Chapter 3 horseshoe

This is the story told by a chair made of bamboo and wood. It seems to be a bamboo forest when I was young again, the green leaves are whirling, the sun is shining bright spots, and little Anda is running on the grass. Flocks of birds are flying around, expressing their joy with singing. Anda has become a horse from childhood to youth. It hides its loneliness very well. Listening to it will also make you feel relaxed and happy. One year, the villagers in the cottage area used red paper cut horses to paste on the black painted wooden doors to pray for auspiciousness. Anda walked in through such a door with bundles of bamboo on his back.

Then flick mosquitoes and flies with his tail in the stables, watching the bamboo it transports be made into rocking chairs. Catch up with the rainy season, the horse manure in the stables smells like stench. The umbrella was held in her hand, and with a bang, a beautiful flower bloomed. The girl under the umbrella was a child who was afraid of getting her feet wet when it rained. trouser legs. When the weather is fine, she will lie down in the rocking chair under the grape trellis. For her thin and small, the rocking chair is equivalent to a bed. Anda was chewing hay in the stable not far away, as patient as a woman.

My daughter climbed up and down on the rocking chair, crawling around, and occasionally a grape leaf would fall off.She held the leaf with her small hands and walked to the stable, and asked Anda: "Little red horse, oh, Anda, why did the leaves fall before the grapes grew?" Anda shrugged his nose and sniffed the sweetness of the grape leaves, and then said intoxicatedly: "Just like we shed some hair every day and grow fresher ones, the grapes are probably like this, in fact, the grape leaves themselves will tell your." Every life has its own different voice, but sometimes we can't hear it, or can't understand it.

The snail climbed up slowly at the bottom of the vine, and when it got tired, it curled up in its little house. My daughter thought it was like a button on her clothes. The snail began its long journey on the vine, initially due to its own desire for grapes.It wants to climb to a high place by itself, and the grapes will probably grow well. Anda is in the stable, and the daughter will tell it these interesting things. Anda always strained his ears, listening very carefully. The bamboo and wood rocking chair is immersed in the happiness it brings to the daughter every day.Nannan is just as naughty as Anda when she was a child.Back then in the bamboo forest, when the wind blew, the bamboos waved their emerald green palms, and the sound of horseshoes could be heard from far away.

Shanzhai people like to play suona. A piece of red silk is tied to the brass pipe, and the voice winds along the mountain road and spreads far away, with a sad tone. Adachi would be affected by this atmosphere and slowed down. Anda has brought bamboo back to his home countless times, and watched the bamboo turn into rocking chairs. He loves every rocking chair.It seems that some kind of childhood memory is made into a story and stopped in one place. The story—the past, Adachi thought so. The horseshoe clack...the sound resounded on the bluestone road again.Anda felt that he was about to meet the little master, and his steps became brisk.

The gloomy weather portends some kind of disaster, and flocks of birds flying north say their farewells. "Anda, leave the bamboo and go, the mountain torrent is coming, otherwise it will be too late." "Ninny, nannie." Anda ran home like crazy. Later, the flood swallowed everything, and no one knew about Anda, my daughter, and the vine that shed its leaves so early that my daughter questioned. A rocking chair drifted with the water to the middle and lower reaches of the Yangtze River.There is also a button-like snail stuck to the armrest. What a nice rocking chair.It should be comfortable to sit on.

If you happen to be an elderly person. In the evening sun.Pretending to be asleep, the boy's past came flooding in.You will find that bamboo and wood chairs also tell stories, confusing you and making your memories somewhat confused. It was like a maroon pony running from the bluestone road, its hooves clattering... the sound came from far to near, but it was clear and ruthless.