Along the front of the house was walking down the alley, not a few minutes, is a familiar and yet unfamiliar river. Stand-on-hands held on to the old tree, but no longer be able to step forward, only to stand a long time. At this time, quietly opened the door of memory, running out of things broken childhood.
summer, the river is almost spent with me. Lunch break, I will always take advantage of the time her mother fell asleep, secretly sneaking out of the house, about a number of small partners to stream of \"water.\" Stripped of clothes and jumped into the river , it really makes happy! When my mother finished napping and found that I was not at home, they will take on a long wooden, go directly to the river, with the result that I do not slip gray mother Qiushui been a \"rush\" to go home. However, the branch fell on my body has never been. Then I jokingly asked her mother why, her mother is only too happy to laugh with. I finally understand why I have dark skin: every day is to run out at noon, the sun was burning the roast, it will be strange if not black. But how can you and health on the line!
winter, a few from the same home stolen\" to match, in a small-on-a collection of the river has become a happy starting point, the mountains, \"fire.\" Along the way, are you saying \"Popeye,\" I make a few \"Transformers,\" he also inserted a few have been put on television last night, \"Judge\"; you have half the hands called \"Jin Gu Bang\" of the straight tree under, two strokes from time to time playing it; my hands have it renamed as the \"sword\" of the corn stalks剥了皮occasionally split it several \"sword\"; in his hand and holding a fine thread also import Cargo - \"Benz\", and sometimes needs to be hanging from the ridge to the banks. This said, a smile, singing, shouting, exclaimed, banner, the ranks of the river through the \"difficult path\" - in the shallow Department of throwing a few large boulders, along the winding mountain roads and on .
looking for a \"poised\" a pile of dry twigs, there are several bundles humilis. Para cleavage cracking sound, the red flames rising it up, cheering, and shouting voice, so that the valley is a lively. It was not earlier, and we are back to a small river, this time on the ice can not help but in the end of the river, the slip on you, and sometimes ice will crack, shoes stuck to, but not deep water, most did not the heel may be winter, it is hard to taste. Finally, each of us filled with trepidation, ready to go back and criticized ... ...
half against the shoulder-huai branches, a return to God, not just the excitement, and all eyes have changed, the river water did, leaving only a quiet tree forests, cool breeze and the wind blowing from the ear ... ...
patted the tree beside the old tree, and then through the river, toward the mountain climbing, I want to integrate themselves in the mountains to savor the left in the hearts of childhood. Mountain home, there is no lush forests, there are tall and straight steep peak, but the beauty of rustic, peasant like smile, simple and honest and simple years in the vicissitudes of life, there is no deliberate modification. To feel, and stopped, sitting in the banks, leaning against an apricot向山下of view, could see was the river around the village, as well as the subduction of the fruit trees, also faintly hear the dog barking moment. Almost dusk at this time, some farmers raised the roof of the smoke ... ...
night sky gradually, the more cold mountain breeze. The home. Way, the Shaanxi Opera accompanied by waves of desolation I ... ...
沿着家门前的小巷向下走，没几分钟，便是一条熟悉而又陌生的小河。站在河畔，手扶着老槐树，脚步却无法再向前，只能久久地伫立。此时，记忆之门悄然打开，流淌出童年的碎事。
夏天，几乎是小河伴我度过的。午休时，我总会趁妈妈睡着的时候，偷偷地溜出家门，约几个小伙伴到小河“打浇水”。脱光了衣服，跳入河中嬉闹，那真叫惬意！当妈妈午睡完毕，发现我不在家，就会拿上一根细长的木条，直接到小河去找，结果是我灰不溜湫地被妈妈“赶”回家。不过，那枝条从未落到我的身上。后来，我开玩笑地问妈妈为什么，妈妈只是幸福地一笑带过。我终于明白，为什么我的皮肤黑了：天天正中午跑出去，被火辣辣的太阳烤着，不黑才怪呢。不过黑又怎么啦，健康就行！
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冬天，几个小毛孩不约而同地从家里“偷”来火柴，在小河畔集合，小河又成为快乐的出发站，上山“放火”。一路上，你一句“大力水手”，我几句“变形金刚”，他也插几句昨晚电视上演过的“包青天”；你手中有半截称之为“金箍棒”的直直的枯树杆，时不时耍它两招；我手中也有那美其名曰“尚方宝剑”的剥了皮的玉米秆，偶尔也劈它几“剑”；他手中的细麻线还牵着一辆进口货——“奔驰”，有时还需从埂畔往上吊。这样说着，笑着，唱着，喊着，嚷着，打着，闹着，队伍渡过小河的“独木桥”——在水浅处扔的几块大石头，顺着山路蜿蜒而上。
找一块“风水宝地”，捡来一堆干树枝，还有几捆蒿草。劈呖啪啦的响声中，红红的火苗便升腾起来，欢呼声，呐喊声，让山谷又是一阵热闹。天色不早了，我们又回到小河畔，这时就忍不住在结了冰的河段上，滑上一下，有时冰会裂开，鞋子陷进去，不过水不深，最多也就没了脚跟，可在寒冬，那滋味可还是不好受。最后，我们每个人都战战兢兢，准备回去挨批……
半截槐树枝打在肩头，一回神，刚才的热闹没了，眼前的一切变了，河里的水干了，只剩下静静的槐树林，凉风从耳边拂过……
拍拍身边的那棵老槐树，然后走过小河，向着那山路攀登，我想把自己融入大山中，去体味那残留在心中的童年。家乡的山，没有郁郁葱葱的树林，也有险峻挺拔的高峰，却有质朴的美，犹如庄稼汉的笑容，憨厚朴实中刻满岁月的沧桑，没有刻意的修饰。走累了，停下脚步，坐在地畔，倚着一棵杏树向山下看，但见被小河环绕着的村庄，还有那隐没的果树林，也隐隐听见几声狗叫。这时已近黄昏，一些农家的房顶升起了炊烟……
天色渐晚，山风愈冷。该回家了。途中，一阵阵苍凉的秦腔伴着我……