In the city where I live, I always grow flowers and flowers, and I don’t see grass. The flowers bloomed and were smashed; the grass was dried and died, and was cut as a feed for sheep and rabbits. During the grass season, I often saw gardeners remove expensive turf from the truck and lay it on the side of the road, paving the gardens of the big and small. However, the fate of the grass is still as it used to be, and the residents have been looking forward to it again and again, looking forward to fail again and again. It seems that even the garden workers lost confidence in the city’s ability to grow green.
In front of my building, there was a small piece of forged bricks, white ash and yellow sand, which were forgotten in one or two years. The dry winds of spring, the heavy rains of summer, and the snow in the harsh winter make them even more messy. People want to go around but can’t get around. The soles are covered with loess and sand. When they enter the building, they are forced to rub on the concrete floor at the entrance of the building. They complain with the neighbors: this soil, the sand, this white ash. For a while, complaining for a while, walking into the home to step on the dirty floor, the table and chairs and the balcony still covered with fine dust. The rubble only brought anger and anger to the people, which cut off the normal communication of people in peace. People are looking forward to this place to be green. I often think that the green and large gardens are the size of a living room in the city. Few people sit in the comfortable living room with anger.
One year ago, the broken bricks were finally cleared. The bare yellow land was planted with turf and sprinkled with flower seeds. At that time, the turf covered the ground, and the garden was also full of roses, reds and human faces. The green and sturdy pine wall encloses the garden, and several dragons are staggered in the middle. Like a green umbrella, it is rain-proof and shelters. In short, it became a street garden in the inner residential area.
The garden attracted the neighbors: the old man who practiced the “shaped gods” in the morning; the couple who had a walk in the evening; the mother with the baby feeding in the sun; the night was deep, and there was a college entrance examination student who was desperately endorsed here. People meet and meet here, no longer complain about this soil, the sand, the white ash, people ask each other about the child’s health, explore the effect of the “shape of the gods” and the old disco fitness, and even talk about the price rises and then rises Not so angry. Sometimes even if your most beloved cat is lost, you will go to the garden to find a cat, and your “cat thing” will be of concern to many people. The children will bravely get you into the stinging pine wall and take out the cat, and give you the cat more excited than you. You and your cat are acquainted with the people around you. People praise your cat, and you appreciate the praise of the cat. Although you didn’t realize that your acquaintance relied on this small garden and this small living room, you wouldn’t have this acquaintance without it. Even your cat wouldn’t be ruined by the broken bricks for no reason. The attraction of the tile.
The growth of flowers and grass, the appearance of the living room, is not easy – the city was originally a flower without flowers, grass is not seen. To be exact, the garden is highlighted by a retired old worker who is hired and half responsible. When the turf that was just planted is still languid, the teacher is waiting in the garden when the seeds are sprinkled into the loess. He guards the flowers and plants as a child who guards his own, and eats three meals a day in the garden. He values his guardianship very much, and his extraordinary sense of responsibility makes him feel old and venerable.
However, habits become natural. The habit of a city is like a person’s habit. The rose branches were still secretly cut and inserted into their own flower pots; others also held the string of red in their hands to tease the children; the turf was bald, and perhaps who was dug up and planted into his own small courtyard. Even though the old man has made a sign in the garden and the rules on the fines are declared on the sign, the old man always has to go home to fight.
The old man is determined to come to “kill one hundred and one hundred” and is determined to grab a folding person to show his own hands. Later he finally caught one at night, she is a female painter at my door. When she cut a cluster of roses at midnight with a flashlight, he grabbed her wrist. They quarreled and the noise awakened many residents.
He wants her to pay the money and asks her to pay for the number written on the sign. She argued that she did not intend to steal, but that she needed to paint (flowers).
The old man said humorously: “Drawing, painting, is it a picture of a child stealing flowers?”
People laughed at night.
The painter does not laugh, she only said to the old man: “Draw flowers, not to draw children to steal flowers.”
”What are you doing?” asked the old man.
”To see,” said the painter.
”Who see it?” asked the old man.
”Show it to everyone.”
“Let everyone come to your house to see, there are so many people in your living room.”
“You can go to the exhibition.”
”Do you spend money?”
”Of course you have to buy tickets,” the painter said.
”Oh, what I want is this sentence.” The old man said, “Look at the fake flowers to buy tickets, you can’t take the punishment, can you?”
”Only four,” said the painter.
”1 5 yuan, 4 20 yuan. You are literate, there are brands.” The old man said.
”Not 20 yuan?” asked the painter.
”According to the brand,” the old man said.
“It’s not your garden,” said the painter.
”Who are you talking about?” asked the old man.
”I said it is everyone’s,” said the painter.
”I said it was yours,” the old man said.
”You are really interesting,” said the painter.
”You are interesting,” the old man said.
”You are more interesting than me.”
”I am not as interesting as you are!”
The person who listened laughed happier. The fines for the old workers were fined.
I have never communicated with the female painter about the compensation incident. I just kept paying attention to the rules on the brand. Sometimes I feel that it is reasonable and sometimes it feels too harsh. When I think of the painter as my friend, I feel that the rules are harsh; I think that people need this green living room and think it is reasonable. I am willing to believe the old workers who said about the garden. I think this garden belongs to everyone and belongs to me, just as my living room belongs to me. Do you have the heart to ruin the flowers in your living room and destroy the furnishings in your living room?
In Northern Europe, I have been in the world’s most famous forest green space. The tourists there can’t bear to even throw a small candy paper even if they are alone. Such an atmosphere often reminds you that everything there is in harmony with people, it is yours. I belong to the world, the world is mine; I belong to the river, the river is mine; I belong to the ocean, the ocean is mine; every towering old tree, every delicate grass, they are mine, it is me. Part of life, I love them as much as I love my life, and they give me happiness beyond life itself.
The flowering branches of the small garden are no longer cut off. The sturdy brand in the garden is gone. I have never seen the guardian old man for a long time, but he has created an atmosphere for the garden. In this small living room in the corner of our city, he made people think like this: This living room is mine.