Today's sky is gloomy, just like my mood at the moment. Sitting by the window, looking at the leaden clouds in the distance, my thoughts drifted back to my hometown thousands of miles away.
It's been a while since I left home, and the original freshness has long been replaced by endless thoughts. I still remember when I first set foot on this strange land, I was full of longing for the future and thought that I could adapt to the new environment quickly, but every night, loneliness flooded me like a flood.
The dribs and drabs of hometown, like twinkling stars, shine in the night sky of memory. In the early morning, the first ray of sunshine always wittily passes through mottled leaves and sprinkles on the stone road in the yard. In the yard, the old pagoda tree looks like a loyal guardian, witnessing the joy and sadness at home every year. In summer, the family often sits around the tree. Grandma gently shakes the cattail leaf fan to drive away mosquitoes, telling ancient and mysterious stories. My brother and I are so fascinated that we don't even know that the popsicles in our hands have melted.
There is also the market in my hometown, which is a place full of fireworks. Every market day, the narrow streets are very busy, and the shouts of vendors come and go, and all kinds of fresh vegetables, fruits and handicrafts are dazzling. I love to follow my mother through the crowd and taste the sugar and oil Baba that has just come out of the pot. It is soft, waxy and sweet, and the taste is still on the tip of my tongue. My mother always smiles and watches me gobble up, her eyes are full of spoil, and then she carefully chooses daily necessities for her family.
Now, in a different place, these ordinary and precious pictures have become the softest concern in my heart. Whenever I encounter difficulties, the first thing that comes to mind is the warm smile and encouraging words of my family. The pressure at work and the disappointment in life make me more and more eager to return to that sheltered harbor, even if I just sit quietly on the old sofa at home, listen to the familiar local accent and smell the delicious food floating in the kitchen.
In the evening, the sky began to drizzle, and the sound of raindrops knocking on the window was like the call of family. I opened the photo album of my mobile phone and looked at a photo of Zhangjiaxiang. Tears blurred my eyes. I don't know whether my parents at home are chanting about me at the moment, whether the old pagoda tree is blooming well this year, and whether there are any new changes in that familiar alley ...
I am homesick, I miss every corner of my family, and I miss every relative in my family. This kind of yearning, like a vine rooted in the bottom of my heart, grows more and more lush with the passage of time. I know that no matter how far I go, home will always be the place where I dream and the ultimate destination of my soul.
It's still raining, and my thoughts are spreading wantonly in this rainy night. Perhaps, it is time to plan a trip home, to embrace the home I have missed for a long time, to regain those warm memories, and to let the wandering heart find peace again.
