这几天,柿子上市了。看着火红的柿子,我不由得想起村里的那片荒园,那片荒园曾被我童年的脚步踏得凌乱。记得,那荒园也曾辉煌过,也曾让我和伙伴们的口水拉到脚脖。想起荒园,我不觉想起那个守园的老人。她曾是荒园的主人,小时候我和伙伴们都很怕她,因为我们常偷吃她家的柿子,也常 These days, the persimmon went public. Looking at the flaming persimmons, I could not help but think of the wild garden in the village. The wild garden was disorganized by my childhood. I remember that the wilderness garden had also been brilliant, and it had caused me and my friends’ saliva to pull it into the hem. When I think of the wasteland, I don’t think of the old man who was in the garden. She used to be the master of the wild garden. When I was a child, my friends and I were very afraid of her because we often ate the persimmons in her family.