2020.02.14 Fri 21st Lunar Month Chifeng Moderate snow
Last night it had gotten colder, and this morning it was overcast and the snow was not thin, which was a bit of a surprise. It is rare to see the vastness of the outside world in the Judou Room, "Pink and jade, northern scenery, thousands of miles of snow, fog, sky and clouds and mountains and waters up and down a white, a trace of a mustard three or two grains ..." All the scenes of purifying the soul and opening the heart are all conceived by the window, and there is no freedom in the cramped room. Opening the window, a cold air snatched the way and entered the god of wilting to wake up, the palm-sized sky was obscure and unclear, and the snow fell unconsciously, quietly falling into the earth, like the morning sleep of a lazy person, and like the silent thinking and waiting of a literati who had been ill for a long time. Surrounded by the dark tones of heaven and earth and things, the originally white snow also changed color, black and white. The snow is big and urgent, the sloping wind and snow do not have to return, I don't know what people at home are doing at this moment, what is the surprise and expectation, but now? Listening to the occasional sound of vehicles passing by, guessing the type and weight of the car, most of them are related to the epidemic. Chairman Mao's poem depicts how many people feel at this moment, remembering Ordos, where I work, my little home, two thousand five hundred miles away, is it also quiet and hopeful in this storm? People go to the empty building, the small bed is still the same, the small hall is empty and thin, and the barrier of thousands of miles is not just the intention of nature. It is impossible to return to people in the night of wind and snow; it is impossible to return to spring in wind and rain; it is impossible to drive away light horses, and the snow is full of bows and knives, delusional. Creation makes people and things for themselves.
At half past eight, my mother-in-law's wife had woken up, and I didn't know that last night and this morning were in a dream?
The snow was heavier again, and the wind seemed to be less. The streets are still there, the world is still there. I would like to travel in the snow, write a piece of snow in the love, and use a sense of pride to melt the snow in the mountains and rivers of the northern country, and the branches and branches are forked. (At Hongshan's home)
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