In my hometown, there is an "old apricot tree" on the sidelines of the second uncle's house, and now it seems that it has lost its vitality and vigor. But on its sturdy trunk, you can still feel its strength and flexibility. It did not fall down by itself under the ravages of time, nor was it killed by lightning on a night of thunder and lightning, it chose the most difficult path, that is, to live silently.

The earliest memory of the old apricot tree is traced back to an old photo. That photo isn't really old, after all, the hero on it is me, but to me, it's really an old photo with a time mark. In the photo, I am sitting on a bicycle and smirking, and I can vaguely see that the background in this photo is an apricot tree. The apricot tree was still in its prime, and its green leaves looked very green, like a teenager, childish. Whenever I picked up that photo, I couldn't connect the apricot tree back then with the apricot tree now, and I asked my mother suspiciously, but my mother was a little angry. She said to me: It's not the same tree back then, it's still a tree somewhere!

My deepest memory of the apricot tree is not the photograph, because when the cameraman pressed the shutter, I was a baby, without any emotion, without any memory, I was actually an object, and the adults put me there in order to leave something for this object, and then left these objects in the camera.

I clearly remember that in the wheat season, grandpa and grandma were busy working in the field, and a fat girl in the village said to grandpa with a hippie smile: "Second brother, give us your apricots to eat!"

Grandpa deliberately joked and said, "No, go to your house to eat!" Grandpa said no, but the girl had already walked under the apricot tree, followed by not only one, but several in the village.

Grandma jokingly said to the group of children, "Just pick some and save some for our grandchildren!"

I only heard someone respond and promise: Got it.

Like monkeys, a group of older children climbed straight up the tree to pick apricots. At that time, apricots were also a rarity, and there were many apricot trees in the village, but the fruit of our apricot tree was particularly delicious. A few of the older children were a little greedy, and they ate on the trees themselves, not to mention, and wrapped a lot in their clothes. They shook violently on the trees, and many ripe apricots were swept down. Grandpa was a little distressed when he saw it, and rushed up with a broom, and a group of them "monkeys" slipped down from the tree, and grandpa took a broom to catch up behind, and they ran in front, which made everyone in the field laugh. The fat girl's rogue laughter still echoes in my head.

Not only was she not grateful for eating our apricots, but the fat girl blamed her when she ran away: "Second brother, you are too stingy! Don't you just pick a few apricots, as for being so stingy!" Grandpa caught up with a broom, and the fat girl giggled and disappeared into the village.

My father would sometimes climb up the tree and shake it with his feet on the branches, and the yellow apricots would fall to the ground, and we would run up and pick them up in straw hats and take them to the shade to eat them together. The third aunt found a stone, she likes to eat apricot pits, and she will give us some to eat after she smashes it.

After that year, it is said that the fat girl's family moved away, and the fat girl's hearty laughter can no longer be heard. On the apricot tree in my house, there was no sign of those children. Maybe the one who grows up grows up, and the one who marries the man marries the ......

We had the ability to climb the apricot tree, and before the apricots were ripe, we quietly climbed up the apricot tree and picked the green apricots. When we couldn't pick off the branches, we closed our eyes tightly and enjoyed the sourness brought by the green apricots. When I was a child, my family rarely ate fruit, and the apricot tree gave us the best fruit. When it was time for the apricots to ripen, the apricot tree was empty, and it stood there embarrassed, eager to report a bunch of us hungry children. If you are careful, there will still be some surprises, on the treetops of the apricot tree, there are a few yellow apricots hanging sporadically, we happily call the adults, urge them to take the long pole from the tree to smash down, we are like a treasure, happily hold the yellow apricots to the adults.

Gradually, our lives improved, and our eyes no longer focused on the old apricot tree. When we eat apples and pears, we can't remember to patronize the sour apricots. I don't know that in a few spring and autumn, the apricots have changed from green to yellow, and then naturally fallen off, and it stands there lost, longing for someone to taste its sweetness. In those seasons when spring goes to spring, maybe only grandparents take a broom under the old apricot tree, more than one day to sweep those ripe apricots together, in the process of sweeping, grandpa will definitely sit down, pick up the ripe apricots and stuff them into his mouth, and then show a kind smile. Later, even my grandfather no longer cherished the apricot tree, he went to another world, and I seemed to see my grandmother silently walking under the old tree, her heart must have mixed feelings, and my grandmother would squat down, pick up the ripe fruit, taste it, and then sweep it together.

Now, every time I go home, I always look at the old apricot tree. It doesn't matter if it bears sweet apricots or not, as long as I see it still standing firm, my heart will be at peace. As long as I see its body, I can still feel that everything is still there.

Of course, I am not the only one who is full of emotion on that old apricot tree. Last year, Brother Hao wrote an article, after returning to his hometown to see the old apricot tree. At that time, I saw it with tears in my eyes, indeed, it is no longer a simple tree, but a carrier of all nostalgia and good memories. We're all nostalgic for it, just as we are nostalgic for the good old days.

I hope that the old apricot tree will still live strongly, so that our memories can still be stored there, and when we return there, we will still remember the morning and twilight of the past. I believe that it is impossible to return to the liveliness of that field, but our memory can still hear the laughter of the fat girl and the coughing of grandpa......

Old apricot tree! This is rare, let's live strongly!