Text/Jiang Dan
Every child may not like rain, and so do I, when I was a child, I hated the spring rain season the most, and always felt that I didn't know when it was moldy at home.
When I began to slowly like the rain, I can't remember the specific time. I only know that now, when it rains, I like to stay in the car and listen to the rain, and I also like to sit in front of the floor-to-ceiling glass, holding a cup of hot tea in my hand, and quietly watching the rain fall from the sky like a genie.
In fact, for the love of rain, I think I am a "pseudo-rain fan", I do not want to walk in the hazy drizzle, but I like to hide in a dry house, to be a person who seems to like the rain.
This deliberate hypocrisy, perhaps like our lives, is true or false.
Every time it rains in the car, I turn off the wiper, let the rain drip all over the windshield, and then form a thin rain filament that slowly flows on the glass. Listening to the ticking of raindrops on the roof of a car, it was as if I were the only one left in the world, and my mind switched freely between the city where I lived and the distant hometown.
The rain in xuefeng mountain in my hometown is always a little more than in other places. Maybe it's because of the mountainous terrain, or maybe it's because God is particularly concerned about this small basin deep in the Snow Peak Mountain.
Every summer, the snow peak mountain will usher in a rapid rain at noon. My sister and I frantically rushed to collect the rice from the drying flats into the house before the heavy rain came. This feeling of racing against raindrops is still fresh in my memory and has become a fixed fragment of my childhood.
As soon as the rice was packed, the raindrops crackled and fell to the ground, causing the dust on the ground to rise in the air and rise with a summer heat. My sister and I hid under the eaves, sucking in the earthy and rice-smelling air as if this would drive the heat away.
The summer rains come and go quickly. In about twenty minutes, the rain stopped. At this time, I always ran out in a hurry, ignoring the urgent cries of my sister behind me, and my feet flew in the muddy mud. Sometimes I accidentally fell into the mud, my whole body was covered with mud, and I didn't care, and my heart was the happiest at that time.
As I grew up, I spent less and less time returning to my hometown, so I cherished the time I spent listening to the rain on Xuefeng Mountain.
Late at night, under the snow peaks, there is always silence, and the rain hits the roof on time every night, and the sound of ticking or dripping rain has become the only sound in the night. The next morning, the rain would always stop on time, and the owls would cry from the woods behind the house, a loud, hurried cry. The morning fog will rise from the foot of The Snow Peak Mountain, hovering at the top of the mountain and refusing to leave.
The night of Xuefeng Mountain always made me sleep very soundly, and with the hypnosis of the night rain, I woke up the next day and was more refreshed. This wonderful feeling makes me think that maybe the raindrops are the spirits of Xuefeng Mountain, and after she soothes the hearts of each of us, our boredom will disappear.
The rain on Xuefeng Mountain does not come at the right time every time, and sometimes it is occasionally naughty. After the beginning of spring, it is the season of planting seedlings, but it will rain lightly for several days in a row, and the slightest light rain makes the weather a little cold, and also hinders the work of the villagers.
However, as the people of dashan, the villagers of Xuefeng Mountain do not care about this little drizzle. So every spring, in the large farmland in front of the house, there are many villagers wearing bucket hats and wearing smocks, who are bent over and busy in the rain, and a group of them is most of the day.
At this time, I like to stand by the field with an umbrella and watch the villagers plant seedlings, and the green seedlings in the hands of the villagers quickly disappear, turning the original yellow farmland into a green field.
I had been standing on the mound to watch, next to the pink buds of peach trees, and from time to time a small bird flew in, whispered a few times, threw off the raindrops on my body, and flew into the hazy rain fog.
I would also look into the distance in the direction of the birds, the clouds of the Snow Peak Mountain in the rain, or wrapped around the mountainside, or hovering at the top of the mountain. Behind the mountains is the world I yearn for.
Years later, when I walked into the world behind the mountains and stayed in this world, I missed the rain of Xuefeng Mountain even more.
This rain, whether I was there or not, whether I missed it or not, still nourished the villagers of Xuefeng Mountain according to her ideas. However, among the nourished villagers, there is no longer me.