Night reading and unwinding are beneficial
Remembering your childhood, remembering your hometown, what do you think of?
With poetic language and childlike spiritual imagination, the writer Li Hanrong recalls the pastoral village where he was once raised, the sunset he saw on the back of a yellow ox, the wicker hat that he learned to weave without a teacher, the starry night and the moon in the water in the memory...
Today's recommended essay is excerpted from Li Hanrong's new prose anthology "There are always magpies waiting for people to come". In the writer's pen, all things are more sentient, and he hides the profound understanding behind the words to guide us to discover.
Locust Tree Chronicles
The author | Li Hanrong
Illustrations| Photogram, pexels
01
When I was young, the locust tree in front of my hometown was still small, not much taller than me, and I regarded it as my brother.
It was a head taller than me, and I thought, it should be a year older than me, even if it is two years older, two years older than me, more sensible than me, more assertive, more concerned than I will care about people, and naturally care about me. So I had a good brother who was two years older than me.
When I got up in the morning, I first ran to the locust tree, stood up straight, compared with my good brother, and saw who grew faster, I was naturally inferior to the locust brother. After two days, it was half a grate higher than me again. But I'm not jealous of it, brother, it should be taller than brother. The locust tree, which was not at all proud of my head, stood quietly in front of me and said: Don't worry, there are seedlings that do not worry about growing.
When I came home from school, I hung my school bag on a thick branch of the locust tree, at that time the bag was not heavy, there were two or three textbooks, a few homework books, I could not let it carry, but I thought so: I am younger than it, I have gone to school, but Brother Locust can not go to school to read, it carries a school bag, and it has become a primary school student carrying a school bag. My brother should be more cultured than I am.
But I was also worried, Brother Locust's shoulders were tender, I was afraid of crushing it, I was afraid of affecting its length, and I let it carry a school bag for a while every day, just like walking on the way to school. Then taking it off and leaning against its roots, I let brother Locust get close to the culture in the bag.
When I was studying under the tree, Brother Huai listened quietly, did not make a little noise, and knew the truth of tranquility and distance better than the students in the class. I believe that the articles and poems I memorized, brother Locust, would also recite.
I recite "away from the grass on the original ..." Brother Locust chanted silently, while his body moved, it was in accordance with the rhythm of the poem in the "departure" of the ground up for a mile; I carried "two yellow orioles singing green willows ..." Brother Locust's leaves also read words in the wind, and two yellow orioles appeared on the top of Brother Locust's head, indicating that it was really reciting, the bird could understand the words of the tree the most, and the yellow oriole heard the tree shouting the name of the yellow oriole, and the yellow oriole flew in. When I read Chairman Mao's teachings, "Study well and improve every day," Brother Huai really grew a head and was much higher than me, "Every day upwards" I read on my mouth, but Brother Huai remembered it in his heart and manifested it on his body.
When I was writing, I must have been around Brother Huai to write quickly and well. The quietness of the brother made me quiet very quickly, and most of the things in the world, except for singing and acting, must be done well in silence, and no scholar, thinker, philosopher, or scientist works in a noisy manner. My father, who farmed the land, was also quiet, and my father said that noise and noise would frighten the seeds and hurt the vitality of the land.
At that time, I didn't know so much, but I liked the quietness of Brother Huai, quiet, there must be a wide state of mind; I also like the simplicity of Brother Huai, just so green, a refreshing body, at most there are a few birds, a bend of the moon, but how to see how to look good, how to read how to read, this is not a good article?
I sat under the tree, always thinking about the spring, sometimes my mind was not smooth, I would circle around the tree a few times, as if around the center of truth, goodness and beauty, around the center of poetry, turning around, from the above, it turned into the following of the willow dark flowers. I often think that my writing teacher is my quiet, subtle, refreshing brother Huai, infected by it, my words have some quiet, subtle, refreshing taste.
I can't always remember the mathematical tricks, and in this respect, Brother Locust is much better than me, and once I recite it, it will be memorized, and it will be applied and calculated immediately. Addition, subtraction, multiplication and division, it is all proficient.
In the spring, it does addition, a piece of green buds plus many pieces of green buds, plus a few small birds, continuously add a lot of green buds, many birds and a burst of acacia flowers, plus the sky is bluer than the mother's blue turban, and the sum of spring is obtained;
In the summer it multiplies, the green leaves multiply on the green leaves, and then multiplies the stars in the night, multiplies the dewdrops in the morning - that is also the pearl it uses for calculation, even if it is a rich summer;
In autumn, it does subtraction, a little subtraction of some leaves, butterflies around and geese passing overhead, also a little subtraction, autumn will gradually thicken, the result will soon come out - frost, out;
Doing division in winter is what it is best at, deleting complexity and simplifying, dividing three by five, clean trunks, simple branches, pointing to a few stars high in the sky, and the "quotient" that can be seen at a glance comes out - white snow covers the earth.
At this time, I also received my report card from the school: 98 points in Chinese, 97 points in mathematics, and 96 points in general knowledge of nature. I also gave my brother Huai a score, and I wrote the score on him: 98 points in Chinese, 100 points in mathematics, and 100 points in natural common sense.
I think of it this way: I recite the article Brother Locust also, because I recite it in front of it, and the homework I do Brother Locust will also do, because I do it on it, it sees the answers clearly, so it should be the same as my language score; mathematics it is a full score, it is a natural mathematical genius, I can't compare with it; natural common sense It is also a full score, because it is nature, common sense is only our superficial understanding of nature, and it holds the esoteric secrets of nature.
02
I'm growing up, and Brother Locust is growing taller. Our friendship is also deepening, I often say what I say to Brother Huai, he always listens to me patiently, never interrupts me, does not interject casually, who can patiently listen to a lonely child's story? In those years there was only my locust brother.
Sometimes, when it understood my heart and felt that it had to say something to me, its words were always so sincere and gentle. In the wind, it spread out the emerald green leaves piece by piece, and put every word written in the palm of my hand in front of my eyes, making me read it repeatedly. In its language I always see brightness, greenery, tenderness and fragrance from the depths of the heart.
At this time, the dictionary of the human world began to be full of vitriol and fierceness, and a rough grammar that a child could not understand and could not accept was popular in life. A child who likes to talk and longs to be listened to, when it is almost impossible to find a person to speak, I thank me for having a good brother, my brother locust, it always stands there quietly, waiting for me, listening to me at any time, its emerald green, gentle words, ready to unfold for me.
When I was wronged and uncomfortable, I also vented in front of Brother Huai, I did something excessive, a few times, my heart was really suffocated, I took a paper-cutting knife, cut a few cuts in Brother Huai's body, and transferred the pain in my heart to Brother Huai, my brother Huai was injured, but it did not shout, silently endured my pain.
Another time, a vicious person bullied me, I am sorry for my brother, I put my anger out of you. That evening, I carved the name I hated into the tree with a small knife and wrote down a vicious word. I'm sorry, Brother Locust, for carving such a bad name on you, does he deserve it? After carving it, I regretted it, I felt sorry for my brother Locust, but I couldn't scrape it off with a knife, I couldn't let my Brother Locust get hurt again. In this way, Brother Huai had to carry those bad strokes with him for the rest of his life. Later, Brother Huai's body was not too decent, a little biased, and I guess I was tortured by that name and those bad strokes.
Perhaps, Brother Huai has a broad heart, it doesn't care what name or what stroke, that is nothing at all, even if you engrave the emperor's name on it, it does not pay attention to it, it should do whatever it wants, as usual, send its green leaves, grow its rings, write its growth diary.
It looks a little off, maybe misled by the wind, when the wind blowing from the small river passes in front of my house, to turn a corner, Brother Locust gently deviates to the right; it may also be influenced by me, I read books when I was a child, I love to lean on Brother Locust, Brother Locust thought I was going to make it grow to that side, just listen to my words a little longer, just a little off.
Later, I contracted a condition called "first love", and I secretly fell in love with a name that emitted a faint grass fragrance. But this is a groundbreaking event, and how mysterious and holy it is, just like a man walking barefoot toward a pure white snow, afraid of stepping on the snow, and unable to help but walk toward the white of the dream.
Am I a person with bad intentions? How can you have nostalgia for others, will people scold you, hate you, and look down on you? Who can I say this to? This gossamer thought was so entangled in my heart, and my heart was inhabited by thousands of spiders, all of them weaving emotions around a center, so serious, but so chaotic, countless gossamer overlapping and intertwining into a mixture of fragrant and bitter happiness that hoped for results but was destined not to see results!
Who do I say that? I can't say it to anyone! Who does the bee with pollen in its arms say it to? The silkworm that embraces the silk, to whom does it say? I had to keep my spring a secret.
Heart, it's about to explode. On a quiet moonlit night, I told the secret of my heart to Brother Huai, brother Huai listened, promised to keep it absolutely secret for me, not to say it to anyone, not to the birds that stayed overnight in the trees, nor to the moon passing overhead, but what to do, Brother Huai couldn't come up with an idea, probably Brother Huai had not yet had the experience of first love.
At this time, I saw that Brother Huai was as melancholy as I was, and it seemed that he was also caught in the troubles of his first love. I understood that Brother Huai was willing to share the secrets of spring and the bitterness of spring. I couldn't help but take out a knife and carve the name on Brother Locust, and for the sake of the safety and secrecy of that name, I stood on a stool, high in the tree, on top of the ugly name that I had carved a year ago, and I solemnly and painted that beautiful name. Beautiful, standing tall above the ugly. In this way, in the most noble part of spring, on the fragrant rings of the locust brother, I left the handwriting of my youth and treasured my beloved name.
Brother Huai became a monument to my first love.
Later, brother locust grew taller and taller, higher than the eaves, high above the roof, high above the chimney, higher than the willow tree, higher than the elm tree, higher than the poplar tree, higher than the already high tsubaki tree, higher than the part of the sky that my youthful heartbeat could touch. Gradually, I could only look up to see the tall canopy of the locust brother.
I know that Brother Locust sees that I am gradually growing taller, brother Locust does not want me to always keep next to it and draw some repetitive strokes, does not want me to always circle around it, Brother Locust himself also sees the sky higher than the eaves and roof, and it will grow there.
The tree is like this, let alone the people? I pressed my ear to Brother Locust's body, and I heard the blood flowing inside; Brother Locust nodded to me in the wind, beckoning, I understood Brother Locust's meaning, it said: We can't stop growing.
Later, I went out and left Brother Huai.
03
Decades later, when I returned to my hometown, Brother Huai was still alive, and Brother Huai, who was two years older than me, has now grown into a towering tree, and his appearance is a little old, not like my brother, but like my grandfather. In the face of it, I can only look up, like looking up to the great ancestors.
But it clearly still knows me, I stand in front of it, and immediately smell the fragrance in its heart, it has watched me grow up, I have grown up breathing in this fragrance, this fragrance comes from its heart, and it is deeply immersed in my heart. For many years, it reminded me with such a heart fragrance that it has always preserved this innocent fragrance in life, and a tree proves its existence in such a beautiful way.
And man is far less beautiful than a tree, we are always wandering and catching in too much turbidity, in human parlance it is called maturity and success; we gradually forget that we have also been so innocent and beautiful, we have begun a total betrayal of youth with peace of mind, and we have slipped all the way to the direction of greed, the direction of the city servant, the direction of the muddy water that we once hated, the direction of the city servant, the direction of the muddy water.
The inner fragrance of a locust tree proves its existence, we prove our existence with cloudy wealth, cloudy power, cloudy reputation, you carefully identify, our existence is nothing else, we are cloudy itself, or the embodiment and alias of cloudy.
At this moment, I breathed in the touching fragrance preserved in Brother Huai's heart. I cried out in my heart: My good brother! If I have something dirty on me, something muddy, something ugly, Brother Locust, you have to rebuke me, educate me, wash me, wash my heart, and summon my soul.
My brother did not speak, but stood humbly, standing where it had always stood, and I thought that my brother had turned this land into an aromatic magnetic field.
My little brother, in his eyes now, not only has not grown up, but he is even younger than he was at the beginning, and xiao has become his son, and xiao has become his grandson.
I looked up at my brother like I looked up at my great grandfather, who was becoming more and more worthy of respect.
I suddenly remembered the name I had engraved on Brother Locust many years ago, and I couldn't remember the ugly name at all, but I remembered the beautiful name, the secret of that spring. Brother Locust, you have been hiding that moving name on your body, and you keep carrying it to the heights, and you keep running to the sky with that name, as if you want to put her on the moon, on the strongest marble in the sky.
I finally understood that I was looking up at more than just a tree, I was looking up to the purest part of my life.
When we seem to understand life, we create the original secrets and fairy tales of life with a transparent heart and sincere sorrow. At that time, we stood in the low places of the world, we trembled, we carefully preserved our own dew-like transparent heart, it was so clean, so precious, so fragile and fragile, that there was no innocent vessel in the world that could match its cleanliness and preciousness to preserve it, so that how many treasures of youth were broken, scattered, and disappeared.
Fortunately, my brother Huai saved the purest and most priceless part of my life for me.
A tree cherishes the memories of my youth, holding it up in the sapphire sky.
I was looking up, a man who was getting old, and now I looked back at the myths of his early years.
Look up at the purest parts of life.
He looked up for a long time...
With deep thoughts, pure emotions and exquisite language, Li Hanrong's writing has distinct characteristics, is longer than imagination, and is full of tension, focusing on excavating the meaning behind ordinary people and objects from the level of inner feelings.
"There are always magpies waiting for someone" is a gentle book that records all the beauty of this world, insignificant but so heartwarming. Good things always happen, and we wait together. Perhaps, we should embrace the good and wait for the moment when the magpie flies.
There are always magpies waiting for people to come Good things will always happen Li Hanrong healing inner warm essay ¥29 purchase