每次听到扁担的咯吱声,我总会想起爷爷那黑黝黝的脸庞;而每到吃西瓜的时候,眼前总会浮现出爷爷为了种西瓜,风里来雨里去的情景。清晨,淡黄色的阳光星星点点洒向大地,我还睡意蒙眼龙时,爷爷便穿着那件单薄的绿衬衫,脚踏一双解放鞋,准备出门了。爷爷走到门口,拿起扁担,熟练地用扁担挑起两个装满了肥料的铁桶。 Every time I hear the squat creak, I always think of my grandfather’s swarthy face; and when I eat watermelon, my eyes always emerge out to see the grandpa in order to grow watermelon, wind and rain to the scene. In the early morning, the light yellow sunshine scattered on the earth a little bit, I still sleepy when the eyed dragon, my grandfather wore that thin green shirt, a pair of liberation shoes, ready to go out. Grandpa walked to the door, picked up a pole, skillfully pick up two iron drums filled with fertilizer.