Winter is the season of plum blossoms, and on the riverside next to the plum garden, small white seeds like flowers are formed on the branches of the black trees, which is very ancient. In order to wait for the whole winter to pass, the ancient children will write a special red paper, the winter solstice day begins to write, draw a stroke every day, nine strokes per word, until the end of the nine-nine, the last stroke of the wind word is written, the winter officially ends, and the spring wind comes. Is winter not as cold as the weather forecast predicts, and spring will not feel as golden as expected? This week, it is time to write the word "spring" on the red paper.
The ancients also had a saying, called "ten thousand miles of spring wind". This word "moving" is used well, I have been thinking about this day all winter, and as soon as the heavens and the earth move, the heavens and the earth will be renewed. This is a beautiful yearning, but also a dream that shakes the world and renews the earth. The wait for the first spring breeze this year is a bit unusual. The usual winter is long and wet and cold, but this year it is not so cold. The Kawazu cherry blossom in the botanical garden also blooms about 40% of the flowers by December, leaving plant engineers afraid that it will consume the energy of spring prematurely, and when the real spring arrives, it will not be able to bloom. The garden specially built a greenhouse for them to avoid wind and snow, but when it snows around Shanghai, there is no wind and snow in Songjiang. By the time of the Spring Festival, the plum garden of the botanical garden is full of flowers, but Kawazu cherry blossoms are still blooming.
However, the spring breeze still arrived as promised. On a sunny day, go to see the Moon Garden, and those bare branches emit countless new shoots. Even when such an unusual spring arrived, the spring breeze arrived as scheduled, with countless reddened new shoots. Reminiscent of the swelling pain of changing teeth at the age of seven, the tight skin of the body at the age of fourteen, and the swelling of the fetus in the abdomen when pregnant at the age of thirty, in short, are all feelings when life grows. No matter what kind of spring, how unnecessary, how atypical, spring still comes with life.
Many years ago I translated a short poem written by an American child for Childhood, the original of which was published in the Children's Study Edition of Cricket Magazine. I vaguely remember it: spring is coming, the river is in its bed, the birds are in its nest, the angels are in his heaven, the little children are in the arms of his mother. I would love to add that the moon season is on its branches, and the aroma is in its flower bones.
May the word "spring" be finished, the flowers bloom, and the world be happy.
Anchor | Qin Yue