[Author Photo: Don't let the sun out of the Spring Festival]
Listen, the flute on the riverbank sounded again. This is the flute of a retired teacher, and this flute seems to have been blown for three years. Since the construction of the villa by the river, the empty, rich people are not eager to renovate, nor the wide space where they do not want to live, has become a place for the flute player to exercise.
The first time I heard the flute, I was drawn to the long rhythm, and although the music might be just a piece of music, I thought it was a tape recorder playing in a loop. What I wondered most was who played the tape recorder every day, and didn't this music make him tired of listening. Later, by chance, in an empty house by the river, I found out that it was a half-old man who had come here from other places to practice his flute. He said playing the flute is a physical exercise that sweats even in winter.
I take his word for it. When I was young, I also practiced the flute for a few days. Playing the flute is very much in need of strength, listen, the flute on the river, I believe - the flute is a high-intensity physical exercise. In particular, I believed that the flute sounded like a performer's effect.
In fact, the topic I want to write about is not the flute, but spring. However, it was the sound of the flute that seduced my attention and made my words wander for a while. To put it bluntly, spring, to me now, is like a white-haired old woman. Originally, she should have been a girl in the legend. At the very least, it should be a young woman.
My current residence, facing the river, is warm in winter and cool in summer. It's supposed to be a pleasant place, but it's bad for spring. This is the edge of the Sichuan Basin, and the sky can't get rid of the pale undertone. In winter, it rains in the spring in other places, such as the Jianmen Mountains. In winter, if it occasionally turns blue, the sun's light is as warm as elsewhere, such as the Jianmen Mountains, in the Spring and March.
I really don't know how people can live there in a place where all seasons are like spring. If you don't commit suicide, you will at least get irritability. Because, with my heart, this warm winter southwest Sichuan basin has made people feel a lot of confusion. Every season is spring, which is equal to no spring. Every day is joy, which is equal to no joy.
Here, spring is not a doll that has just landed on the ground, but a dirty old woman. As long as you pay a little attention, you can see it in any month of the year.
Speaking of spring, I have to say Spring Festival.
The ancient festival of spring is said to have come. What kind of festival is the Spring Festival? Now that I think about it, when I lived in the Jianmen Mountains, the Spring Festival should be a winter festival in our youth, and it should be a real winter festival. In our minds as teenagers, if there is heavy snow in those few days, it is the most festive atmosphere. If there is no heavy snow, light snow is also available. If there is no light snow, it is also possible to have light rain. If there is no light rain, there is a strong wind. If there is no strong wind, it is also possible to have a small wind. If there is no light wind, it is cloudy. The most important thing is that the weather should be cold. The colder the better.
Never let the sun out. As soon as the sun came out, the big cypress wood knots of firewood burned up a little unnaturally. If the sun is shining, who else would sit at home and roast the fire, gossip, and play cards? There is no fire, small talk, playing cards, and what a festive feeling.
[Author Photo: Spring at the fall of kiriko flowers]
If the sun had appeared during the Spring Festival, that Spring Festival would have been the most tasteless. The hope for the festival, the hope for a tasteless day, is a kind of pain. Therefore, the sun in the Spring Festival is the greatest harm to the teenager's me.
If it was a solar day, the fathers would not want to sit by the fire. They will intentionally or unintentionally circle around their own land or in the fields. At that time, the industrious father, who was the captain of the production team, could be displeased, and first carried the hoe to the collective field. During the Spring Festival, if teenagers can't see their parents playing cards leisurely, then there is unspeakable pressure in their hearts. Even if the friends play with each other, such as setting off artillery and swinging. However, when you are having fun, adults may call you to do this and that, which upsets you.
If it's snowing heavily, it's a blessing. The cows that the teenagers help their mothers serve during the holidays do not have to rush up the hillside. Keep them in a cattle pen, throw some hay, sprinkle some salt water on the hay, and at most drive two buffaloes to the ditch to drink water twice in a day. Sometimes, these things are still done by the mother. However, if it is a day of the sun, it is trouble. The sun is like a hypnotic ghost, making the heart of the playful teenager like a knife.
The reason is that the sun is out, and it is inappropriate to keep the cows in a circle. But once the mother went to herd the cattle and the adults were no longer at home, the holiday was over. Not to mention, the mother's behavior also directly threatens the teenagers who play. Because, that holiday cattle herding is the duty of a teenager. The pressure of life is not exempt from the juvenile cattle herding dolls.
A middle-aged man living on the edge of the Tsing Yi River, recalling a teenager living in the Jianmen Mountains, only to find that the Spring Festival should be called the Winter Festival. There is no Spring Festival there, but there is Spring Festival. Spring is in the fields where the wheat seedlings are knotted, when the pea blossoms are in bloom, in the dogs that walk in the grass (in heat), in the fearful sound of the cats that call spring, in the tender stems of plants that are as outstanding as dogs and chickens, in the white flowers of the locust trees, and in the ground where the pink tung flowers fall...
However, how many years and many years. Heavy snow and light snow are gone, not even the wind is gone. Wheat seedlings and peas were gone, and the running wild dogs and fields were gone. There is also the sound of cats calling in spring, and the stems of chicken-like plants. The fragrant and edible locust tree flowers are gone, and the chilly kirisame flowers have long gone. When all this is gone, where is the spring?
At this moment, the whistle on the river bank could not be heard, but there was the roar of the cars on the other side. Occasionally there was the sound of Tintin banging on the wood, and it was a new villa renovating. There are rows of villas on the riverbank. The renovated ones are very few. Most of them are still in the air, and the half-old man who plays the flute, if he is not afraid of repetition and boredom, can also play the melodious but monotonous song again. Music evolved into physical exercise, and winter evolved into spring. Where we evolved.