Sunday, September 12, 2010

Home small thinking - the river of childhood

Back to the home, according to the habit of the past, came to a small river of my childhood, in a relatively flat and sat down on the sand, greedy breathing moist air, so that the lungs are fragrant smoke to enjoy the dry stroke of nature.  looked at the clear water, yellow sand mixed with small stones, and I had just grazed off the shoes, slipped out of socks, stood up, trying to bring their own wildly back to the childhood days. just took a few steps, soles of the feet came the feeling of hot, while the sand pebbles on the Ge I hurt, so I stopped. blankly looked at the world I am familiar with, Castle Peak as usual, is still wilderness, clear rivers on thrown a curl of light waves, the river water the grass with a soft drift, the wind in the Po promoter in the natural swinging. Hill is still, still wild, the river will remain. Why can not as comfortable as a kid to enjoy nature the fun of it?
remember that time very few entertainment projects, a few simple games in three days time it will quickly lose interest, the only interest in us a place to keep these children It is this stream. where we may be only in bare feet chasing each other; may be in the hunt for a few small fish; it may be strange to find a few forms to each stone where hh is always in need of adult cried only reluctantly left home. childhood river brought us much joy.
time, one child urchins into the campus, began to lose a lot of opportunities for close contact with the root stream. We grow up.
through high school, through college until the work force, the place to play is also gradually changing. from the previous game room right now a variety of classes, home of the river has long been in the real world away from the me. but it always came into my dreams. Every home should go to the river recall the past time, it has long been integrated into the inside of my heart, memories of my growing process.
tender voice while floating into my ears looked back, a group of children ran into the whirlwind barefoot through the sand in the river, there is no care about the hot sand with the hard stones, see they seem to see my childhood.
I understand, home of the river has not changed, the change is me. since left home, living alone and away at school after the hard asphalt of the building with the skyscraper has become the main theme of my life, rich rural atmosphere away from my life now has become increasingly distant, and accustomed to wearing shoes socks feet long can not adapt to changes in the delicate bare feet. Maybe roots many years later I was once again away from the city of neon lights, once again into to the home river. Perhaps no future opportunity to work with as a child, close contact with the river. love it can not close it, and perhaps the sorrow of the so-called civilized society.
home river to witness the joy of my childhood , records the end I was growing up, leaving behind sweet memories. But now I can not, as before in your arms like a baby out. In fact, having the same river it is, as we enjoy our pursuit of modern civilization , some have given you the fun things are gradually away from you, is called a loss of income it will have some.
slowly put on socks and shoes, walked along the river, and my heart seemed to something missing, do not mind my life is my life? gust of wind blowing, and reveals a cool and humid, the mind at that moment seemed to wake up. Yes, maybe even forever I can not enjoy a happy childhood, but I have experienced, it might be possible again after the owner of it. raised his head, wicker rocking gently with the wind, they are returned in welcoming me this far away from home now.

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