Wen | a tree Edit | Swallow Picture | network
The night is deeper, and a snow gently comes to the door, buckle your door, buckle my window, buckle you and my dreams to close the mountain moon.
I love snow, I like its whiteness and purity, and I prefer to immerse myself in the epiphany and the joy of being hoped for by it. Some people say that winter without snow still has the dignity of the seasons? Yes, if the snow is absent in winter, I believe that too many people will walk in a hurry and be at a loss, and the feeling of emptiness in their hearts will always follow and circle, and I don't know where the soul of winter is lost, and how the cold dignity should treat itself. Just like in spring, if there is no flower blossom of a tree and a tree, the warmth and hope of the red dust in the world do not know where to look. Everything is fine because you are here, and the winter is also good because the snow is still present.
Every year I tiptoe and look forward to a snow. Flip through the calendar, feel the weather, look for forecasts, and follow progress. I knew, I was hurrying in the cold wind, and so was the snow. Thousands of mountains and rivers, whistling clouds and winds, hurriedly walking, rushing to come. I was expectant, full of enthusiasm, eager to penetrate; I waited, the futon sitting alone, silent.
Snow swirled and fell one by one, falling under my feet, falling on the roof of the community, on the treetops, on the commuting paths I walked on every day, on the banks of the Xisha River, on the pastoral land, and on the campus I loved. When I was young, I walked into the campus with infinite expectations, I wanted to take this as a starting point, to run towards a wider world, never thought, rushed to a scene, the path was finally simplified into a folding line, from the campus to the campus of the other place. It is not a deliberate arrangement of fate, because of the love of the campus in my heart, everything has become logical, and I feel that there is a future where I have worked hard.
The future has come, and all that remains is to embrace the world. My world is the amorous land under my feet, with a beautiful little town. Living here is both so comfortable and so beautiful. There are delicious Wu family donkey meat, Lu family buns, Pi jia roast chicken, He family zhuang steamed buns, more fun Tang Pagoda Square, and the well-known Water Margin good Seoul.
Once, after the snow went to DonTa Square. Standing in the corner of the square, there was an inexplicable shock in my heart! In the white expanse of the earth is really clean, the Tang Pagoda stands majestically and silently, and the light filtered through the snow makes the sun and moon at this moment vibrate and speak, and the mountains and rivers are magnificent. I came to the tower with the snow and the tower covered with snow. "The millennium past has sunk. The rise and fall of idle pipes is even worse", this pagoda was built after five generations of Tang Dynasty after many generations of care and how many times of repair, after thousands of years of rain, snow, wind and frost, collection of a thousand years of innocent moonlight, it is difficult to hide the vicissitudes and quiet beauty of the world. Whether it is a glass of wine in the spring breeze of Tao Li or a thousand years of Zen heart, I approached it step by step, and my heart was full of solemn worship, and behind me, there was a string of deep and shallow footprints. Like the two lines of secrets that everyone wants to erase for Cangyang Gyatso. Just think, if it wasn't for a heavy snow that revealed his wanderings in Lhasa, could his love affair with Qiongjie continue forever? Can their love story still leave the red man and the green woman with a dazzling and poignant legend? "Thick earth and high heaven, lamenting the inexhaustible love of ancient and modern times; foolish men and women, poor wind and moon debts are difficult to repay", I don't know what footnote the ancient tower that has stood for a thousand years in the thick earth and high heavens has done to this earthly wind and moon love affair.
I also went to the wind and fire of water margin in Seoul when the snow was snowy, and in it, there was a sense of time and space travel, if it was not with my relatives, it was inevitable that there was a feeling of panic and emptiness that had been abandoned by time and shadow. Surrounded by relatives, three or five confidants are there, and the days are steady and stable, happy and comfortable. We went from the Wulong Temple where Song Jiang angrily killed Yan Poxi, to the Nine Heavenly Xuannu Temple where he held the Book of Heaven; from the Timely Rain Tea House to the Chaojiazhuang of King Tota Tianwang; from the ZhuGui Restaurant, to the Yuncheng County Ya full of torture equipment, from the Qingsong Hall carved with huge paintings of cattle cultivation and twenty-four filial piety to the commercial streets full of fireworks. Here condensed and precipitated, not only the appearance of the ancient architecture of the expo event, but also a fine texture, rich content of the Water Margin culture of the city, those roaring wind and clouds, wind and fire has been like dust, now, all of it, lying under the snow cover, deep, thick and long.
Snow is pure light, illuminating life and the world. Words also have light, power, and direction, allowing people to follow a snow to a spring city. "Cai Gen Tan" has a saying: The wind and flowers and snow are idle, and the labor is redundant. For the sake of endless fireworks, "Laosheng" is inevitable, but "Laosheng" is even more necessary to "Xusheng". Labor is redundant, Xu Sheng is safe. Slowing down at the right time, giving yourself the space for your soul to inhabit, taking a look at the wind and snow, and feeling the ubiquitous happiness and happiness is a very beautiful and good thing. Take a broad and simple heart, embrace the grass, mountains, rivers, the earth, walk and walk, the flowers bloom, don't they?
About author:Guo Xiaolan, net name one tree, teacher of Yuncheng County Experimental Middle School, member of Heze Writers Association, member of Shandong Provincial Prose Literature Society.
One Point Heart Dream Literature