White, the first color

The gentle breeze blows across the face, so the ears of rice all over the mountains exude a rich fragrance.

If you have to say that this fragrance has a color, it must be white, the original color......

I remember when I was a child, I stood on the halfway of the terraced fields, not knowing where the top of the field was, and I didn't know where the bottom was.

But when I heard the sound of "Dangdangdang" coming from nowhere, I would subconsciously show a smile, face the breeze, meet this familiar sound, and take me out of the confusion.

The source of the voice is an old grandfather, the old man is very old, the wrinkles on his face, it feels like the skin of a big tree, after the wind and frost, as if he is very close to anyone, the eyes are very textured.

Every season, the old man would always come to our village on a very dilapidated bicycle, and we who had been looking forward to it for several seasons naturally ran to this old man with great joy.

What attracted us was not the old man's bicycle, nor his bark-like wrinkles, but the sound of "dang dang dang".

When the sound sounded, the fragrance that was like the rice field also came out, and it reached the nose of each of us, as long as we inhaled it violently, it was easy to distinguish that it was the old man who came, that the old man came with "maltose......

The fragrance of maltose is the same as the rich aroma of rice ears in the terraced fields, except that the rice ears are golden and the maltose is white.

The white maltose was very sweet and a little sticky to the teeth, but at that time, we loved it very much.

The sound of "Dangdangdang" is the movement of the old man hammering the carving knife with a small hammer and hitting the maltose, which is very crisp and ethereal.

We would go all over the mountains looking for leftover plastic bottles and jars, or discarded leather utensils, a drink bottle in exchange for a small piece of maltose, and a hard leather slipper in exchange for a large piece......

That's what I remember from my childhood.

The golden yellow that swayed in the wind.

The old man with the wrinkles of bark.

The sound of "dangdang" that comforts the soul.

That carefree, innocent white.

……

……

It's so pure and natural.

Later, I stood on the roof of the building with the breeze howling, and saw those white dandelions floating in the air on the barren hillside, flying, not knowing where to fly, falling, not knowing where home was far away......

Shadow Detective/Author

November 12, 2017