Autumn is coming. How long have you been away from your hometown?

in any case, autumn is coming. The leaves began to turn yellow and the maple leaves began to turn red. Overnight, they were blown up by the wind and danced all over the sky. They are like red balloons in the sky when I was five years old, flying over tall buildings, over cities, over rivers, over mountains and rivers, and then fell on the earth, turned into soil, and returned to their eternal hometown.

Wen /Wang Lu

call home in the evening. My mother went shopping and my father answered. He asked me how many days off for National Day and whether he would come back. I said you can go back. After thinking about it, I only went home once on National Day in these ten years. That was when I graduated from university in 2008. I was not admitted to graduate school. I quit my job on National Day and went home to live for a few days. Later, when I passed the examination, I never went home on National Day. In Guangzhou, I went to Pazhou with my classmates to see fireworks, went for a night outing on the Pearl River, or killed the three Kingdoms in my dormitory; in Beijing, I went boating with my colleagues in Beihai and went to Xiangshan to see red leaves. In short, I never went home again.

first, I find it troublesome to go home. I have only seven days off, and I have to go about it for two days on the way. The second is to think, what is the fun of going home?

Yes. There's nothing fun at home. It takes less than an hour for the county to stroll down from east to west and from south to north. Nothing more than dusty streets, loudspeakers playing dirt-to-dregs songs. But when I was young, I thought the county was very big. At that time, my family lived in the family yard of the department store in Beiguan. My father and my grandfather are both veteran workers in department stores. The family courtyard is too far from the county seat, so we all call it Beida Fang.

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I went to primary school at the age of five. It is said in the textbook that Beidahuang is the land of fish and rice. The pheasant flies into the rice pot. There is no distinction between h and f in Henan dialect, so I wondered to myself, "is the northern wilderness the same place in our family?"

at that time, every Sunday, I asked my father to take me to the street to play. My father was riding a big Phoenix bike, and I set off on the front bar. Every time I went to the street, I could see the world, and in those years, I often saw a big world. I can't do it today. I can't see much of the world in Beijing. The place on the first floor is far away from my life.

at that time, my father bought me a red balloon in the street and tied it with a wool rope. I held it in my hand and happily walked home through the downtown crowd. Just as the victorious warrior seized many weapons, the hunting general brought back a lot of prey. It's just a small balloon. I am full of joy, the size of a red balloon, but in the inadvertent loosening of the little finger, the balloon flew.

the balloon flew up the big tree by the side of the road and hung on the branches. My father stopped the bike, put me on the side of the road, leaned against the tree, stepped on the seat, and climbed up. There are a lot of people in the street. My father is still wearing red socks. He went up to the high place of the tree and grabbed the balloon. At that time, my father was not yet 30 years old, and he dared to climb a big tree to reach a red balloon in the busy street in full view of the public. He doesn't dare to do that again today. He is a respectable businessman in a small county anyway. Besides, he may not be able to climb such a tall tree.

my father handed the balloon back to me, but it was a pity that I let it go again in front of my house. I crossed the ditch to chase the balloon, which was exactly one centimeter higher than after I stood on tiptoe and stretched out my arm. I jumped again, but the moment I jumped, the naughty balloon flew another centimeter higher, and I finally couldn't reach it. The red balloon flew over the eaves and the chimney, flying higher and higher, never coming down again.

that evening, sitting on the stool in front of the door to do my homework, I saw a red thing on the distant horizon, a small one. I think that's my balloon. I ran out, all the way to the end of the family yard, where a wall stopped me, and my balloon was still so far away from me. I stood by the wall dejectedly for a long time until it was dark.

A few years later, when the wall was finally torn down, the department store collapsed. My dad was laid off, too. At that time, it was a craze to go south to start a business. My father wants to go to Shenzhen and Hainan very much. Finally, my father stayed because my mother cried and said that I was too young. But I didn't know that at the time. I was too young. Now, I can understand my father's thoughts and decisions. At that time, my father was my age today, and the county was too small to have the ambition of a man in his prime. Perhaps only the growing joy of young life can dilute the passion of ambition and bind and retain an ambition.

my father finally, as he said, "capable people can make money on their doorstep." When he was in his early thirties, the three of us were finally able to stop renting a house. This small victory breeds a man's pride and arrogance that he cannot realize that it is an illusion. All the illusion is that this is not a victory for a small potato, but a victory for a big era, and he just happens to be standing at that point.

it takes time to understand this, and twenty years passed when sluggish business over the years gradually confirmed it. How many twenty years can there be in a person's life? But there may only be one or two times when a person decides the major direction of fate in his lifetime. By the time my father finally realized that he was small, he was no longer young.

Today, although I understand this truth in my mouth, I can't help repeating his mistakes step by step. There is no way, it is young to force themselves to always think that they are very strong. I am in a high-spirited age, in my father's year. I often feel that I am at the forefront of the times, that my great future is about to unfold, and that my work is extremely important.

I will take out my mobile phone anytime and anywhere to take a look at our products, miss every important piece of news, and feel that all the major events in the world have a lot to do with me. I weigh every article I send out, and constantly pay attention to its reading volume and retransmission rate. When I go out to have dinner with my friends, I will always talk about what manuscripts I read today. Son. No matter what I see, I always think of my manuscript. It seems that Russell once said that a person's nervous breakdown is a sign that he or she feels that his or her work is extremely important. That's what I am now.

in this state, day by day, I seldom think of what my parents are doing at this moment. I used to set the weather forecast address of my mailbox to my home and want to pay attention to the weather in my hometown from time to time, just as my mother pays attention to the weather on my side. But when I thought about it, I found that I hadn't noticed the warmth of the house for a long time. It's like in a flash, I haven't been home on National Day for six years.

I live outside alone. I don't bother to cook. I will look all over Beijing for all kinds of delicious food. Every time I taste something I've never seen before, I always think, if only my parents were here. Just like when I was a child, my parents had a rare opportunity to take me out to a restaurant, order a dish and give it to me first, smiling and asking me if I hadn't eaten it. Either Yu-Shiang Shredded Pork or Fried Lamb with Cumin roll the steamed bun. It was so delicious that I said I hadn't eaten it. Mom asked me if it was good, and I said it was good.

Mom picked up a thin pancake with her delicate hands, picked up mutton and green onions, spread it with a uniform layer of sauce, and wrapped it round like a little chubby to welcome the New year, but the sauce didn't spill at all and handed it to me to eat. I'll never learn my mother's skill to wrap a pancake so neatly and round. The endless mysteries of life are hidden in such places. Just like when I was five years old, she always sharpened the pencil so long and sharp that it didn't break easily. I've never seen craftsmanship like that anywhere else. No matter how big the world I will see in the future, all of them will not add up to the size of the world I saw from my parents when I was five years old.

sometimes, I want them to be in Beijing, too, so I can take them to eat all kinds of dishes, Huaiyang food, Yunnan food, Guizhou food, Cantonese food, as well as all kinds of western food and desserts. Don't worry, I won't ask them softly that they haven't eaten as I did when I was a child. Because they haven't eaten it. At that time, I was only five years old, and now they are all over fifty.

this spring, my mother wants to go to Wuhan for a checkup. Because one of my uncles is a doctor in a big hospital in Wuhan. He has retired and is a cadre. When I was five years old, he was a big official in legend. Now it seems that it is just one of the thousands of people who had the talent and opportunity to get out of their hometown when they were young. He worked in the hospital until he retired, and the unit was assigned a big house. My mother wanted to have a checkup, so she called my uncle's daughter. She said that her uncle Ching Ming Festival had gone back to his hometown. I went back without telling any relatives, and I didn't bring my cell phone with me.

she said he would stay back and forth between his employer and the West, staying here for two days and there for three days. Stay for a while and then go back to Wuhan. I think it's amazing. When a person has lived in a big city for so long, when he is old and retired, he still wants to go back to his hometown, lives in the country, sleep in a wooden bed, eat two noodles rolled out by a rolling pin, sniff the smell of dirt, cow dung, and crops, and listen to the sparrows twittering early in the morning under the eaves.

not long ago, I wrote an article entitled "Why people who leave their hometown don't want to go back". After writing it, I thought it was because they were young. Because I was young, I didn't have time to stop, so I kept running and didn't have time to turn around. When it comes to old age, when you finally find that you are small enough to find that everything you have gained in your life comes from the gifts and flukes given by your parents, you will rediscover the kindness of your hometown.

after all, in any case, if a person has lived on a piece of land for more than ten years, wherever he goes in his life, that memory will not be erased. Orthodox Buddhism holds that people do not have a soul. If something has to be called a soul, that thing is practice. Just like you love someone for more than ten years, no matter how much you don't love her later, the imprint left in your life for more than ten years can never be changed.

autumn is coming. Primary school textbooks once said that geese will fly south, one word at a time, and then a herringbone. But I've never seen a wild goose in years. Maybe I saw it when I was a kid, but then I forgot. But I don't doubt the truth of this sentence. In this city, all you can see are tall buildings, a steady stream of traffic, and a sea of lights below when the plane falls into the night sky. It makes you feel yearning and despair at the same time. It tells you what is meant by high mountains and sea, what is called bridge and scenery. However, this is not the world I want to see, the world I have heard of but never seen in the end, that is, autumn is coming, and the geese are flying south, lined up in a word and a herringbone.

anyway, autumn is coming. The leaves began to turn yellow and the maple leaves began to turn red. Overnight, they were blown up by the wind and danced all over the sky. They are like red balloons in the sky when I was five years old, flying over tall buildings, over cities, over rivers, over mountains and rivers, and then fell on the earth, turned into soil, and returned to their eternal hometown.