Mo Yan's official account released a new article about Yu Hua's contribution "Valley Breeze".
After reading the messages of netizens, many of them are ridiculing the expressive avatars of the two teachers, jokingly saying that this is the friendship CP between the "scribbled puppy" and the "calm puppy".
After laughing, I still read this essay carefully.
In the article, Yu Hua mentioned that when he lived in Sanya, he felt the balcony of his apartment and the breeze of the sunken hotel restaurant.
Yu Hua may not have studied psychology or mindfulness, but his experience of the breeze is completely "mindful"—devoting himself wholeheartedly to the present moment, and perceiving the wind really, concretely, and subtly.
What kind of breeze is this, I can't find an accurate expression, only a series of no, not the wind of Du Fu's "fine grass breeze shore", not the wind of Gao Pi's "crystal curtain moving breeze", Feng Yansi's "blowing a pool of spring water" is because of "the wind rises", it is too sudden, and it is not, let alone the wind in "the wind is sluggish and the water is cold......
This wind awakened a person's long-term life memory, and reminded him of the familiar "wind through the hall" in his childhood:
The valley breeze is not the wind of Top Gun, it will not go to bid farewell to Jing Ke, it knows that it is ordinary and small, so it is low-key, and its low-key is a bit like the wind I looked for in the hot summer when I was a teenager.
The valley breeze is soft and fresh, kind and friendly, and it seems to be an uninterrupted greeting when it comes to you.
Reading this essay also reminded me of the wind that blew in the countryside when I was a child.
Although the wind is everywhere, the wind is not the same as the wind.
Having lived in the city for more than 20 years, I have always felt that the wind in the city is either too rigid and neatly passed through the high-rise buildings, or too delicate, mixed with the scent of various perfumes and coffees.
In contrast, I still prefer the natural and unrestrained wind of the countryside.
The early morning wind, with a moist vapor, blows from the mountains, from the fields, from all directions, and everywhere it goes, it seems to be dyed with a layer of cool green.
The afternoon wind, with a hint of dry heat, passed through the willow leaves and the cicadas chirped, and came to the porch at the gate.
When I was a child, I used to sit there, holding half a watermelon, digging and eating it with a spoon, shaking my head to welcome the gust of wind blowing through the hall.
Neighbors pass by the door and always greet each other casually: Have you eaten?
And the wind at dusk is orange, painted with a layer of sunset afterglow, soft and warm. As twilight falls, the village is filled with the sounds of children calling for their children to come home for dinner.
Every time I recall this scene, there is always a faint quiet gentleness in my heart.
I always feel that people bathed in the evening breeze seem to be warmer and calmer than at other times.
There is also the willow wind in February, the peach blossom wind in March, the wind blowing through the wheat waves in May, the wind as far away as the sky in September, and the wind blowing down the snow on the eaves in December.
These wind drums and drums, going back and forth between heaven and earth, do not know where they begin and where they end. It spreads a sense of relaxation and freedom that comes with it.
I miss such winds.
Mo Yan said in his note to Yu Hua's essay that he had also written wind-related novels, but he wrote about tornadoes and typhoons.
Such a wind is extremely destructive, and it feels tense when it is written, and it will not be easy for the reader to read it.
Writers love to write about this kind of wind, because the wind may produce legends, while the breeze generally does not produce legends, but it is likely to produce love.
There may be no legend in the breeze, no bursting story.
The breeze is like an ordinary daily life, seemingly calm, trivial, and undisturbed. But if you let your heart pause and feel the gust of wind.
You will find the scent of rape flowers in the breeze, the cuckoo call, the evaporation of sweat, the softness of slow walking, the ripples of joy, and the sparkling poetry.
I like the wind.
Nowadays, the name of the hall is left, and it is no longer taken seriously in the hot summer.
The cool breeze is no longer a long journey from nature, but an artificial cool breeze, coming out of the refrigeration and air conditioning of private and public buildings, swirling and diffusing in rooms, halls, and buildings.
——Yu Hua "Valley Breeze"
Fans and air conditioners are of course the welfare of modern people, but if there is too much wind like this, the cervical spine will hurt, the head will be dizzy, and the body will have all kinds of problems.
Find a moment to get out of the air-conditioned room and go to the wind that blows in the valley, the wind in the wilderness, the wind that blows across the lake, the wind that shakes the willow branches and sycamores.
The wind, shapeless, free, mighty.