母亲用一张张荷叶,一棵棵绿蒿,捂盖一簸箕一簸箕刚刚绊好的豆瓣儿,闷酱。特有的蒿香,荷香,熟豆香,蒸腾着热气弥漫在室。白发的母亲,挥汗如豆。“都立秋了,怎么还热?”“秋后一伏,热死泥鳅。你大哥家的稻子该勾头快黄了吧。”窗外的知了突然回应似地叫上二声。站在母亲家三楼的阳台,我向远处极目,乡村,呈现出一幅辽阔无边的丰收画卷,翻滚的稻浪,寂静的 Mother with a sheet lotus leaf, a tree green wormwood, covered with a dustpan a dustpan just tripped a good bean, stuffy sauce. Artemisia fragrant, Dutch incense, cooked beans, steaming heat diffuse in the room. White-haired mother, sweating as beans. “” Autumn is a volt, heat dead loach. Your eldest brother of the hook of the hook fast yellow it. “” I heard a sudden response outside the window called the second sound . Standing on the balcony on the third floor of my mother’s home, I looked out to the distance and in the countryside, showing a vast expanse of harvest paintings, rolling rice waves, stillness