Mushroom notes

Summer season, after the rain, the sun is very hot poison, roasted pavement. In the home very boring, simply carrying a small basket out of mushroom.

Out of the house, soon came to the village in the woods. This is a piece of pine, elm, poplar Zasheng woodland. The ground is wet, overgrown with wormwood grass. The bushes sporadically open be riotous with colour flowers of the unknown, but also eye-catching. Walk walk on grass, found here to hide a few graves. I am curious to stop in a vertical tombstone grave, solemn feeling arise spontaneously. Grave is covered with weeds, the stone is very short, very narrow, the text of the above have been indecipherable diffuse unclear, shadowy vaguely knew that [x] [the mother's in a certain period of a day] words. There are a bunch of new burned paper ash tablet. Obviously there are people who come to worship. Presumably this mound of the heroine in the still alive decades ago,

 is a meat has a spirit beast. Now have already become rotten bones in the graveyard, the soul has been wandering to disappear without a trace, only the heaps mound with a short and narrow stone accompany her reputation. As the years passed, even her name is not how many people remember. I can not help but with a sinking heart, not a bleak attack on the heart. Ah, alive no matter how wise, died again calculate what? In the long history of the years and this is how not worth mentioning! A lifetime to the whole family, old and young life make a hurried journey without stop to go busy, labor trouble, until be dead beat the old, and the old are frail, I do not know what the morning night suddenly collapsed, unable to get up again, as time goes by and soundless and stirless away. I can not help but ask; people came to this world in the end is to what? Don't just work, eat, sleep, reproduce, until the adult offspring rearing, starting a family, and his life has been relentless years eroded away, finally only to end up a mound and a small stone? Sadly few earth grave adjacent before even this small stone also have no, only a bare soil.

In the face of earth grave stone, I thought for a long time, do not know what taste. Then, a gust of wind blowing cold, it's too heavy. Then the rain xixilili gently. The rain kept flowing down along the stone. I shuddered, a sour heart, can't help to tears trickling down one's cheeks.





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