Cultivators
Only the memory of all the rain today! factory ugg Hear the wind and rain, I would like is that once the walker in the misty rain in the south, happy dance in the wind, the joyful singing in the rain. In the North and a lifetime to cherish. Continuously life cycle of seasons, but also the spring quarter, the figure began to spread things, bits and pieces of the flowers are blooming, the point of that story yesterday, today, insects and birds dyed, months down the color Ping Masked Rider, pouring the still calm of yesterday, Huang described the night quietly in the ancestors of land was a myth, not only the story of countless whispers into the ears today, despite their scattered into the deep, thick mud millennium. Let the sons of generations of hard work during. An ox plow, Kazuo a woman. Back and forth between the land sown with the livelihood of the coming year, the son of the son of the son of an old ox is still in its grandfather's grandfather's grandfather plowed land in the main people marched in hard pace. Ancestral plow silent, his head still buried deep into the earth. Farmer's whip still has the voice is thrown, pah, pah, pah, the same line of rhythm yelling before the cattle, plow into the hands clenched, as if it is in life, roll up their trouser legs in pregnancy is also hidden the earth, perhaps where the soil is turned ancestors, shoes scattered on the far edge of a farm, barefoot in the land has been taking a timeless pattern, a deep one shallow. Roll spark lit cigarette in the mouth. Crimping plow and the woman in cattle between the extended forward. The woman who inherited the arms of the wooden bucket, still in the gray-brown, containing the seeds and to the same, but that sets the string around the neck into the green, fighting was also called in more nitrogen and phosphorus and potassium fertilizers, square face of a woman under the hybrid had the same color with the land, followed silently spread the species. Look forward with eager eyes filled. ߺ ... the return of farmers plowing the country roads,ugg boots clearance some of whom carried on the shoulders of the plow, and some draped See all back, still holding legs, the pace is leisurely than that of many, thumb out on the probe from the upper! Cattle are in front, a self first find their own groove, tossed near the tail drinking well water from the tank. Looking back raised his head to drink for a master's presence. And then began to drink water. Women start cooking a hurry to pack a bit. Men is dry and out of this and that, finally turning against the wall outside the hands of the cigarette. Deeply the seeds of the earth began to think about the availability of this year's harvest. Generation work, the pace of tillers of the soil can not be separated ancestral land, the land is their soul, their life tarried. Cultivators eyes keep looking at one-third of an acre of land. Red hot heart sinking, always quiet and deep insight into the Land. The land tillers of the soil willing to look the green light, let me see the smile on their faces. I have drunk in the joy of their harvest.