Chapter 17 June

Longing for June is longing for the tender green cry of "Cicada", the transparent river water and the purple mulberries in the mysterious jungle by the river. The day before yesterday, I went to Xiangshan Mountain, stood on the Xianglu Peak and looked far away. My eyes followed the crests and valleys of the mountains, and I saw the bright golden sun shining in the distance, and there was a river flowing away between the lush forests and the light white mist. A gust of wind blows, soft and cool, and vaguely feels that I have gone to a distant place. Wearing shorts and a vest, I walked into the small river in the cool water and calamus breath, rushing to stop the clear waves rushing to the outside of the mountain.I vaguely feel that it is June under the golden sun, which is fresh, warm, light and cool in June. The rhododendrons at the foot of the cliff are blooming redly in clusters, and the roses on the cliff are blooming sweetly in clusters, " Got it" yelled on the treetops, the river flowed between the banks of the green leaves, the mysterious purple mulberries protruded from the green mulberry leaves amid the trembling humming of the golden wings of the bees, the sour, sweet, cool and hot June And the childhood that is always new in my memory, suddenly my eyes are wet, my distant south, the distant years, the distant hills, the distant June, am I already old?

There is a horrifying memory in my heart, like a rising tide in the sea, like a dandelion blooming in the northern wilderness in June, like a purple swallow flying over the cliff on the clear stream, after I walked down the Xiangshan Mountain, I still looked back, Yiyi looked at the incense burner peak in the white clouds, and looked at the years behind her forever. June, a time of warm colors, a day to go away and overlook. I spent my childhood in southern Jiangxi, and it was in June like this that I climbed up the tree barefoot, caught the "Cicada" alive on the treetop, tied it with sewing thread, held it and chased it to fly , and then walked into the small river, stepped forward on the clean pebbles in the transparent river water, walked to the jungle by the river, deep in the dark green, suddenly a few points of deep purple, some points of light red, revealed the information of mulberry, So I jumped ashore, grabbed the mulberry branches, picked off the purple mulberries, and put them into my mouth one by one. stained red.In the cool wind, green grasshoppers flip over the leaves and dance, tigers and dragonflies chase red-headed flies pretending to eat mulberries, cuckoos call in the golden wheat fields, starlings walk by the water looking for ink-spotted tadpoles.

Childhood is far away, and June comes every year as scheduled, sending me a ray of sadness with the wind.I plan to go to the hills in the south in June, return to the south in June, climb on the hills in the south in June, or walk in the small rivers in the south in June - only walking in the small rivers in the south, I feel kindly Until I am not too old, because of my walking, the clear current of a river overflows to both banks.