Prof. Shira Dentz
Summer in my childhood
Now, I sit in front of the desk, trying to make a valuable memory in my head. These recalls are
short-lived in my head. I try to catch them.
The summer of my childhood seems to be the most impressive for me. When I was young, there
was a garden in the back of my house. The flowers in the garden were on the rise luxuriantly.
The green peas were hidden among the leafy vines behind my house. They were twisted similar
to the crescent. The long as well as thin loofah, like a sickle, hands-on a vine rack.
In the vegetable garden, red tomatoes, green peppers, as well as purple eggplants are like various
shapes of lanterns and hang in the trees. In the field, a large watermelon like a chubby boy, and
melons are green and sturdy, like a naughty child, lying in the dense green melon leaves. White
melon like snow, gathering together, exposes their bodies. They seem to be like people on the
street, noisy and busy.
It is needless to say green vegetable bed, smooth bar, the tall trees and purple mulberry in front
of my house. Without mentioning that in the leaves, cicada, the chubby hornet on vegetable
blooms and the nimble skylarks called the son of heaven lurking in lawn and zooming skyward
suddenly. Just the surrounding area at the foot of the mud wall presents unlimited fun. Bell-ring
crickets tend to sing in low key plus grass-crickets play pianos here. Had you turned over broken
pieces of brick lying around, you could sometimes find centipedes as well as blister-beetles
below. When you press a blister-beetle on the back, its hindmost opening would stream of mist
with a pop loose. Magnolia Fordiana, as well as Vines of Fo-Ti, are entangled together.
Magnolia Fordiana has fruits comparable to those found in water-lotus seed-pods. Fo-Ti has its
roots swelled. A given group of individuals claims that certain Fo-ti roots are human in form and
can go beyond an individual to a god. Therefore, I typically pull pants from Fo-Ti as well as
break the mud-wall. Nevertheless, I have never seen any in human form. In case you don’t fear
thorns, you could pick raspberries that are like pearls that cluster together. They’re sour, sweet
and far better in color as well as taste than the mulberries.
In the draft pond in front of the gate of my house, the leaves of lotus were very high, swaying
with the wind. In such a moment, I could always see my sister singing a song next door, looking
down at the lotus and getting the lotus seeds. That is picking up a lotus in my hometown.
Throughout the whole summer, the cicada was a rural singer. They sparsely hanged in the
woods. Stopping gradually after the fall. Catching cicada was an essential fascinating thing in my
childhood. During my childhood, the adults would stay at home for lunch, while my friends and I
took slender bamboo poles, tied gauze bags with ponytails at the top and ran to the small hill
near my house. Follow the sounds of cicada, we could find cicadas on the trees. Then we quietly
stretch the bamboo pole to the trunk and cover cicadas gently. After that, we pull it in a sudden
and quickly close the rod. We would just get a lively cicadas. After we capture cicadas, put them
in homemade cages and hung on the tree in front of our houses.
When night fell, a strange stillness pervaded the garden. After one day, parents moved the
bamboo bed to the middle of the courtyard, shaking the fan to cool. My sister and I sat on the
bamboo bed and listened to my father telling stories. At that time, the big yellow dog, which we
had fed for more than ten years, slept under the cold bed, stretched out his head. It seems that he
also listened to my father telling stories.
In front of the house, there is a pond that consists of a small clinker walk path at the equal sides
of the pond. The place is attractive as well as quiet, with a minimal number of people passing by
during the day. During the night, it appears to be private since no one is passing by, while the
forest embraces the pond. Some willows, as well as unknown trees, exist on the other side of the
pond and the path appearances are very nice at night, with moonlight, although with extreme
darkness I am always afraid.
As the night turns dark, a little bit of fluorescent light floated in the yard, roaming in the grass
and flickering through the vine frame. I could not wait but hurriedly took the fan and chased the
fireflies in the yard. I remember one day catching them late at night and my father scolded me
for catching fireflies and I went back to sleep. I secretly hid a glass of fireflies in my clothes.
Lying in sealed mosquito net, I open the glass bottles filled with fireflies and watched them
slowly flying out of the bottle mouth. They faintly light up in my small net, as if the stars were
shining in the sky, which seems very beautiful.
Time goes like a high-speed train. It seems that these things happened yesterday. Now, I live
abroad. I could no longer hear the sounds made by cicadas. I could no longer see the light
generated by fireflies. I could still learn through the lives in the countryside when I come back to
my hometown. However, I could no longer go through the experience of childhood but keep
these valuable memories in my deep mind.