Embrace you my baby

Drives on the way home, neat rows of poplars can occasionally see a few grow big locust tree, and now they are in bloom, like a cloud of white. I deliberately open windows, bursts of fragrance with the wind got in, they flew into my nose, wash every body, for a moment, I feel every pore on the oozes sophora flower fragrance, the feeling is very subtle.
My hometown tree shadow everywhere, they look at the side of the road, slope, gully sill, not picky, reconcile oneself to one's situation, even the weeds are disgusted with the stones, they can grow quite momentum.
When I was young, every Sophorae season, each and every family is to eat the pick of locust, pick of locust in this live, usually is the mistress of the house to do, they come home long bamboo pole, in the top tied sickles, threaten their neighbors together better pick of locust.
We usually go to the woods pond edge picking, where tree, tall and not too high, pick up more easily, they tied with a sickle of bamboo in the tree Ceng few now, the tree is a snow-white, we looked at, swarmed around the past rob, "do not fight, some", we can not listen, grab the hand of Flos Sophorae, also can not attend to gill bar person, be in his arms, screaming and into his mouth, in fact, Sophora japonica raw beany flavor is not delicious, astringent, the village children to eat less picky they, the mouth, the sweet with the fragrance of flowers to eat a belly.
Abstract home pagoda, night table is much the way Sophora japonica fried egg, salty porridge can also add pagoda, doing porridge out of a fragrance, let a person appetite. This time of year I can eat a few meals and Flos Sophorae on meals, gradually become a habit, every year when Sophorae, whether I'm in university or work, I have to find the chance to go home, to smell the familiar aroma, eat meal with the fragrance of flowers. Rice.
This year, on the way home, arms more than a babbling baby.
So far, the peak aunty greets me in the pool, she had never seen my daughter, we were talking about home, live TERT bent a stone sitting on our side of the upper, heavy breathing sound from his body, in my memory, to have a good body, he when young and wife built three henhouse outside the village at that time to be robust and strong, he seems to have inexhaustible energy, my amazement to write on the face, Fu TERT at a glance to see through, "it doesn't matter, good fast, you see these Sophorae is good, let your mother to pick some Sophorae, fried chicken eggs to the child to eat". Laifu TERT fingers that piece of Huai River side woods, yeah, shining white open it, just like when I was young, Fu TERT grandson also has more than one year old, certainly want to eat this year new pagoda.
I hold her daughter, pointing to the roadside trees, in early summer, when the country is most beautiful, Chinese parasol tree with purple flowers, the poplar leaves light glittering in the Golden Sunshine Garden tomatoes, beans, climbing frame, whose February blue, purple and white white flowers around the Garden opened a garden, a corner of the rose has for years, I remember I was in junior high school, every day pass by here, her branches are always blooming rose smiling face, now her flowers flourishing hot grew into a tree, huge shadow covered, branches. Full of her generation after generation of descendants, all these years, she and around the tree, see a crop of old people, a crop of new life is born, is not far from the fields, in a crop of the time, sowing, growth, harvest, death, change is at the foot of the land, still such as a solid, these people, crops, trees, vegetables, dog and cat, old growth in this piece of land, but also a reincarnation of the newborn, life in the never ending in beautiful.