Think of the Huaishugou Village without a ditch. Think of the big locust tree that was destroyed by the fire. Think of the big canal with childhood laughter. I want to grow up with me, leave my footprints, and give me the hometown of laughter-Huaishugou Village.

Time is most afraid of looking back, no matter how far you go, you always feel that it is yesterday when you look back. I left my hometown in 1993. Although I have been back to my hometown from time to time during this period, I still remember what I looked like when I was a child. In recent years, since my parents no longer live in their hometowns, the number of times they go home is even rarer.

Being in the bustling downtown, I remembered my hometown, the place where I grew up. It feels like time is just flickering. It has been more than 20 years since I left my hometown. I don’t know how the days of more than 20 years are strung together, but in the past more than 20 years, the appearance of hometown and the funny stories of childhood have always been played in the brain over and over again.

I went back once a few years ago, although my family members have persuaded: Why go back and see? I haven’t lived in it for many years, and the house that used to be good in the village has now become the worst house in the whole village, and it’s even about to collapse. I still insisted on going back and taking a look. The cave dwellings where people lived in the past have all collapsed, and the houses in front of the cave dwellings have been leveled into crop fields.

Standing at the mouth of the previous ditch, I realized that the deep and deep ditch that I could not see at a glance was now much shorter. There is no longer a household in the ditch, and all of them have moved to live on the ditch. The gilded brick houses are next to each other, and dozens of families are connected side by side.

A concrete street is sandwiched between two rows of houses, with persimmon trees on both sides of the street. The time I went back was not in autumn. I couldn’t see the splendor of the streets being stained with persimmon trees, but when I saw a few bright red persimmons hanging on the trees that had fallen out of their leaves, I could feel the autumn sunshine. The incomparable beauty on a string of red persimmons. I wandered leisurely in every corner of the village, even the corners that I rarely visited when I was young.

I don’t know what I want to do, I am tossing the memories of the past, looking for the familiarity of the past; or I look at the strangers of the present and engrave it all in the memory. The sun fell under the mountain that I couldn’t see, and I was like a roof that had been warmed for a day, and I didn’t want to just sleep peacefully in the dark. Most people in the village here have already eaten dinner, and people chatting beside the haystacks and the firewood are everywhere.

When I walked out of the courtyard and walked to the haystacks where many people lay, I seemed to be able to smell the smell of the sun and feel the warmth of nature in the world. There are also those simple local accents that talk about the country and make up for the longing in my heart .

Familiar, because I have been here, I was born and grew up here. But when I really walked around the whole village, I felt strange everywhere. Strange roads, strangers, and strange children, who seem so familiar, but can’t tell his name or surname.

In this state of mind, I opened my eyes and turned my happy memories, and faced them again and again. Suddenly, I suddenly felt that what I was doing seemed to have done it before. It’s just that I can’t think of the result at the time.