It was a beautiful summer, night fell, the air in the village was full of frog croaking, the sky was blue, the universe seemed deep and mysterious, and billions of stars blinking their eyes to every corner of the world. Pen & Fun & Pavilion www.biquge.info night falls, the heat wave of the day is slowly evaporated, and the slightest cool breeze flows in the air. I wandered around the yard shirtless, sometimes looking at the stars in the sky and imagining, sometimes asking my father all kinds of strange questions.

My father was a playful man at heart, and he happily told my brother and me that he was going to take us for a swim. My brother and I stared at our father with blank expressions and curiosity. My father explained that there were too many people in the village during the day, and he was too embarrassed to swim in it. Take advantage of this dark night to quietly go to the dam to have fun. The two of us clapped and applauded, so the three of us crept closer to the dam, not knowing why my father was so timid, even if he was seen by the people of the village. Children don't always understand the hypocrisy of adults, but we are just as cautious as our fathers, walking and looking around to see if anyone is passing by. There are very few people in the village at night, but there are also old men who go to visit the door and come home very late.

My father was the first to enter the water, and his father's expression told me that the water in the dam was cold. My brother and I followed in my father's footsteps and walked into the dam. I'm worried that the frogs in the water will use me as feed, and that it won't be good for me to bite any part of it. But this worry is unnecessary, and the frogs are afraid to approach us even if they have a hundred thousand fears. I asked my father what was the reason for this, and while he poured the water on his body, he told me that the sun was shining all day during the day, and the water temperature was naturally very hot at night. When I think about it, it does make a lot of sense. Suddenly, we heard a cough not far away, and my father immediately ordered us to hide our bodies in the water and leave our heads out and not move. The three of us looked like scouts in ambush, quietly watching the man who came down. That person was Lao Jing at the head of the village, and he didn't even look back, just coughed all the way down. We secretly rejoice in our own profound hidden technology.

Except for swimming in the dam, it seems that now it is not actually swimming, but just walking in the water. It was still a little difficult to swim in that dam, and since we were all landlubbers, we couldn't swim. At that time, our family did not have fruit trees, and I heard that the fruit trees of the neighbors above had a lot of fruit on them, but I only heard about them, and there was no actual evidence. The neighbors had long since moved away, but the fruit trees were still thriving, and I just saw them from a distance in my own home. It stands to reason that if you go up and pick it up openly, no one will be held accountable. But it was still necessary to consider the opinions of the villagers, so my father came up with a very "risky" plan one night to steal the fruit of the neighbors.

The fun thing about my father was that for this operation, he wore white clothes and a hat, and looked like a thief. Of course, I also took on the role of my father's deputy this time, and my younger brother was still young, so he could only stay at home and wait with his mother for our triumphant return.

Although I was young, I was very adventurous, and I always lurked in front of my father, climbing up and breaking through, and we quickly crawled in the grass under the fruit tree, mingling with the moonlight, and my father whispered to me, don't act rashly yet, wait for the opportunity, and make sure that it is safe before we do it. Every second I crawled in the grass, my little heart kept beating, afraid of being discovered by some mysterious person in the night, and my mind was full of all kinds of coping tactics.

My father and I rushed home with fruit in our pockets, and when we got home, we happily told my mother and brother about the whole process of stealing fruit. Of course, my father's real intention was not to teach us how to steal, but to deliberately exercise our courage and adaptability. It was this action in the moonlight that made my childhood so happy.

In the evening, our family put the table on the concrete steps, and after eating, my parents chatted, and my brother and I sat on the steps to look at the stars, the moon, and the whole universe. My father knew a lot, and pointed to certain stars in the sky to tell us mythological stories, including the story of the Cowherd and the Weaver Girl, but my father didn't seem to be telling a love story. But there is one detail that I remember very clearly, my father said that on the seventh day of July every year, the conversation of the Cowherd and the Weaver Girl could be heard under the vine. For many years afterward, I searched for a place with vines, and at one point I thought of mulberry trees as vines. I believe that that beautiful legend will be true.

In the blink of an eye, the happy summer has become a thing of the past, and the beautiful and warm pictures are turning page by page in my mind. When I grew up, I was plagued by all kinds of troubles, and the smiles on my face became less and less, and the wrinkles on my parents' faces became more and more. We have lost the beauty of yesterday, and we have not kept the time.