平芜尽处,挤四五百烟灶。翠绿的山峦从黑黑的屋瓦三面漫开去,波峰浪谷,渐远渐蓝,融入苍苍云天。这是我记忆中的故乡.故乡属半山区,虽说地方僻远点,却门对松涛,窗纳流岚,无城市闹声之喧,却有山水鱼米之利,不失为一方幽雅乐土。然而,记忆中的山乡,总萦回着一份隐隐的压抑.不说田间的原始劳作,雨打日 Ping Wu everywhere, squeeze four or five hundred stoves. Emerald hills from the dark roof on both sides of the house to go, peak wave valley, gradually getting blue, into the sky. This is my hometown of memory.HometownMiddle mountain area, although the place is remote, but the door to the Songtao, window satisfied that the flow of Lan, no noise in the city noise, but the benefits of landscape fish and rice, after all, an elegant side of paradise. However, the memory of the mountain, always lingering a faint depression.Do not say the field of primitive labor,