C7

At the front and back of the school were trees, and from spring to summer, the forest was filled with the sounds of birds. Early in the morning, we sat in the classroom reading, like a bunch of toads, and the birds in the woods responded with a gentle hum. It could be said that my childhood passed with the cries of the chickadees.

The chickadee is the general name for many of the birds that come to my hometown in the spring. Around the valley rain, you suddenly hear the short cry of birds one morning, the clear sky, you see a few black spots in a flash and then disappear, this is not your illusion of vision, but the first chickadees come.

Their feathers were tawny and not bright. They looked like sparrows, but they were much smaller than sparrows, and there were three brown streaks on their foreheads. We called them "Three Eyebrows."

In less than three days, the bird also appeared. The bird's feathers were green, and the male bird's head was wrapped in a green scarf. It looked stiff and sluggish, like a big fool squatting in the corner and basking in the sun in the winter.

When you find "Three Eyebrows" and "Green Head", a small green bird the size of a hummingbird called "Willow Leaf" jumps on the branch. There was also a kind of grey-blue bird known as a cow dung ball, which flew back and forth among the trees.

The nobles of the chickadees are "yellow bellies" and "ox-tailed men", both wearing "royal" yellow bellybands. The yellow-bellied man was wearing a red cloak, and his round, sparkling eyes were wide open. He had a short, black-gray beak, and his body was fat and imposing. It was just that the cow-tailed man had small, docile eyes and a longer tail. He often followed the herd and sometimes landed on the body of the cow to peck at the lice on its body.

At that time, the village, the fields, the river bank, the mountain sparrows, all kinds of pleasant calls from all directions, the adults busy in the fields, the children chasing birds all over the field. At the time, birds seemed to be used for hunting, and the children of that time never thought of protecting them. But there was no lack of birds, and the cries of birds never ceased and never ceased throughout the spring and summer.

There are several ways to catch a bird. One is to lure it with a bird cage. Hanging the ingenious design of the bird cage on the tree, there was a bird inside the cage. It kept on chirping, attracting other birds of the same species. This bird is called "bird bait". It is like a traitor, helping Japanese devils to kill people. A curious bird flew over to see what was going on. It landed on a plank and fell into the cage, unable to get out. Using a bird trap first has to choose a water source or grass seeds more insects, in the bird trap put good bait, the general bait is the bract of the worm. Then dig a hole, bury the trap in the fine soil, and expose the worm, which must be alive. When the bird sees a worm writhing back and forth, it will eat it, and it will be caught in a trap; third, it will hit the bird with a slingshot. It is a simple and fun way to invest less and get things done quickly. I like the third way, but I don't have a slingshot of my own.

One summer when I was a child, I saw other children shooting at birds with their slingshots, and the sound of the birds made my heart itch. In the farmhouse at the time, the "Ya" shaped tree branch was easy to find, but the rubber band on it was hard to find. I was depressed for a long time, but I couldn't get the slingshot I had always dreamed of. I could only watch enviously as the other children happily chased after the birds.

After a long time, I traded a few pinball balls, the kind of glass balls that play on the ground, for a tray of bird traps with Baldy Guo. I picked up a willow leaf with that one. The moment I discovered that the "willow leaf" I hit was struggling in the trap while lying in ambush nearby, I was so excited that my heart almost jumped out of my chest.

After a while, I finally had my own slingshot, so making bullets became an important task for me. A few of us went to the pit where Sidanko had left off and dug out a large clump of yellow slime. I climbed up to the barn and covered the yellow mud with my hands first. When the yellow mud is ready, knead the yellow mud into a ball of mud 1.5 cm in diameter. Try to make the ball as round as possible. If the ball is not round, it will not be easy to walk the straight road. Once the mud ball is ready, put it in a cool, dry place to dry. Just wait until the mud ball is completely dry. If the mud ball is exposed to the sun, it will crack easily. Anyway, there's a lot of learning here. I like the feeling of holding the slingshot and aiming it to shoot the ball of mud, which flies out fast with excitement and longing...

I was so impressed by the chickadees of my childhood. I chased them all over the mountains and fields, but because of my stupidity, I didn't catch many chickadees throughout my childhood. Maybe it was because I was still a primary school student at the time, but primary school students couldn't shoot many chickadees. I made up my mind to study hard. When I grew up, I would be admitted to a pheasant university. Once I graduated from a pheasant university, I would be able to hunt pheasants. That would be much bigger than a chickadee.

Now, as I stood on the field of my childhood, I could no longer hear the chirping of the chickadees. I was wondering why the birds had disappeared despite the fact that people were so aware of the environment these days. Suddenly I felt how terrible it was to be in a field without birds.

We were taught by a new male teacher. His eyes weren't big, but they were lively and he wore glasses. I always have a reverence for people who wear glasses, because people who wear glasses are learned people, such as the scientists, who wear glasses. If any of the students wore glasses, it would be the best student. It was not until many years later, when the village dogs had put on their glasses, that my view was ruthlessly shattered. Leftover was a retarded child who wore glasses to correct his squint.

The new teacher was very strict on us. He told us about the importance of reading. "Do you know what the ancestors of mankind were like?" Who knows, I thought. I haven't even met my great-grandfather, so how can I know what the ancestors of humans are like?

The teacher continued, "Human ancestors were much shorter than modern humans. They didn't have much strength, and they didn't run very fast. They didn't even have the ability of a weasel to fart and retreat." Hearing this, I muttered to myself, As if you saw it.

The teacher then said, "But why did humans not only survive the attacks of poisonous snakes and the threats of saber-toothed tigers, but also become the rulers of Earth?" Who knows why? If we knew, would we even need you to teach us how to go to school?

Then the teacher said, "That's because humans know how to pass on their experiences to their descendants, a skill that other animals do not have, and how do humans transmit their experiences?" We looked at each other. The teacher said, "It's a book!" The teacher began to get impassioned again. "Knowledge can change fate, and beauty can change life. You're not beautiful, but you still can't learn properly?" I just happened to have a broken glass lens in my desk. I secretly took it to look at myself. I'm not really beautiful, so I might as well study hard.

The children of the country are so used to the wild that if you want them to sit and study in peace, you look at them and see how they look and think they're going to be big; and if you look at them after school and see them shouting and shouting, coming from the north and the south, you will be shocked, even if the chickens and the dogs don't want to.

Sometimes, a few friends would meet up at the forestry team's melon garden to steal the sweet melons. It was an old man from Shandong who was watching the melon garden. Throughout the summer, we saw him bare-chested, barefoot, his upper body tanned and reddened by the sun, like the color of a roasted chicken. He liked to squat and eat, and we often saw him squatting at the door of the guacamole in the melon garden, eating the bran porridge with the leaves of the scallion and salt water. He ate very well, and made very loud noises, and occasionally made a long farting sound, like the bubbling of a bract of rice porridge, which made the birds in the trees stop chirping at once and look left and right for the source of the sound.

We lurked in the forest among the grass. It was hot and quiet, and the birds lay in the shade, panting with their mouths open. Meanwhile, the old man from Shandong Province was lying on the straw pallet in the shack, holding a sunflower fan in his left hand and his black belly in his right hand. After a while, seeing that old geezer Gua was getting pained, he reckoned that he had entered the wonderful state of his dreams.

We crawled into the melon garden. No matter if it was a ripe melon or a raw melon egg, he would pick it off and wrap it around his back. Suddenly, the old man gave a loud roar and chased after us barefooted. We turned around and ran, heading into the forest. We are lucky, crisis is always a safe time, have never been caught by the old man.

Apart from the melon poaching, there was also the interesting part of swimming in the river. Our little friend jumped into the water in a queue, stripped naked, and shot off into the distance. After a while, a series of wet heads emerged from the water. After swimming, he came out of the water and lay on his back on the beach, feeling extremely comfortable. Or he could stand on the beach in a row, naked, and shout as he ran: "Run, bounce, buck and eggs together." He would run and run, he would run, he would run, he would run, he would run, he would run, he would run, he would run, he would run, he would run, he would run, he would run, he would run, he would run. Another one shouted, "One pot of fire, two pots of fire! Come out and let the sun bask me in the sun!" Sometimes we fished in the creek, burned the needle on the kerosene lamp, and bent it with a pair of pliers to make a small hook. This kind of self-made hook is not good, the fish is easy to unhook, but, because of the large number of fish, we can still catch a lot of white buoy, mountain fat head, nail and other small fish. When we get home, we'll have fresh and delicious fish soup and delicious fish sauce.

On winter nights we went to catch sparrows under the eaves, the sparrows shivering in the wind, hiding in the holes under the eaves. One day we went to find sparrows under the eaves of Old Zhu's house. It was already late at night and the lights were still on in Old Zhu's house. The people in the house were still awake. We peeked through the window's only pane of glass and saw a kerosene lamp hanging from a thin wire hanging from the ceiling. In the center of the room was a white coffin (the coffin was still unpainted), and the production team's carpenter, Chen Dabao, was carrying a handful of shavings. Old Zhu's daughter-in-law, Shandong, had been hooked up with the big sack since a long time ago. Because Old Zhu was always lying on the brick bed, unable to work, he had to extend a helping hand to some heavy jobs in the house. The two of them had been in love for a long time. He could either endure it or be cruel, but he knew that his body was in no condition to be cruel. As a result, he could only tolerate it, but there was nothing wrong between the two of them. The reason why people are happy is not because they get too much, but because they care too little. Although Old Zhu didn't get any happiness, his family's life could still be settled, because the child was still young. If a family wanted to live, this would be the only way.

The big sack carpenter's skills were not considered good and was a large-eyed carpenter. The villagers called him a large-eyed carpenter because he had big eyes. He always ran to Old Zhu's house when he was out of work. His wife went to the well in the winter to fetch water, and the well was very slippery with a thick layer of ice. He accidentally slipped and died from the cold. Old Zhu had been very ill for the past few days. He usually had tuberculosis, and the severe winter had aggravated his illness. He lay on the cold kang with a bloody lump of phlegm at the corner of his mouth, and the white breath he breathed frosted on his thin mustache. A metal nail was nailed to the edge of the brick bed next to the pillow. A bottle of urine hung from the nail, and the dirty and yellow urine inside had already turned into ice. On the two benches in the middle of the room was a newly made coffin with white stubble. With his hands behind his back, Big Bag walked around the coffin twice, like an artist admiring his work. From time to time, he glanced at Old Zhu who was lying on the brick bed. The Shandong women went to Old Zhu's side and looked at him. Then they leaned over to listen at the tip of his nose. When they saw that he was still breathing, they whispered a few words into his ear. Thus, Big Bag walked up to Old Zhu and looked at his face. He then placed the nail on Old Zhu's head and quickly stuck the nail into the center of his head with his axe. Old Zhu's eyes rolled up as he stomped his feet twice, letting out a painful groan before he stopped moving. He bent down to observe the nail on the head of Old Zhu's head. Seeing that no blood was seeping out, a sinister smile appeared on his face. He gave the Shandong women a wink. Understandably, the Shandong women took out a long prepared shroud from the cabinet. It was a green cloth gown. Very soon, Old Zhu was lying in a long robe with a melon hat on his head. He looked very comical. "Then, the Shandong women started to wail and cry at their own men," "My poor man …"