去年冬天,我把一盆开过花的菊,随手丢弃在屋旁,连同装它的瓦盆。屋旁有巴掌大的空地,没人理它,它便自作主张地在里面长婆婆纳,长狗尾巴草,长车前子,长蒲公英,还长荠菜。我挑过一回荠菜,挺像那回事的,把一份野趣挑进篮子里。后来,这一小撮荠菜,被我切碎了,烙进糯米饼里。饼烙得点点金黄,配了糯米的糯白,配了荠菜的嫩绿,不用吃,光看看,就很享受了。咬一口,鲜透牙。很是感动了一回,有泥土的地方,总会生长着我的故乡。 Last winter, I dropped a flower of chrysanthemum and dropped it beside the house, along with the pots that loaded it. The house next to the palm of a large open space, no one reason it, it will make their own claims to the long mother-in-law, long tail grass, long plantago, long dandelion, but also long shepherd’s purse. I picked one time shepherd’s purse, quite the same thing, put a rustic charm into the basket. Later, this handful of shepherd’s purse, I was chopped, branded into rice cakes. Pie branded little golden, with glutinous rice waxy white, with shepherd’s purse verdant, do not eat, light to see, very enjoyed. Bite, fresh tooth. It is touched once, where the soil, always grow my hometown.