铁锹、石子、沥青、尘土、桔红色和那走不到尽头的山路,平凡得不能再平凡,普通得不能再普通。然而,它却使我这个心比天高的“意气书生”依恋痴迷,十几年如一日,铲平我眼底的坎坷,铺筑我脚下的坑穴,用一颗火热的心,用一双长满老茧的手编织我心中的坦途。十二年前,作为一名中学生,我怀着几分新奇,带着几分激情,踏着父辈的足迹,来到偏僻的大山里,走进这座幽雅清净的淡黄色小院。老班长很庄重地把一件桔红色的上衣,一顶桔红色的帽子和一把锃亮的铁锹交到我的手中。从此,在这荒无人 Shovels, stones, asphalt, dust, orange, and the mountain that can not be reached at the end, can not be ordinary, ordinary too ordinary. However, it has made me heart taller than this. I am obsessed with obsession with love. After more than a dozen years, I have been able to smooth out the frustrations of my eyes, to build potholes under my feet, to use a hot heart A pair of hands full of calluses braided my heart. Twelve years ago, as a middle school student, I took a bit of novelty, with a bit of enthusiasm, marching into the footsteps of my fathers, and came to the remote mountain and walked into this elegant and clean little yellow courtyard. The old monitor solemnly put an orange shirt, a red hat and a shiny shovel into my hand. Since then, in this deserted