Author | Lao Lu • 2022.01.19
In the past few years, I have become interested in the lunar festival, and I often look for traces between the pages and threads.
For a thousand years, the four seasons have passed, everything has continued, twenty-four festivals a year, one by one, clouds and waters have come and gone, like a weeping child running barefoot on a field, counting the petals in the spring, breaking a section of corn in the summer, and holding a rice ear in the autumn, and in the winter, the hundred grains and thousands of things return to the warehouse, and it also finds its own bed where it sleeps for three winters.
Today is the third day of "April Nine", and tomorrow is cold.
Counting from the ninth winter solstice, counting one "nine" every nine days, counting to "nine nine" eighty-one days, lasting three months, four nine is counting to four nine days, the sky is frost and snow is very cold, that is, the great cold day. The great cold is the last of the twenty-four solar terms of the year, after the great cold to establish spring, the cycle of solar terms, the revival of all things, budding, growth, maturity, cycle back and forth, the years leisurely.
Folk have a very interesting "Nine Nine Songs", 1929 does not shoot, 3949 ice walking, 5969 across the river to see the willow, 79 rivers open, 89 geese come, 99 plus 19, ploughing cattle everywhere.
And because the fourth and ninth is approaching the end of the lunar calendar, joy and joy are full of heaven and earth, overflowing among the clouds and mud, coupled with the sparse snow in Jiangnan, it is indeed a cheerful and relaxed festival, gentle and gentle as promised, light and light, peaceful, and determined.
The day before yesterday, the sixteenth day of the solar calendar, is my old father's eighty-sixth birthday, cake and six colored candles, all warm, six is smooth, we let him silently recite a wish in his heart, and come back to celebrate the birthday after a year. Through the years, the father has always been in good health and spirit, and has also blessed the peace and smoothness of his children and grandchildren. Since ancient times, sheep have the grace of kneeling milk, crows have the righteousness of feeding back, every year on the birthday of my father, I regard it as the twenty-fifth solar term in our lives, this festival is called warmth, companionship.
Heaven and earth are wide, the green mountains are still the same, although I can no longer be a wind-chasing teenager with flowers, but can I be a woodcutter fishing who dances in the wind and is as light as a thunderbolt, the town day is crowned with idle clouds, with the breeze as the belt, when the holiday is livable, a bamboo is added, the stove is opened, the fire is boiled, the tea is boiled, the smell is fragrant and mashed, and when I suddenly remember the flying frost of last June, I have a relationship in my heart, the strange sun lane, people sing the West River, and call for silence.
The seeds of countless dreams in the deep soil will soon wake up quietly, and when they wake up, they will dress up the mirror and wear flowers and beauty, and then they will look forward to it, waiting for Li Chun to break through the soil and fill the garden, which is exactly the spring wind.
The long river sets, the end of the year is full of makeup for the New Year, the years are cold, and I pray that all things will be safe.
