Scenery of the path

Flat and wide roads, bumpy paths, which one would you like to take?

From my dormitory to the unit, ten minutes away, I always abandon the main road and choose that path. It is narrow and tortuous, with several uphill and downhill slopes. There are gravel, glass slag, medicine slag and even poop of small animals on the road. The road is muddy on rainy days, often soiling my shoes, and my high heels are always stuck in the dirt. Still, I have an indescribable fascination with it.

The area around here is full of low bungalows, dilapidated and row upon row. I always call this place "slum" mercilessly ". However, here seems to be dilapidated, but also has its own unique scenery. When the weather is fine, the bright sheets fluttering in the wind become the flag here. The women here especially like to make pickles. In summer, there is only a little clean sun in the alley, drying green cucumber slices and bitter gourd slices. Later, they washed big pots of white ginger. On sunny days in winter, large bream fish, strings of sausages and thick duck legs are covered with telephone poles and clothes poles.

There are several pots of flowers and plants at the door of almost every household here, including fragrant roses, faint violets, winding cypress, bright red pomegranate flowers, pale blue morning glory... I like cypress very much, they climb on the corner of the house and on the bamboo pole. From a distance, they are green and loose, dotted with hundreds of red trumpets, which is very attractive. There is a family of roses, like a very precious variety, light yellow petals layer upon layer, orange flower bud brilliant eye-catching, the whole flower has a bowl mouth big, her high face, no less elegant peony. There are not many flowers, but each one seems to be doing its best to bloom more beautifully and more stretched. If you're careless, you'll think it's a handmade plastic flower stuck in the soil. One day after passing there, the hostess shouted that when she washed a dish, the flowers were folded away when she came back. Although it was a complaint, it was not difficult to hear that she was very proud of the treasure of the flower. I think, I haven't stolen flowers, I am loathe to give up.

In fact, it is not surprising to plant some flowers and plants. The most incredible thing is the vegetables grown by others. In this "slum" which is too close to breathe, where is there any vacant land to dig up a ridge of vegetable fields for you? But if you think that vegetables can only grow in the land, then you are too ignorant! You see, flowerpots with large bowls, cans with missing mouths, discarded tin white wine packaging boxes, tattered foreign porcelain pots, mottled paint buckets, white foam boxes, all of which you did not expect have been used! They are filled with earth and planted with garlic sprouts, radishes, cabbage, spinach and chives. Although they are confined in this cramped and narrow space, they are still working hard to grow, and each one strives to become greener, taller and fatter. And these pots and pans are filled with vibrant green, it's just beautiful! It can be called the most beautiful scenery in this "slum.

At the corner of the road, there was a Scottish shepherd. I heard someone call it "Xidi". I don't know how old it is. Every time he walked by, he always looked at me gently, just waiting for me to smile at him, he immediately came over with his tail wagging, squatting down, his head sideways, and asked me to touch him. I say "shake hands" and it extends one hand; I say "the other" and it extends the other. I touched it again, looked at it for a while, and had to get up and go. As if it was more reluctant to part with me, it also got up and walked slowly with me a few steps, wagging its tail to watch me until I couldn't see it. It is always so gentle, quiet and lonely.

Later, when I was pregnant, my friends who worked with me forbade me to take the path again, saying it was dirty and difficult to walk, for fear of bumping into it. During that time, I felt lost and always felt itchy to see it. One day, I was alone, or could not help but turn from the alley into the path. For a girl from the mountain city of Chongqing, this short road is of course a piece of cake. At the door of the low house, the fire was booming in the water-burning stove, giving off a slight aroma of smoked wood. The old couple were still making fragrant fried dumplings. The flowers and plants are still there, and the side dishes are still luxuriant. The pug with pigtails saw me as fierce and small.

I saw Xidi lying on his stomach at the door of my house from a distance. I smiled and walked quickly, but it slowly got up and walked towards me. Xidi is old. I didn't expect it to be seen for only a few months. It looks like this. The hair was not as smooth and tidy as it used to be, and it fell to the ground in clumps everywhere, and even the flesh was loose. Tears in the eyes, eye droppings are also piled in the corner of the eye. Without taking care of it, I stretched out my hand and touched its shoulder. It raised its head obediently and closed its eyes slightly, as if enjoying this long-lost cordial greeting.

On the path, there will always be endless scenery and endless stories. Next time you meet the path, will you walk in?