The reeds in my hometown

Fan Fajia

What has haunted me for many years and will never be forgotten is the reeds in my hometown. Yes, those seemingly inconspicuous and unpretentious reeds. Pieces, clusters, lush green, facing the breeze, swaying slender sapphire-like branches, looking from a distance like light green clouds, fluttering on the horizon, adding a bit of tranquility to the countryside And elegant. Almost all rivers, lakes, and ponds are covered with green reeds. Every year, when the spring breeze has just blown away the snowflakes, the reeds in my hometown can’t wait to poke out their pointed indigo heads from the soil that has not yet faded away from the cold. It grows very quickly. In just a few days, it will grow to several feet tall, happily spreading out its long, flat leaves. At this time, my friends and I like to pick a reed leaf, skillfully roll it into a small whistle, put it to our mouths, and blow out various pleasant sounds. The children were intoxicated by this wonderful music. They ran happily by the sparkling river and on the green grass, calling out with emotion... We also like to fold green reed leaves out of reed leaves. Those who are skillful will also cut small pieces from old match boxes to use as rudders and install them on the stern of the boat. They will also use tin foil from cigarette boxes to make small silver sails. One by one, with our bare feet, we crouched on the river beach and carefully moved the boat to the water. "Let's sail! Let's sail!" Amidst the cheers, the green "fleet" was filled with our innocent fantasies and went down the river... On that summer night when the stars and the moon shine together, I like to take the boat with me the most. He took his younger brother to catch the weaver among the reeds. The Weaver Girl is completely transparent, with two slender tentacles on her head, and her body is wrapped in two thin cellophane-like wings. We carefully put the captured weavers into small bamboo cages, and stuffed them with a few golden-red pumpkin flowers to prevent them from being hungry. Then we hung the cage on the mosquito net frame and let the weaver girl accompany us into a sweet dreamland with her beautiful singing voice...