A lunar New Year, no doubt, is sound, taste and township.
A New Year's eve firecrackers. Melody in the New Year, fireworks is low and grand drums, heavy yet explosive, accompanied by a large umbrella of scattering flowers, jinlong fall and arc of the rainbow, here every corner of the flower, a pair of, a group of cheng fang, a piece, a world, in a sudden the incomparable luster. And on the square table, and celebrate the applause, light spirit is ringing, can not help but think of "harps friend" -- it is natural to performance, the smile of gentle feeling let everyone around without his joy. Then a sound clear gong, it is in the middle of the night the cheer of the New Year, is not so short but lingering sound waves, times, stretches, like a stream, seeped into next year. In the end, a string of bells sound, it so mysterious, as if the passage of time, is at the end of the sea and the nien beast roar.
Through every form, and to have bouts of aroma. Like bacon that hard sweet, like the mutton soup hot sweet, like the natural aroma of coarse grains like steamed bread fresh incense, sweet like a sausage chewy, like dumplings a pack of sweet juice, like nuts, crisp sweet, like good old 994 stuffed sweet ChunChun... The fragrance, as they themselves. A wisp of fragrance, flavor, a dish, a table, a handful of happiness. I like dumplings, white white fat, quietly lying on the soup. It successfully, that sweet thick sesame paste, now a love heart.
JianJu the most popular cartoon "bears in the New Year's day" in a situation: even if a lumberjack, also know that mother's dumplings, dad's wine, are looking forward to the calendar page, end the arrival of the New Year's eve. Whether it's cold rime, shaking winter bamboo shoot, a speeding train, shimmering bright lights... Township, there is only one, let the wanderer to gallop tirelessly.
But you have such a scene: in the mobile phone clicking, hands of quick-frozen dumplings immodesty slide to the ground, fell to pieces, like a boom ray reminds you, want to travel to Hong Kong this year Spring Festival. So, the sound? Taste? Township?
一个春节，无疑便在于声、味、乡。
爆竹声中一岁除。过年的曲谱中，烟花是低沉而隆重的大鼓，重重的一声声爆响，伴随着大伞的散花、金龙的出落和弧形的彩虹，在这儿的每个角落一朵、一双、一群、一片、一世界地盛放，在瞬间迸发出无与伦比的光彩。八仙桌上的谈笑，与庆祝的掌声，轻灵清脆，不禁联想到“琴瑟友之”——它自然是尽情的琴声了，笑的柔和让周围的每个人都情不自己地欢欣起来。然后是一声清亮的锣响，它就是午夜时分新年的那一阵欢呼，虽短，但余音袅袅，不绝如缕，一直绵延着，就如一条溪，汩汩地流向明年。最终，有一串编钟声，它那么神秘，好像是时间的流逝，是沧海尽头年兽的咆哮。
走过每一个门洞，都有一阵阵的香飘来。像是腊肉那硬硬的香，像是羊肉汤那热乎乎的香，像是粗粮天然的香，像是馒头新鲜出炉的香，像是香肠有嚼劲的香，像是饺子一包汁的香，像是坚果干脆的香，像是陈年佳994酿醇醇的香……这香味，就如它们本身。一缕香，一丝味，一盘菜，一桌人，一捧幸福。我最喜欢汤圆，白白胖胖，安静地躺在汤里。它圆满的外表下，那甜稠的芝麻馅，宛然一颗爱心。
简举最红的动画片《熊出没之过年》中的一情景：就算一个伐木工，也懂得，妈妈的饺子，爸爸的酒，都是期待着日历的那一页，岁末除夕的到来。不管是冰冷的雾淞，晃动的冬笋，飞驰的火车，灿亮的灯光……乡，只有一个，让游子不倦地飞奔。
但是你的身边有这样的场面吗：在手机的点击声中，手里的速冻汤圆不慎滑落在地，跌得粉碎，像轰雷般提醒了你，今年春节要去香港旅游。如是这样，声呢?味呢?乡呢?