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[Introduction] search all the way, search all the way, drill all the way forward. The branch hooked the hair, causing pain. Thorns pierced through clothes to the back, legs and even any part of the body, making people grinning like needles. Spring is coming and everything recovers. The small trees sprouted, and the grass was green. All kinds of flowers set off by the green trees decorated the hills in front of the door with colorful flowers and excitement. The hill is not high, but it is my childhood paradise. In spring, we went up the mountain to enjoy the delicate and charming wild azalea; After the summer rain, we followed our mother to pick the wild mushroom under the red bayberry tree which just opened the umbrella; In autumn, we climbed up the tree and ate the sour and sweet oranges and loquat, when my stomach was full, I still had to fill up a bag to go home; In winter, I carried a small bamboo basket, carried a bamboo plough, went up the mountain to collect pine needles and pick pine nuts, which were the most popular firewood at the head of the kitchen. When I grew up, I went to the city. The Hill in my hometown was still the place I dreamed. I miss every tree, every stone, and every path on that mountain. Every time I went home, I always took my daughter’s little hand to walk the winding mountain road and blow the Wild Wind in the mountain. Pick a dandelion on the roadside, blow a breath gently, and see the white umbrella swirling towards the distance under the escort of the mountain wind. April is the season for picking tea in my hometown, and also the peak season for growing ferns and wild bamboo shoots. During the tea season, my mother always takes time out of her busy schedule and goes into the dense wild bamboo forest on the mountain, searching for the small bamboo shoots that just came out, and the wild Bracken with hair rolled, so as to give us a toothpick sacrifice for those who seldom go home. Bamboo shoots, Bracken, shepherd’s purse and Malan head are our favorite and favorite country dishes since we were young. Finally, there is a chance that we will go up the mountain to pick up the bamboo shoots in person! Quickly dress up! Mother’s tattered clothes were our work clothes. She wore old sneakers and rushed to the hillside excitedly under the leadership of her father. After walking through terraces planted with fruit trees and flowers and trees layer by layer, we came to the shrub belt on the top of the mountain, where was the paradise of small bamboo shoots. In the forest, wild bamboos and bushes are mixed with each other, growing in a mixed way, like a dense low wall, which makes people unable to get down and have no gaps to drill. Under the call of the delicious bamboo shoots, we still make a determined effort, tighten our necks, bend down and squint (otherwise, the treetop will scratch your eyeballs accidentally), his hands pushed aside the branch of the passageway, and his feet on the raised tree pole, like a dog covered with dust, struggling to drill into it. It is not easy to find slender bamboo shoots in the withered branches and fallen leaves everywhere. Sometimes, their pointed little heads just exposed to the ground are only one or two inches long, so it is hard to find them without careful searching. The best way is to squat down and let your eyes shoot over the ground like a searchlight. When you find a small bamboo shoot, don’t pull it out and leave, because other brothers and sisters are often hidden beside it. Sometimes, you can even happily find that there is still a small bamboo shoot under the slightly tilted dead leaves. It is like a shy little bride, half lifting the Red Cap secretly, quietly looking at the world in front of us. The bamboo shoot is very short, but I can make it shorter and longer, dig the floating soil and rotten leaves on it, reveal a slightly White and thicker root, hold it tightly, shake it left, swing it right, gently lift up, Ah! Small bamboo shoots can become longer than inch in an instant. Search all the way, search all the way, drill all the way forward. The branch hooked the hair, causing pain. Thorns pierced through clothes to the back, legs and even any part of the body, making people grinning like needles. I don’t know when the red bars on the back of my hand and arms have been scratched. They are itchy with a little stabbing pain. However, all these difficulties cannot stop our enthusiasm for pursuing little bamboo shoots. Go home from the mountain, move a low stool and sit around the eaves of the corridor, peeling the shell of bamboo shoots. Take advantage of the freshness, stir-fry small bamboo shoots with pickles, or steam a bowl of minced meat bamboo shoots in a rice cooker. When the heat was rising, I picked up a chopstick and put it into my mouth. That fresh one and that fragrance are the most beautiful memories in my life. The hills in my hometown are evergreen all the year round, and flowers bloom frequently. The hills in my hometown have nurtured generations of hardworking and plain peasant children. They are just like the seeds of dandelion, floating around to take root, but their hearts are always toward their hometown. 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