Author: He Yi
A leaf fell leisurely, falling on a bench in the street, the bench was empty, and there was just an old man, the old man with white hair, a brown scarf around his neck, wearing a dark gray tweed coat, and a pair of black leather shoes on his feet, from the point of view of dress, the old man should be well-off, should belong to the middle class, is a scholar, or a doctor, or a lawyer. The old man's expression was extremely lonely, he seemed to be pondering, what was he thinking? Is he thinking about something profound? Or is he reminiscing about his life? Or is he immersed in the thoughts of his family? The old man got up and left, the autumn wind blew up the white hair on his forehead, the dim street light reflected on the wrinkles of his face, his eyes were dull, his back was extremely lonely, he walked slowly, he did not seem to be in a hurry to go home, there seemed to be no one in the house waiting for him to go back, he should be alone. This dusk has a certain meaning because of the old man, and so does the street bench and the fallen leaves on the bench. With light rain in the air, benches wet, fallen leaves wet, and even street lights wet, it was destined to be an extraordinary night, and the fallen leaves were given a deeper meaning. A black sedan drove by the bench, and the wheel rolled up a few wet fallen leaves and fell back to the ground, and the leaves had been crushed. There are constantly people passing by the benches, there are people riding electric vehicles, there are people driving tricycles, there are students carrying school bags, there are constantly falling leaves that are rolled up and fallen by wheels or soles, and the fallen leaves have been crushed and trampled, and its fate is coming to an end. I can't help but think of the way it looked when it hung on the branches, when it was bathed in the afternoon sun, and although it had withered yellow, its body was still intact, its life was still free, and now, when it fell on the ground, it could only be trampled on. The fate of the fallen leaves on the bench is different, it is still on the bench, no one disturbs it, it can dream quietly, it can observe the world, at least it will not be trampled, at least this night it is free.
Autumn is really a world of fallen leaves, green and yellow leaves, golden leaves, red leaves, all over the sky, falling in the bushes, falling in the mountains, falling on the edge of ditches, falling on the street, falling in the yard. Tang Geng's "Records of Literature" has "Mountain monks do not understand the number of nails, and a leaf falls to know the autumn of the world." In the Huainan zi shuo shan xun, there is "seeing the big with the small, seeing a leaf falling and knowing the twilight of the year." "From the withering of a leaf, you can know the arrival of autumn, and the year is coming to an end. Seeing the fallen leaves, people can't help but think of people's old age, the life of the fallen leaves is also equivalent to the life of people, and the cycle begins, the leaves repeat its fate, but the life of people is only once. I think of the monastery in the mountains, the mountain monks sweep the fallen leaves in the monastery every year, while practicing, they are also thinking about the meaning of life, the fallen leaves are not only full of poetry, but also remind people: time is fleeting, life is short, when doubly cherished! I thought again of a monk who was very deeply practicing, sitting alone in a Zen room late at night, with sandalwood burning in the room, tired of reading scriptures, listening to the sound of falling leaves outside the window, and drinking a cup of tea alone. Every year, accompanied by fallen leaves outside the window, he must be satisfied. It is hard to imagine that without the fallen leaves, the autumn in the mountains would not be extremely lonely and boring! If there are no fallen leaves, the autumn of this world will be extremely lonely! Extremely boring!
The fate of the fallen leaves of the city is not as good as the fate of the fallen leaves in the mountains, and the fallen leaves of the city fall to the ground and will soon be swept away, mixed with other garbage, and transported to the garbage transfer station. The fallen leaves in the mountains are not swept away, and year after year, the fallen leaves accumulate in the mountains and eventually turn into manure that nourishes the trees and flowers. Fallen leaves can also be regarded as having a home! The fallen leaves in the woods will not be swept away, they fall freely year after year, enjoying the joy that life brings them!
I love walking on the fallen leaves in the woods, and I love listening to the "creaking" sound. The fallen leaves in the woods are always thick, the fine sunlight of autumn sprinkles through the gaps in the leaves, illuminating the warmth of the people, and the fallen leaves fall one by one, falling on me, falling on the ground, so many fallen leaves, it is so good! They can return to the embrace of the tree!
I miss the old man on the bench on the street, and I want to know his end, where is his life? He thought about it all his life, and finally, did he find the answer he was looking for? In fact, many things are "no disease", just like the feelings of two people, do not have to deliberately look for answers, go with the flow is best! The attitude of falling leaves is like this, very casual, very natural. "Don't be shocked, idle to watch the flowers blossom and fall in front of the court; go to stay unintentional, and wander with the clouds outside the sky." The falling leaves and the old monk's intentions in the mountains must be the same, and the significance of accompanying the practitioners every year is also extraordinary. I think that the fallen leaves on the bench will also miss the old man, because it falls gently on the old man's hand, and he has felt the temperature and feelings of the old man at close range.
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