想起夏天,嗅觉就特别的敏感,心头就情不自禁。那种夏天,好像乡村里独有,又好像属于乡村的从前。那种夏天。仿佛才算得上夏天。 夏天开始是在老屋里捂着。母亲亲手揉捏的酱块儿,一如魔方,堆在炕梢,或者秸秆帘子吊着,一股“发”味儿。全屋弥漫,闭眼嗅嗅,快要下坛了。就知道,已是夏天。 村子周围,一块,又一块慢慢绿着的地里,小孩子似的,昨天是那样,今天变换这般,随着日子演进,散发的味儿也有差异。土腥气儿、奶香味儿掺和各半,被风牵着,荡来荡去,淡淡的,飘飘的,准是间苗、下锄的日子;突然浓了、稠了,并且混入几丝清晰尿臊味儿,节气已到追肥、趟垄。这宗农事是个标志,一过,地里苞米、高粱等青苗,就扬胳膊、伸腿儿,噌噌拔节, Summer, smell is particularly sensitive, my heart can not help. That summer, as if the village is unique, it seems to belong to the countryside in the past. That summer. As if considered summer. The beginning of summer is clutching in the old house. Mother hand kneading sauce block children, as the Rubik’s Cube, heap in the khao, or straw curtain hanging, a “fat” flavor. The whole house filled with eyes closed, smell, almost under the altar. You know, it is summer. Around the village, a piece, another piece of slowly green ground, childlike, yesterday is the case, change so today, as the days evolved, distributed the taste is different. Soil fishy, ​​milk flavor mixed with the half, was led by the wind, swirling, faint, fluttering, should be thinning, the next hoe day; suddenly thick, thick, and mixed with a few clear Urine taste children, solar terms have been topdressing, trip ridge. This is a sign of agriculture, after a while, the ground corn, sorghum and other young crops, Young arm, stretch legs children, bassoon jointing,