The courtyard runs a little deeper

Heaven and earth family, courtyard deep. At the age of 30, my fondest memories are of working and playing in the country yard when I was young and ignorant. Courtyard, bearing me, how many of our lingering memories, there, we perceive the myriad of weather, singing with the soil breathing, engraved with traces of home. Heaven, earth and home are gathered together in a courtyard, which is the most tacit heart of Chinese people and nature.
When I was a child, my perception of the vast universe began in a small courtyard. Life in the city is colorful and convenient, but the isolation from heaven and earth also seems to imprison a child’s longing for nature. Only when you return home can you release your nature in connection with the sun, the moon and the stars, so that you can truly feel the harmony and peace of your heart. Early in the morning, I see the eastern sun. There is the rising sun, there is the vigorous light, there are warm curtains falling on me when I clean the yard, and my ruddy face is nourished by the morning light. On the rise, on the steps of the yard quietly chin and sit, there is Wu Gang holding out the osmanthus wine, sweet intoxicant, there is “lonely Chang e Shu Guangxiu”, beautiful qin Xin moving, also have a hand can touch the month cage sand, night like water, breathing side feeling dew gas, cold. In the month rise and fall, the full moon lacks in, comfortable and day, with night, with the month skin close. Star now, summer night, sitting on the deck chair in the yard to keep aside one build what did not build and grandparents to broad, side to gazing at the stars, for the first time deeply fascinated by the “tianhe night drifted back to the star, silver pu cloud learn acoustic” artistic conception, met for the first time “beidou crisscross Sagittarius oblique” “north star hanging high color battle” cheng jing, sigh for the first time in “the way Altair, Jiao Jiao River han female “deep feeling, of course, but also in the coming decades again and again looking forward to their Tanabata reunion, but also often lost in the cloudy and sunny circle of regret…
In the small courtyard, the sun, moon and stars can be seen, smelled, heard, touched, tasted and felt. Here, the sun is warm, the moon is romantic and the stars are bright. The courtyard, intentionally or unintentionally, buried the seeds of looking up at the sky in my heart, so that I could perceive nature in the deep and vast.
As I grew up, my days back home became less and less. I could only stay for a while in the heat of winter to relieve my lovesickness. From then on, I gradually realized that the hands of the massive earth fake courtyard gave people the gift of food and clothing, moistening things silently and continuously. Growing up in the Guanzhong plain, I have also experienced the hardships of wheatcutting in the golden fields. Bending over, dripping with sweat, the sickle passed over, and the stubble of wheat gave up struggling and lay down neatly. I also tried to lift the plough in the field, letting the chaff drift in the wind, leaving full grain. The wheat went to the mill, back to the yard, in grandma’s hands into a bowl of attractive oil spilled noodles; The wheat and straw were compacted and piled up, some of which perished in the fiery fire of the hearth, while others perished in the mud of the roof walls. No food, no gourdiness, a handful of rice to eat, a few houses, the simplest philosophy of living is the eternal connection between man and the earth. Summer vacation, is the hot red pepper township restless season, more people in the village, it was each string of hot pepper fruit to attract the working people ah! Sunrise and make, change long sleeves, tie good pants legs, wear a straw hat, loaded with wheat soup, carrying a small bamboo basket, even if the sweat wet clothes, even if the pepper prick prick hand, even if the pepper hot eyes, also can not stop “pick pepper people” of diligence and enthusiasm. After a quick meal, they picked pepper leaves. However, it was the most relaxing time of the day to pick leaves, chatter, wind blowing, accounting, listening to the frogs and smelling the pepper fragrance. Picking pepper is too bitter, the old man loves me dearly, so I always take advantage of the cool in the early morning in the pepper field walk dada circle, then with grandpa has picked the pepper back to the yard to dry. Spread the “wet pepper” thinly in the yard with plastic film, and let the hot sun suck up the water, leaving the light and more fragrant “dry pepper”. For People in Han City, pepper grows on the earth, becomes in the courtyard, and is attributed to the heart. With this countless spicy, there is a family’s life, and there is a continuation of the home. Where is the garden close to the vegetable and fruit trees? Leek green pepper eggplant tomato peach plum jujube grape…… The colorful and fragrant life erupts from the soil, making the courtyard never lonely, making the meals of the family more healthy, and making the brothers and sisters experience the joy of playing in the orchard without going out. We have tasted the first taste of peaches and plums, and have searched for black and purple sweet and sour under the grape arbor. We have also been in groups carrying long poles to beat down winter dates and holding them for grandma to make steamed jujube paste… It was unspeakable joy.
Small courtyards are deeply rooted in the earth. Square courtyards are the epitome of crisscross fields. Here, we work, we get, and we give thanks. Here, we live in the ordinary, active life, simply happy.
Later, ah, from a hundred miles away to thousands of miles away, with the growth of age, from the Han Yuan courtyard more and more far, sometimes all year round also rarely see. However, I know that my wanderer away from home is like a kite never broken line, even if it is far away, it is always tied by the courtyard, never really go far. Spring rain comes from the sky and falls to the fields, making the earth suddenly full of life. At that time, I always went to the field with my mother to dig wild vegetables, and returned to the small yard to steam a pot of steamed vegetables, baked fragrant white wormwood cake, mixed with spicy garlic sauce, when really this taste should only be in heaven, the world can get a few times to taste; At this time leisurely miss also let me occasionally go to the suburbs of Beijing to find locust flowers and elm money, steamed vegetables, scrambled eggs, just to restore the childhood sweet. The scorching summer sun, the scorching sun gave the yellow land han Yuan the most enthusiastic hot, vigorous pepper incense, but also the achievement of the unique smell of pepper leaves. Dried and crushed and in batter, the big iron wok on the wood stove was rolling with a grate and a wet cloth and batter. The paste with broken pepper leaves in the steam into a piece of cold skin, with juice, code on cucumber silk bean sprouts, end up in the garden under the wall, with a lump in the summer, that is the swan song. To this day, as far away as Beijing, I would like to stock up on packets of pepper leaves in the summer, just to recall the taste of home. The rustling of the autumn wind, the rustling of the wind, that is the singing of the corn field, the wind to snap, that is the sound of ripe broken bracts. At this point, the taste of home is in the yard of cornmeal, GuanZhongRen called “group”, corn flour mixed with a little flour add boiling water, put in beating with chopsticks, until a more thick than thick paste and stir-fry juicy sour cabbage as toppings, it is called “water city”, that is “liao zha” hometown flavor. Winter snow ai ai, day to snow down trillion bumper year, to hide concealing storage next year. This is also the day when people in Seoul enjoy reunion and enjoy leisure. Families sit around on the kang, watching TV, chopping noodles, steaming a pot of steamed buns and wrapping bags of wontons, waiting for the arrival of the New Year…
In this life, the most difficult thing to give up is the taste of home. What is the taste of that home? It is the taste of the big bowl of noodles in the hands of my grandmother and mother, the taste of food I have been accustomed to since childhood, the taste of spring, summer, autumn and winter, rain, snow, wind and sunshine, the smell of loess, the smell of sweat in the field, the smell of heaven and earth, the smell of smoke curling from the small courtyard…
Over the years, you and I have been rushing around in the fast-paced city life, working late into the night and returning to our small square apartment. We seem to have forgotten how we came here — born in the depth of heaven, nurtured in the depth of earth, nurtured in the warmth of home. In a courtyard, we were bred with the yearning for the vast sky, the respect for the simple earth, and the endless attachment to the ordinary home. The philosophy of heaven, earth and home, the unity of heaven and man, was inadvertently sown in the yard, germinated in the yard, blossomed in the yard. People, is the starting point, is also a destination, is the leading, is also a catalyst, series of memories, a section of the story, a picture. The small courtyard, deep enough, embodies the youth of heaven and earth, tells the story of spring and autumn, winter and summer, and nourishes ordinary people through wind, frost, rain and snow…