Life

Childhood and parents living in the countryside, my parents are the most hard-working and simple people, but also people love gardening.

When I was young, every spring, front and back of the house is full of all kinds of flowers, such as Yan Hongxia mountain azalea, powder if fairy peach and white like snow pear mountain. Peach pear thanked those flowers, parents for opening of: Orange marigold, purple red with morning glory, cockscomb and peony, and white powder henna (Feng Xianhua) and colored steadily high, Canna, flowers showy flowers and flowering of sweet potato, long Yan Qiaoli rose. In May, the roadside fence that row do nearly two metres high and hibiscus tree, pink flowers of the bustling, bees buzzing noisily, attracted passers-by praise.

At that time, these flowers to me, the greatest pleasure is a holiday, and girlfriends together to pick the red henna, and alum mash to nails, or Jiduo flowers inserted in the hair you babble as seven fairy. One boring when you pick a morning glory with the trumpet in the mouth, or watching ants bugs are bustling about in the morning glory horn in drilling drilled.

Gradually, we grow up, each rush thing, see more strange flower, but light has no flowers mood. Suddenly remind of those flowers around the house, I do not know why even when no traces. In front of the door of a large evergreen trees have disappeared, into a blue road, across the door, and a house is wrong to fall. At that time, okay, okay, I am hard-working parents love flowers people, see the yard of four or five strains of rose flower, flower how fat, high above my head. Flowers pink purple Yan Jiao, red, fawn.

At that time, as long as a home, love to spend father would be very happy, also very proud to say with me, early spring, near a lot of neighbor came home pruning home inserted.

After the rain, the dewy rose flowers blossoming Jiao Rong Xian race, I also reluctant to pick one to play, laugh like a head full of flowers of the little girl, the good fairy like flowers. They, remember, this was the tree pool?

Time, repeatedly, life, continued, changing everything. Now, left his hometown for many years, I do not know that the house is good, the father and mother of all around the house for me?

All kinds of flowers, I always miss the hometown in the planting, miss home early in the morning birds chirping branches, urging me to read Jicha sound. After Miss father get up early in the morning, carrying kettle kick tread water walking sound, and mother's morning cooking bellows call Da Da sound. Now, all this is my memory?

Today, my mother called me to go home, a door, see table with sparkling round a basket of tomatoes, a red light is gratifying, full compaction. I walked over, picked up a to put lips. Son, exclaimed: ah, did not wash! The mother said, just under the rain, not dirty. So, I ha ha ha smile, want to put into the mouth are not afraid of the future, but for the children, or on the faucet punching, hurried into the mouth. Sweet, sour, a little bit of, be just perfect. Said the mother, small courtyard in tomato almost to pick up. So, I got up and went into the yard.

A come out only to find, is really good. Mother is a person who love life, she put these ordinary life with the one full of energy; with high spirit. The plain flowers, in her mother's garden in the brilliant flowers, leaves green, with luxuriant foliage, green and healthy, open colorful, is thriving! They are the tall buildings of the world, just like a piece of land of idyllic beauty. No wonder the mother state of mind, we can match.