red clouds in the sky, like a drunken old the face. I think, the immortal also like us, harvested their rice, a large piece of paddy field, they should receive too much?
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