The new environment, the new position, and another recruit, familiar with the business, as an improvement, the writing persevered, and it really achieved results, and there were constantly "tofu blocks" in the newspaper, and several papers were published.

When the troops were frustrated, the practice of silently reciting or conceiving before going to bed that had been abandoned for a while was picked up again, just for writing needs, which was relatively simpler, digging up some themes every day, typing the manuscript in the bottom of my heart, and falling asleep.

The economy developed, the conditions improved, small cars began to enter ordinary households, and soon I also had a car of my own, driving alone, especially like to be quiet, holding the steering wheel with one hand and leaning against the window with the other, doing nothing but being in a daze.

With a car, it is easy to walk, and I often travel with my family on weekends.

On the Phoenix Mountain, the nunnery that once squeezed down ten families has long since collapsed, rubble is everywhere, overgrown with weeds, the bamboo forest spreads for most of the back mountain, and grows until it grows under the tall maple tree, the old house is still there, it has been dilapidated, and it is located alone in the field.

There is a big tree in front of the door,

The shade of the trees blocks the path in front of the door,

The roots of the big trees are intertwined,

There are countless ghost stories under the trees.

There is a small river in front of the door,

A few steps by the river,

Mother's laundry figure,

Often accompanied by the morning sun.

There is an open space in front of the door,

Flat and spacious,

Bamboo branches are planted on the edges,

Threes, threes, twos and twos are crossed with bamboo poles.

This is the threshing field, and it is also the place where the friends play,

Will there still be a childhood?

They also play hide and seek under the trees and touch shrimp in the river.

The golden autumn is coming in October, the county is expanding, on both sides of the river, the gravel road that used to be replaced by cement asphalt, leading to the countryside, receiving the door of ordinary people's homes, Chongyang night, the moonlight is like washing, and the evening is for a ride, and there is no mood.

On the night of Chongyang, neon lights adorn the late autumn moon. In the late autumn moon, the cold light is like jade, invading the wilderness. The lonely maple in the field hangs red leaves, and the red leaves are condensed and wept like blood. Crying is like blood, the four seas are difficult to prosper, and a thousand cups are difficult to solve.

When I go home at night, I don't sit on the bench anymore, I don't stand guard at night, I don't have a quick whistle, I don't check the shop by name, I feel relaxed, but I always feel that something is missing, or something is missing.

Watching TV is a kind of enjoyment, the sofa is comfortable, there are armrests next to it, there are cushions on the back, the front dim sum, the remote control is at hand, the program is rich, the channels are different, you can choose the station at will, if you have company around you, talk while watching, the most comfortable state is to fall asleep while watching, wake up from sleep, and then doze off while watching.

It has become a habit to get up early, there is a military camp near the house, the spring breeze crosses the bank, the river is green, Jun Mo Yan is early, there is a military horn loudly, and the flute has broken the dawn! Xinwu in the morning, the cold dew condensation, the murmuring river, the fog lock the south of the Yangtze River.

The days are flying, there is a season of scenery, the former classmates and teenagers, gathered in Yecheng, the school has moved to the county seat, here became the local junior high school, and later became the primary school, roughly the same, the scene is vague.

The gate is still there, the wide basketball court and football field are gone, there is a straight passage, the two sides are planted with tall sycamores, walking through the greenery, laughter floating, traveling through time and space to sense the high school days, there are mountain streams camping, there are creekside picnics, there are impromptu mountain climbing, there are drunken stars, and the days are really flying.

In the past, above the wealth, the westernmost mountain of the county, there is an ancient temple in the depths, this is the Baizhang Temple, the birthplace of the Qing rules in the world, the old abbot accumulates good fate, expands the land in the original site and builds another, the pavilion and pavilion show luxury, and the carved railing painting building is magnificent.

Embrace the mountains, the Buddha gate is pure, surrounded by green cypress and green bamboo, the light mist gathers at the top of the temple like auspicious clouds, several families are scattered around the temple, there are occasional chickens and dogs barking, in addition, the ears will only hear the "whirring" sound of the wind sweeping through the jungle, a quiet place.

During the period when the Tang Dynasty monk Huaihai presided over this, he established the rules of Buddhism, the most famous of which is the sentence "one day does not do, one day does not eat". Buddhism deduces the past, present, future, self, and universe, and can realize something, and every bit is a Buddha.

The morning light is like a veil, and you can see people when you open the red dust. Under the bamboo sea, one hand is on the railing and the other hand is tea.

Hometown visits, parents and relatives are still alive, only the old house, from the Ming and Qing dynasties, after years, finally collapsed, only two exterior walls remained, standing still, recounting the past, leaving memories.

Ying Xing's hometown wanderer, step by step to pick up the child's fun, step by step to pick up the east to chase, step to pick up the west to avoid. Former partners, going out to do business, working to make a living, only the old man, the young figure, it is difficult to see one or two.

In the second year after changing jobs, my younger brother got married, bought a house in the county and started a family, and his parents followed, leaving the bath, and often invited his father to fish together. Two or three branches of the lotus pond, four or five cicadas chirp willows, six or seven places of long rod idle fishing, eight or nine catties of rich carp fat catfish.

My grandmother's family lived at the foot of the mountain, and when she was alive, she always wanted to visit, and after a few years, she grew older and finally passed away. Qingming green field looking for immortals, the king of medicine passed away and the king of Yue stayed, after the king of Yue Zhang Tianshi, everyone knows that the tiger ascends to the immortals.

The gun used to be a part of one's own life, and the bullet was an extension of the arm, infinitely loyal, roaring and rushing towards the target. At that time, the target paper in the eyes was extremely clear, the impact point could be seen clearly, the bullet was alive, I could feel its joy, I could feel its rhythm, and I would never doubt its loyalty.

The police pistol, which is much smaller than the May Fourth of the army, holds the gun again, but there is a sense of strangeness, no matter how hard the gun is in the hand, it can't control the shaking, the legendary moment of stillness can no longer appear, the eyes are no longer sharp and even a little muddy, and after firing, it is completely impossible to see the point of impact.

By feeling and luck, the gun is aimed and fired mechanically, and the gun has no life bullets and no self-confidence, as if the blood of a soldier has been drained, the results are not good, and even the target will be missed.

The army has left a mark on the body, cherishes the honor, fulfills the mission, and at the time of parting, the sentence left by the head of the unit "to discredit the military uniform" has the greatest impact, and he never dares to forget it, and he is always vigilant about himself.

The memories of the military have not been forgotten because of the change of jobs, just like the separation of life and death between lovers, bit by bit, all flowing in my heart.

If I haven't met you in this life,

How simple,

There will be no sorrow,

will not be melancholy,

Loneliness is not written on the face all day long.

If I haven't met you in this life,

How simple,

will not be stubborn,

won't be strong,

I don't have pain engraved on my heart because of this.

If I haven't met you in this life,

What a blessing,

will not part,

Won't wander,

I don't take the light as warmth through the window.

If I haven't met you in this life,

What a blessing,

Won't miss,

will not watch,

I won't lie on the table and cry my clothes.

The new place of work is in the countryside, and an osmanthus tree in front of the door grows very well, and in March, it is full of tender green new leaves, and it is crowded to bend the branches. After a spring rain, clusters are close to each other, and it seems that life can be seen in rhythm.

The leaf buds awakened by the spring breeze have an extraordinary desire for life, not only do they desperately grow crazy, but also pull the branches outward, because the farther they go, the more they enjoy the sunshine and rain and dew.

Even so, the branches of the tree could not keep up with the growth, and became thin and long, even so, they still stood up, holding the leaves to the sun, as if they could not bear the weight of life, and the outer branches stretched the whole tree into the shape of a mushroom, giving shape and adding beauty.

Close your eyes and listen, the notes of life are played in time and space, and the soul is full of awe, which is a tenacious awe of life.

Some insights, when Hangzhou was in service, the speech "I am a leaf" was recalled, such as the leaves strive for green, do not work hard, can not win the sun, affect growth, there will be no green, and even the middle way is light, turned into dust, maybe something should be done.

Youth seems to have begun to sprout again, passion seems to have begun to appear again, just work hard regardless of the result, life is still young, time can not be wasted, otherwise you may regret it in the future.

Everyone has their own horn, and it is a unique horn, and the horn has been blowing non-stop on the road of life, but sometimes it is loud, sometimes it is blown, sometimes it is blown, sometimes it is blown low.

Life has its ups and downs, how many people have never carefully wiped their horns, how many people have never sorted out their horns, and many more people may never realize that they have ever had a horn in their lives.

A clarion call that makes one's life full of splendor, exaggerates and legends, struggles in one's life, exalts words in one's life, makes one's life fearless, and makes one's life go through ups and downs.

I also have my own horn, which in my childhood led me to salute the five-star red flag, to share the stories of battle heroes with my partners on the back of a bull, and to watch the high-flying goshawk fly my dreams.

When I was young, it led me to step into the society with pride, to accept the baptism of reality, to make contributions to my post, to work hard and forge ahead, and to build a family and build harmony and warmth.

Occasionally, I saw the goshawk flying high, such as the road to study, that section of the path, the sharp sunlight tore through the darkness, pierced into the closed heart that had been covered with dust for a long time, and in the clear sky, I saw my horn again, and I could blow the horn of the highest battle march.

The horn was bright and shining, and the golden light flashed and shimmered, as if telling me stories about its companion and its owner, experiencing the joy of childhood, the sorrow of youth, the bitterness of youth, the pain of growing up, and the joy of success.

Youth sprouts again, passion stirs again, stretches out his hands, holds the horn, there are still dreams in his heart, there are still longings in his chest, he still has to pick it up, blow it again, his horn, can not let depression cover the light.

Just like a casual trip with his children, he is in the second grade of primary school, he is so sensible that it is heart-wrenching, his talent is not too good, but he studies very hard, and his grades are among the best, and his immature voice said a touching word, "Dad, we are all warriors, you fight for work, I fight for ranking".

The past military brigade, the former comrades-in-arms, you continue to move forward, I will work with you on another road, and I will also be on another road, silently bless you.

Write down your feelings on paper,

The ink has dried,

folded into an airplane,

Chase the hour.

Write down your feelings on paper,

Ten lines of tears,

Fold into stars,

The sky is hanging high.

Write down your feelings on paper,

Thoughts of the Ten Elements,

folded into a paper crane,

Pray to be strong.