It was a frosty morning. The women got up early to clean the courtyard. Under the eaves there were neat piles of dry wood, and in the sinks soaked with red vicia, which had not been disposed of. The mountains in the distance were still unclear and covered with layers of white fog. The sunshine of the previous days had dissipated and there was no trace of it. Large areas of grass, high enough to cover the knee, far from a vast expanse of white, like the moonlight color. The wild crane is not yet out, hiding in the woods. I came to a sugarcane forest. At the bottom of the leaves was a grave. It looked very old. Behind the grave is an orange tree, tall, fruit-bearing, surrounded by wild chrysanthemum. Think of the poem "Ge Sheng ampelopsis, ampelopsis herb in the wild. To the death of beauty, who with? To be alone?" The gargoyles are too desolate, and the oranges and chrysanthemums are more lively. On the edge of the grave is a family yard, where children and grandchildren set up their homes and businesses, waiting for each other day by day. In the past, most people chose the nearest place to bury their loved ones in their hometown, and most people built their houses on the mountain. After the old people died, they were buried not far away from the house. During the Qingming Festival, the Middle Yuan Festival and the Spring Festival, they had to go to the grave and did not have to go far away. When the scene was dull, it seemed that there were few people on the road. In the evening, I occasionally met children walking home from school, mostly in groups, accompanied by one or two adults, laughing all the way.

The path is along the river, the sunset full of the afterglow sprinkled in the pine forest, along with the riverside bamboo also hazy a piece of gold, is about the poem wrote "only the mountains". On both sides of the hillside, the villagers are turning the soil, and the men are chatting across the ridge, their voices indistinct. In addition to the thought of polygonum baiping, my hometown has a strong incense in my memory. Although there are not as many people burning incense to worship God as before, there are still many village temples left from the old days. There is a Ciyun Temple near my hometown, is the building left by the Qing Dynasty, the door is thick blue stone steps, two placed the mighty stone lion, the lion next to what trees, it is not quite known. When I went there, it was the twelfth month. The leaves were bald and I could not recognize the names. Across the stone steps is a large stage, which is said to be left over from the Ming Dynasty. The roof is covered with grass and covered with green. When I went to the courtyard, there was only an old woman in incense. Standing in front of the hall, I could see the distant mountains behind the stage. The temple has four or five layers, and the deeper you go, the deeper you go. Except for the woman selling incense, you don't see any other tourists. In addition to the thought of polygonum baiping, my hometown has a strong incense in my memory. Although there are not as many people burning incense to worship God as before, there are still many village temples left from the old days. There is a Ciyun Temple near my hometown, is the building left by the Qing Dynasty, the door is thick blue stone steps, two placed the mighty stone lion, the lion next to what trees, it is not quite known. When I went there, it was the twelfth month. The leaves were bald and I could not recognize the names. Across the stone steps is a large stage, which is said to be left over from the Ming Dynasty. The roof is covered with grass and covered with green. When I went to the courtyard, there was only an old woman in incense. Standing in front of the hall, I could see the distant mountains behind the stage. The temple has four or five layers, and the deeper you go, the deeper you go. Except for the woman selling incense, you don't see any other tourists.