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The relationship between one person and a place is quite like the relationship between one person and another. A person falls in love with a place at first sight, and when she is in that place, she is willing to spend time measuring every inch of land with her feet and admiring every grass and tree with her eyes. When she left there, she would miss it a lot, and she would spend her days thinking about when she would be able to go back.
By some measure, he has been living in Seven Maple Lane for more than twenty years.
Alley, serene, low-key, calm. Walking in the long and narrow alleys, it is as if you are passing through the tunnel of history. The bluestone alleys carry the migration of history, and the smell of old Wenzhou is born. Sunlight hits the masonry and reflects on people's faces, piercing people's eyes. In a trance, it was as if I was in another era. A hint of breeze came, and the whole person seemed to be slightly drunk.
The alleys adjacent to Seven Maple Lane are many. Such as Yongning Lane, Rope Lane, Barracks Lane... These alleys have popular names, but they are dyed with flowers by the dots of time. Let the sword of time slip through, and still end up in this world. An alley is a story, and they all interpret Wenzhou's past and present lives.
The alleys are mostly filled with the warm fragrance of secular life. In the early years, Seven Maple Lane gathered all the literary and martial arts. The small bookstore looks across the street, and the dark purple couplet hangs on the lintel, and the long days are few, and the fragrance of books is lonely. From west to east, it is getting noisy: rice noodle shops, barber shops, cold drink shops, tailor shops, watch repair shops... Standing on the street, seeing the order, like the old rhyme foot flat and flat, all the way to the road, catchy. The alley is good in tolerance, the shouting of the cart, the shouting of the burden, can mix with the crowd to make a living. I was impressed that sometimes I met a vendor carrying a load of fine green sugar cane passing by and asking us if we wanted to chop it. So everyone picked out a thin and long one, and stood on the ground, saying that it was too late, then fast, and the sharpener slashed down fiercely, and half a sugar cane was suddenly divided, and it could be eaten as long as it could be split. This trick is the most tempting for boys, and if there are girls watching, of course, it is more powerful.
In the mid-1980s, motorcycles had not yet become mainstream, and bicycles were a more common way to get around. Whether it is winter or summer, there are many people in the alleys. Men, women and children gathered together, cotton clothes and single shirts, carrying baskets and burdens, foaming between words and laughter, and a piece of dust rose under their feet. Suddenly, motorcycles drove into the alley at an inopportune time, taking up half of the road. The leisurely pedestrians did not panic, glanced sideways, and walked as usual. The motorcycle stepped on the masonry road, and the sound of the motor was clearly audible. The motorcyclist in the memory, the black shirt, the jeans, the young and handsome face holding the handlebar, the eyes are not looking away, and the hero is looking at the street. It was a very windy one.
In June, the alleys are wet and moist. The flowers on the window sills of people on the side of the alley are colorful, and the air is wafting with pleasant incense. There are always women who love to float long wet hair and tie people's eyes, and there are always men who love to show off their naked bodies and make a kind of black and red bodybuilding show off. At the end of the alley, there is a round arch double and door, a pair of door knockers tied with red silk are so small; Lou Tingting, there is a back shadow walking towards the door ring, at this time, you seem to be touched, murmuring: "This alley is really deep." "When you look back at the road, the twilight is suddenly very thick. At that time, the twilight breeze is clear, the wind chimes on the corner of the eaves of an old house are ringing happily, sprinkling a tight sound, the sound is slow, so you naturally stop your steps, do not dare to move forward, you are worried that if you move slightly, the whole alley will fly away, flying away without knowing where to go...
Year after year, after living here for a long time, you will lose your edges and corners and flow into the quiet life of a small people in the alleys. Only at this time, the fun of alley life spontaneously emerged, and the springs poured in. Walk a few steps slowly, count the long green bricks and stones, and suddenly have inexplicable joy; persistently, carrying the flow of people, often get the most abundant hospitality in the inconspicuous small restaurants at the bottom of the alley, not only taste the authentic Wenzhou cuisine, but also listen to the boss who has gone through vicissitudes to tell a dusty history; more interestingly, every face in the alley is familiar, you can't remember him, he has smiled at you like a peach blossom. At first, I was still in a hurry, secretly blaming my own forgetfulness. Over time, I was able to look back and smile calmly. Why should we have known each other, the city has seen all the heat and cold, and the warmth and warmth at this time are really precious.
What I remember most is that whenever the stars and moon shine in the quiet night, there is always a pipe of flute sound like a flowing spring that flows into the ear. The feeling of swinging back to the intestines is really indescribable, like sitting alone in the breeze of the breeze, or walking on the beach where the tide has just receded. The sound of the flute came from the upper floor of the house outside the courtyard, but I couldn't be sure of its exact location. With so many windows, which one is the piper? The sound of the flute, like a cry, suddenly adds a little more reserved and leisurely meaning to the noisy and restless night. The gentle music always conquers those who are accustomed to being picky, not like a tyrannical strongman, who uses a knife to coerce the passers-by who have no fist and no courage to make them obedient. Maybe someone listened, guessed, looked, and thanked the piper as I did.
There is no doubt that the piper does not have to painstakingly search for a confidant. All the most affectionate listeners do not want to meet each other, but only need this beautiful music to inspire, and they can achieve the deepest communication of the heart. In the twilight of the night, I often leaned against the window and looked out, not seeing the figure of the piper floating around, but I had no reason to worry about it, and I hated the regret and regret of not knowing each other. The cold sound of music is still in the ears, which is enough, and what better proof of the joyful and pure existence of the piper?
My mother's house was a military dormitory, and across the wall was a Magnificent Mansion of European-style architecture. About this mansion, in the past, it was in Lushan, and little was known. Later, it was learned that its owner was Hu Zhong, who graduated from the American General Staff College in the 1930s and served as the commander of the 46th Division of the Kuomintang Army, the commander of the Army's armored corps, and the chief of the guards of the "Presidential Palace". Life is like duckweed drifting, witnessing the struggle between the Kuomintang and the Communists, suffering and clutching, and finally dying on the treasure island.
The house sits north and faces south, is about 10 meters high, and is three two-story buildings. There are two large trees in the mansion, rarely tall, and the dense oval green leaves shade most of the house, covering the house cool and cool. The trees sometimes sing comfortably. That was when it was windy and rainy. At this time, the one in front of the west building is more erect, showing a male temperament; the one in front of the east building is more graceful, showing the gentleness of the female. Two large trees sang male and female duets. They don't sing bel canto songs, nor do they sing popular and rock songs, they sing beautiful folk songs that they write and sing at will. Occasionally, there are unfazed, melodious birdsong, pearls spilling out of the trees, that is the best "orchestration"... When I encounter such a time, I will involuntarily listen to the window, full of sorrow and forget.
The house originally housed several families. There was an elderly man who, every summer, always liked to sit on a wicker chair, shake an old fan like hers, listen to the endless music from the phonograph in the room, and then fall asleep to the intermittent music. Sometimes, she suddenly woke up and eagerly asked, "Is Mu Guiying the commander-in-chief?" Or "Qin Xianglian finished crying?" Seeing that no one answered, she listened quietly to a few words, and then picked up, with an imperceptible smile on her face, and her hand gently patted the armrest, making people feel lazy and relaxed.
In the face of the elderly, sometimes I think that the meaning of an old record is enough to withstand a vigorous life and love. This piece of plastic paper that has been listened to hundreds of times can easily eat up the time of a person's life, and their youth, love, redness, shyness and delicacy have all become slow voices hidden in the old records, and when they are old, they are released little by little, and these memories are revealed layer by layer.
Today, the old man has long since passed away. Several families have also moved out one after another. The crevices of the walls were covered with misty green moss, and the ground was overgrown with weeds. The great mansion had only two large trees silently holding on. In the mansion, the noise of the past has been silenced in the riverbed of time, like running water flooding the reef. Wandering in this empty courtyard, but seeing the green and yellow dappled trees swaying in the wind, the sunset reflecting a corner of the dark high wall of moss, and its shadow was projected in front of the court. Sometimes I wonder, more than eighty years ago, it was also in this long corridor, who once walked? Who has ever met? What kind of joy and sorrow have there been? Everything was left yesterday, and yesterday is already ancient.
The quiet house occasionally has a lively time. In the past few years, the streets held opera activities, and they would set up a stage in this antiquities courtyard and display lights. The stage of the open-air bathing wind returns the soul in the darkening night with a play full of red. The picturesque green clothes and the handsome little students of the wind god are entangled in the light. Ban Hu Ya, a sigh, a pulse of sound lines seem to be broken. Costumes, cheongsams, cigarettes, towels draped across the neck... The shadows of people on the stage are like dust, the dark incense is longing, the singing is stacked in one place, inside and outside the play, it is a trance.
In fact, the compound where the mother lived was separated from the Hu family house by only a few simple and low bungalows. These bungalows were originally reserved for a dozen families in the compound to enjoy as carports. Later, with the acceleration of the urbanization process, people's pockets became more and more inflated, and bicycles and motorcycles that relied on transportation were replaced by self-driving cars. The carport is useless. One day, several wild cats appeared on the bungalow, either perched on the roof, and they talked about love without hesitation, or they calmly and leisurely walked on the roof of the tile. They are not afraid of people, sometimes you deliberately throw a small stone on the roof of the tile, they are not afraid, the little bean-like eyes stare directly at you, think that you are not a threat to it, and they will take care of themselves and rejoice. As for eating, there is really no need to worry. Xu found these little guys interesting, and the feral cats were almost fed by some meat bones that neighbors often dropped. These wild cats actually grew fat and strong, and the posture was very similar to that of a woman somewhere after pregnancy, and it was unstoppable. In the eyes of the wild cats living here, even if a thunderclap shook the big house, it would not affect their freedom in this "love house".
In the small city of Wenzhou, many old streets have been demolished and occupied by pieces of modern new cities, which is inevitable. This alley was originally said to be demolished, but later not only was it not demolished, but it was also included in the key protection objects. Then, the alleys are restored, whitewashed, and the quaint atmosphere is mixed with the smell of too much modern paint and wall paint, but the things in the bones still belong to the past years.
Old buildings without historical connotations are superficial, and existing in old alleys just as nostalgia or remembrance is just another kind of old photo-style display. The house must be occupied, the shop must be opened, and the street must be walked. Its existence is not only to present the vicissitudes of the next life, but also to exude the breath of life, let people feel its soul, and hear its heartbeat. If not, even if they are preserved, they will be nothing more than an empty shell of history.
Today, more residents in the alleys have moved to new residential areas. Several rice noodle shops, grocery stores, and cold drink shops that opened shops in the alleys eventually closed their doors because of the snubbed doors and the scarcity of customers. Neighbors who used to be youthful are now on the threshold of middle age. The chic thing about the occasional gathering is that it is not like the general class reunion, the opening of the mouth is not money, women, or the power house, we are talking about the sea at the dinner table is all the alleys of the memory, whose patio is the clearest water, whose bonsai is the best, there is no long and short, only the wind and snow, the real sense of the wind and snow moon.
Nowadays, the elderly are the most active group in the alley. Playing cards and basking in the sun, these most common activities constitute the most important outdoor activities of the elderly. When they move outdoors, insignificant roles in the family, they find comfort in each other. They became a striking sight in the alleys. And they were accompanied by dogs in the alley all day. Most of these dogs, not famous dogs, lie lazily in the alleys and take a nap. When you approach them, they will look up alertly, and their eyes will show a light of joy. Perhaps, they are accustomed to looking at the people in this alley, and suddenly see strange faces, this kind of surprise, I am afraid that they are the same as people. Just for a moment, it lay back in place and continued its sleep. Occasionally I'll meet a restless guy or two. Their usual trick is to stand up violently, slowly approach you, and keep sniffing you with their noses, but keeping a guarded distance from you. Then, stretching his waist and kicking his legs, he shook his whole body, and his whole spirit was shaken. After that, some will follow in your footsteps and send you all the way to the alley; some will ignore you, feel bored, and turn back to lie down and continue to sleep.
Old people gather to play mahjong, and if it gives people a sense of activity, it is actually an illusion. Because this is the result of giving up on other contents of life. Difficulty in hiking, bidding farewell to energy-consuming sports, the reduction of feasting and drinking, the stagnation of their careers, the termination of work, in a word, they are forced to rest and withdraw from the center of life in the name of "nurturing the elderly". This makes their looks and hearts grow older.
In the alley, there is a loquat tree planted in the courtyard. One day, the sky was low, the rain was drifting obliquely, and the dark clouds were rushing, as if they were rushing to the market. But this does not prevent the purple swallows from rising and falling in the depths of the alley, and the trees are dripping green. The most surprising thing was that after a few days of not seeing, a loquat tree in the old house, the dense green leaves, were rapidly full of ripe loquat. In the face of the space that exhausts your imagination, you can imagine its fiery passion in the sun and warmth, or you can imagine the loquat fruit fragrance that flutters in the breeze and night dew... Maybe it's accumulating the essence of a spring and bursting out in these few short days?
This loquat tree has been living in a corner of the old house for more than ten years. For more than ten years, it has been peaceful, unyielding and subservient, only following its own laws of its own fruit period, willing to be ignored by others for its intoxicating beauty. Suddenly, I realized that the loquat tree is like a human being, it is also spiritual, and it has a high level of taste. Taste this thing for the qi for the soul for the bones for the charm, can only understand! Sighing deep hidden alleys with loquat trees outstanding posture, Fang knows how easy it is to taste the beauty that the world ignores!
Life is the invisible sun in the hearts of all living beings. All life strives to find and adapt to their own living environment, and all of them take the most natural, sincere and authentic state of existence as the highest dream of their own life. In the tunnel through time, the wind and dust of history are still beautiful in the old alley, I see brick by brick, grass and tree, cat and dog, as if to explain to me the essence and meaning of life.
The alley is a tree, a big tree with many branches. Under the trees, there are cold and lonely brick roads, crawling bugs, and scattered shops, pleasant citizens. It's all a mixed story. Every drop of rain and dew between the leaves, irrigating the distant and fine story. Every inch of the land under the tree grows with fresh and authentic life.
When there is nothing to do, I often go to the surrounding alleys to wander around. Familiar things are always easy to make people think calmly, steps are soothing, and the past is awakened by objects in front of the eyes. The body is filled with happiness, the red sunset sprinkles on the body, a bird song, and the surrounding red smoke quietly rises. People are lifted up by this power, and fear and sorrow are filtered very clean.
The night is already deep, and the neon is still dappled. I walked along the green brick path, stepping on my own shadow and stomping back to my mother's house. The path led me forward, and the wind between my fingers was like a slipping memory; and the ethereal alley lamp was like a watching life. Although it is only a short-lived residence in my mother's house after all, the only thing that is gratifying is that it is not difficult to expect peace and poetry in a small city of integration, which is not the happiest destination for me?