Excerpt composition

It’s the grass yellow season again. The mottled green all over the field disappears, and only the dry light yellow gradually fills people's sight, which is the most flexible after-song at the end of life.

I like to see the fallen leaves falling on the dead grass. The red leaves and yellow grass stems are very vivid and beautiful. Looking at them, I will think of the sunset when it slowly sets in the west. The desolate splendor will remind you of the warmth and touch of the waning white-haired old man walking hand in hand on the stone steps, calm and safe.

After the first snowstorm in the cold winter, they will disappear from the ground and return to the embrace of Mother Earth to rest. Wait, after a long wait, the first gentle call of the spring breeze will wake up all their descendants.

I like to see the beauty of the green grass on the south bank of the river. The bleak winter escapes in their laughter. What tender new green stems are standing bravely in the cracks of the rocks and on the soil. Her slender waist grew inch by inch in the cold wind and rain that turned from warm to cold, dyeing the embankment and the earth bit by bit, and weaved an exciting spring coat under the blue sky and breeze.

The luxuriant grass, you can’t bear to step on it, touch it gently with your hands, as delicate as a baby’s skin, strands of it slipping through the palm of your hand, and some tiny rhythms of life are transmitted from your hands to your heart. , people can't help but sigh in their hearts: Such a weak plant can have such a tenacious life, and it is the first to respond to the spring breeze, attracting pink willows, bees flying and butterflies dancing, and the spring scenery is bright.

I like to watch the grass grow in midsummer and the orioles fly. Under the caress of the hot sunshine, the grass releases all the beauty in life. The boundless green field makes the blooming flowers of all colors look bright and attractive. Wow, the blue sky has also become lower in the field of vision, as if bending down and condescending to get close to the grass.

The grass at this time is the biggest and softest new bed, tempting us to hand over our bodies to them with great comfort, without anxiety or worries, surrounded by green grass, Have the most relaxing dream.

When we close our eyes, the aroma of green grass under the sun surrounds our sense of smell. What a warm and pleasant fragrance it is. It is not as strong as various floral fragrances, nor as elegant as famous brand perfumes. It is the fragrance of ripe rice, the fragrance of cow and goat milk, and the original fragrance of nature. , is the smell of the earth, the smell of my mother’s arms.

Yes, Xiaocao, you were originally the main food for cattle, horses and sheep. Through them, you transformed into white milk, delicious meat, warm fur, and galloping power, supporting a nation and country.

The sky is clear, the fields are vast, and cattle and sheep are visible in the windblown grass. In the dimness of time, it seems to see a generation of heroes, Genghis Khan, whipping up his horse and commanding thousands of cavalry, sweeping across the Eurasian continent, invincible. The grass created an unprecedented horseback hero.

The grass grows in the original land, withering and growing every year. Wildfires never burn out, but spring breezes blow them again. Flexible grass, what are you? Is it our countless humble and small lives? We are ordinary grassroots people, but we can also describe spring and dress the earth. When we unite with weak lives, we can also change the environment and create the world.

That familiar song sounded melodiously in my heart: There is no fragrance of flowers/No height of trees/I am a grass that no one knows/Never lonely/Never worried/Look My friends are all over the world...

Reference: Under the Banyan Tree

*In the lonely winter, there is a monotonous yellow color everywhere. There was desolation everywhere, and even the bright and clear river in the past had lost its luster, and it was hiding under the ice and sleeping. There is a mother and daughter, exuding the warm sunshine. Below, the mother is combing her daughter's hair. She smoothed her hair gently. And the gentle strands are braided into braids. There was a smile written all over her face, and it seemed that the love in her heart could never be contained and overflowed to her mouth. It flows to the corner of the eyes and spins into long. Braids. The sun kissed the long hair, which seemed to be sprinkled with gold powder, shining with an erratic brilliance. The daughter snuggled in her mother's arms obediently, kept talking, and made her mother smile knowingly from time to time. The sweet affection melted the coldness of winter, and made the bleak winter scenery spin out with the beauty of spring.

*It started to snow in the evening, and then it didn’t stop all night. Snowflakes fell softly on the black and mottled beehives. The bees are sleeping. Inside the delicate hexagonal honeycomb, it looks like a secret letter sealed with wax. Or like refined particles of pure gold, treasured by a rich king. In fact, it is more valuable than gold, because bees are living creatures and have life.

Their dreams are the sweetest in the world. The milkvetch and rapeseed flowers in the south, and the sophora japonica, jujube flower, and mountain vitex in the north have withered and bloomed again. But I don’t know if there will be any trace of snow in the bustling dreamland tonight. If a lovely bee wakes up quietly to the sound of snow, it will smell a scent from the sky, holy and magical. It's a pity that no one is lucky enough to recover. The flowers of the world have exhausted them.

*In the years of poverty, people can also feel some profound happiness, like I often remember to add a bowl of hot white rice. Pour a spoonful of lard and a spoonful of soy sauce, sit in front of the "huding" (the stone steps of the hall door) and savor the aroma of lard rice. Every grain of rice is full of the aroma of happiness.

The happiness of life does not lie in one’s environment, one’s status, or the material things one can enjoy, but in how one’s soul corresponds to life. Therefore, happiness is not determined by external things. The poor have their own happiness, the rich have their own happiness, the powerful and powerful have their own happiness, and the humble have their own happiness. In life, everyone laughs and tears; in life, everyone has happiness and sorrow. This is the true appearance of the human world.

*When love shines through the cold heart like bright sunshine, we will find that love itself is a wave of trembling strings, a dispersion of floral fragrance, lasting, warm, and extending. And people. From one hand to another, from one person to another. This is the warmth that emanates from the depths of the lover's soul. It awakens a line of tired footsteps in the spiritual world and a heart that has been indifferent. Then, the person who has received love will light a match in his heart. A warmth. To illuminate another heart, even though it is so weak sometimes.

*If you are just a drop of water, you reflect the colorful rays of the sun, allowing Xianzi to see the most beautiful colors in the world. How important you are to the children.

No matter how small and humble you are. You can also compose the fairy tale of life and create the miracle of life in your own world. Maybe. It is because of you that the world has added color. You have to bravely say to yourself: "I am important, I am just a scenery."

*Smile. To sing the song of life. Tears should be shed for the sorrow of others; kindness should be shed for kind hearts; sympathy should be given to the poverty of the poor; care should be used to warm the desolation of the widowed and lonely.

*Death, disease, injury, injustice...these have already existed. Moreover, dramas in their name are being performed in this world all the time. Some sad or indignant stories once made us cry with sadness, but were soon forgotten; some ugly phenomena. It once filled us with righteous indignation, but soon gave way to something else exciting. All of this is just because they happened to others and were too far away from "my world"; our feelings cooled in the air. Solidified, fallen!&nbs

1 Above the twists and turns of the lotus pond, you can see the fields of leaves. The leaves are high out of the water, like the skirts of a graceful dancer. Among the layers of leaves, white flowers are dotted here and there, some are blooming gracefully, and some are holding their petals shyly; just like individual bright pearls, like stars in the blue sky, and like flowers just emerging from the bath. beauty. The breeze passed by, bringing wisps of fragrance, like the faint singing from a tall building in the distance. At that time, the leaves and flowers also trembled slightly, like lightning, which immediately spread across the lotus pond. The leaves were densely packed side by side, and there seemed to be a ripple of solid blue. Under the leaves are veins of running water, which are covered and some colors cannot be seen; but the leaves are even more beautiful.

The moonlight is like flowing water, quietly flowing on this leaf and flower. Thin green mist floats in the lotus pond. The leaves and flowers seem to have been washed in milk; they are also like a dream wrapped in a veil. Although it was a full moon, there was a thin layer of clouds in the sky, so it couldn't shine brightly; but I thought this was just the right thing - a sound sleep is essential, but a nap also has its own flavor. The moonlight shines through the trees, and the dense bushes high up cast jagged and mottled black shadows, as steep as ghosts; the sparse shadows of the curved willows seem to be painted on lotus leaves. The moonlight in the pond is not uniform; but the light and shadow have a harmonious melody, like the famous music played on the Buddhist bell.

On all sides of the lotus pond, far and near, there are trees high and low, among which willows are the most numerous. These trees surrounded a lotus pond; only a few gaps were left on the side of the path, as if they were specially left for the moonlight.

The color of the trees is gloomy, and at first glance they look like a cloud of smoke; but the beauty of the willows can also be distinguished in the smoke. Faintly looming above the treetops are distant mountains, just a general outline. There are one or two street lights leaking through the cracks in the trees, looking listless like sleepy eyes. The liveliest sounds at this time were the cicadas chirruping on the trees and the frogs croaking in the water; but the excitement was theirs and I enjoyed nothing.

2 I often think of you, my friend.

You are in that distant city, that distant and unfamiliar city to me, that city that I cannot overlook even if I stand on the top of a mountain.

I think of you often, my friend.

When I was in this remote mountain village, I once released a thousand paper cranes and folded 10,000 willows. Although I know that even the wings of an eagle cannot fly to your city.

Of course, my dream feet tread on the stars and moonlight every night, and cross thousands of rivers and mountains every day.

My friend, I will see you again.

But my friend, I want to ask your forgiveness, because I have brought you nothing but warm and strong arms; I have brought you nothing but the unfamiliar spring scenery of thousands of mountains.

3 No matter how despicable your life is, you have to face it and live it, don't avoid it, let alone curse it with bad words. It's not as bad as you are. When you are the richest, you appear to be the poorest. People who love to find shortcomings will find them even in heaven. You have to love your life despite its poverty. Even in a workhouse you have moments of joy, joy, and glory. The setting sun reflected on the windows of the almshouse was as bright as on the windows of a rich man's house; in front of the door, the snow melted in early spring. I only see that a calm person can live as contentedly and as happily thinking there as in a palace. It seems to me that the poor in the towns tend to lead the most independent and unruly lives. Maybe because they are great, they deserve it. Most people think that they are detached and do not rely on towns to support them; but in fact they often use unfair means to deal with life. They are not detached at all, but rather dishonorable. Treat poverty like a flower in the garden and cultivate it like a saint! Don't bother yourself with new tricks, whether it's new friends or new clothes. Find the old one and go back there. Nothing remains the same, we are the ones changing. You can sell your clothes, but keep your thoughts.

4 The dim light of the morning dimmed the stars on the horizon. At the last moment, the stars are still telling us the dream of last night in the distance, comforting those who are about to wake up and those who have already woken up and are about to face loneliness. The stars tell us what tranquility is, what fantasy is, what romance is...

Am I the first person to wake up and say goodbye to Chen? I hope so, but I hope not, because I long to have a quiet conversation with the stars and say some touching words hidden in my heart, but at the same time, who of us doesn’t long for the gratifying bosom friend? Wouldn’t it be better to say goodbye to the stars with them?

Chen is about to go away, and he will reach the other shore far away from us. My dear friends and I will see him off together, in the mist of the sky, in the dreamlike thinking... None of us are sad, except That's a touch of sentimentality, because we all know that there is another world on the other side of the world.

5 Give a bean-like light to the traveler who is on his way

Give a greeting from home to the wandering wanderer

Give a cup to those who are frustrated on the journey The wine that soothes sorrow

Gives those who seek the church a ladder to climb

Gives those who have gone through all the vicissitudes of life a warm platform

Gives those who explore life A teahouse for confused people to talk to

A place for newborn calves to fight

A stage for development for those who have just ventured into the world

For the masculine man Bashan Yeyu Elegance

Give the feminine lady the elegance of crossing a lonely boat

Give the vulgar the elegance of spring and snow

Give the elegant the vulgarity of the lower class

The one who casts the net receives thousands of taels of seafood

The one who casts the net receives ten thousand taels of grain

6

As soon as he raises his head, the stars in the sky are startled to disappear.

One pot of wine can make the whole world drunk.

If the continuous green waves of the bamboo forest make people feel relaxed and happy, and the clear and shallow water in the south of the Yangtze River makes people nostalgic for going back and forth, then facing the ups and downs of the Kunlun Mountains, we can only describe it as shocking and majestic

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Kunlun has attracted Buddhist and Taoist practitioners since ancient times to build temples and temples here, cultivate their character, and preach scriptures and sermons. The forest here is deep and ancient, and the scenery is beautiful. At the turn of spring and summer, the mountains are full of green trees and flowers, which is even more unique.

In the world of chaos, the artists perfectly captured the magnificent scenery of Kunlun: it was almost dusk, the sun hung slanting in the west, and the undulating Kunlun Mountains were like a python. Wearing a golden coat, she is surprisingly beautiful. Surrounded by mountains, there is a beautiful lake with clear wind, white sand, and thousands of blue waves hanging in the sky. The snow-capped peaks in the distance, the colorful clouds stretching freely in the sky, and the swans passing by the lake form shadowy reflections in the lake, making this mountain holy lake even more lonely, spacious, poetic, picturesque, and dreamlike. , such as a virgin's bright eyes are charming.

Heart Spring Ding Dong

Everyone has a clear spring in his heart, which can wash your soul and nourish your life. It is only because of the trivial and complicated daily life that her beautiful voice has been obscured and her clarity has been obscured.

The night is quiet and the sounds of nature are silent. At this moment, you can take off your heavy mask, tear down the fence in your heart, and truly look at yourself. In the depths of your life, you can finally hear a leisurely crisp sound. This is a true, kind and beautiful poem. Like sweet rain, like spring breeze, gentle, slow and timeless.

The moon disappears and the stars appear, the dew is heavy and the wind is light. At this time, you can face your naked conscience and step out of the worldly box. At the height of your soul, you can finally feel an inevitable rhythm. This is a true, kind and beautiful song! Like the bright moon, like the autumn sun, indifferent and peaceful.

You are traveling against the wind, and every time you look back at the bumps and mud behind you, one journey after another, your heart will suddenly surge... Finally, I realized: life does not believe in tears, and failure does not. Doesn’t mean to kill success! There is no eternal luck in the world that will make you forever complacent, and there is no eternal misfortune in the world that will make you miserable forever?

The glory of life is not to reject the ordinary, but to be mediocre! So when you are proud of the spring breeze, think more about it, as long as you don’t betray the original intention of beauty; when you are embarrassed and frustrated, have more longing, as long as you don’t fabricate bitter dreams that you can’t wake up from!

If you use the fountain of your heart to extinguish jealousy like fire, and use the fountain of your heart to wash away the vanity like dust, your life will be infinitely relaxed. The whispering heart spring clearly tells you: the human heart is not as sinister as you imagine, and life is not as bleak and heavy as you exaggerate!

Stay away from the despicable strife, avoid the worldly disputes, get close to Ding Dong’s heart spring, listen to the heart spring Ding Dong...

Relive a beautiful mood; soothe a tired heart The soul; looking back on a lonely life.

Listen to the spring of your heart and let your thoughts go deeper and purer; listen to the spring of your heart and make your life richer and more vivid.

You are so insignificant and look down upon. But every time I see you emerging from cracks in walls, rubble, roofs, or even hard stone cracks, I can't help but be impressed by your tenacious vitality and express my heartfelt admiration.

You are the representative of tenacious vitality among green plants. In the face of the test of nature, you have always maintained the unyielding attitude of a strong person. No matter fire, flood, frost or drought, they will not make you surrender in the slightest.

What particularly makes me admire is that you are consistent, persevering and growing tenaciously regardless of the pros and cons of the environment. In that scorching desert, your unyielding figure can always be seen, either as a plant or a clump. Even though the water there is as precious as oil, you have always been strong and developed downwards. Your slender roots penetrated into the ground until you found precious water source. The vitality of weeds can be said to be very strong! The will of the weeds is even stronger! On the snow-capped mountains, you are growing tenaciously, facing the biting cold wind and resisting the extreme cold. When the spring breeze blew the snow down the mountain, you sprouted a few new green shoots.

You are growing like this over and over again, unyieldingly. Although you do not have the heroic appearance of green pines, the weeping willows, the splendor of peaches and plums, and the fragrance of orchids, you are full of the vitality of nature, and you have taken root deeply in my heart!

I praise grass, and I want to praise those with strong will even louder!

Half of the yellow leaves fell, and I heard a sound of withering life.

Yes, the geese are flying south again, only dead branches are left on the tree branches, the springs are gradually drying up, and the chill is coming quietly. All these tell me that winter is here.

In my opinion, winter is the least romantic season, especially the winter in the south. It cannot see the snow-covered snow in the north; nor can it see the thousands of miles of desert and silence in the west. human voice. Winter in the South is always just a dull color. It was very cold, but there was no trace of moisture. The coldness soaked into the bone marrow seemed to take away all the warmth from the body, leaving only loose cold clumps like dry wadding stuffed between the chest and lungs. In such a season, people's thinking will be frozen, and even emotions and romance will be thrown away in an instant. In such a situation, it is difficult to have a good interest. Even if you occasionally have a wish, it will be quickly thrown into the corner of memory.

Standing outdoors, I let out a gentle sigh. A cloud of white mist curled up into the sky, wrapped in warmth. It stretched in mid-air, and became dense. After a while, it merged into the dry and cold air. The little hope that had just been ignited was shattered, disappearing quietly and calmly, as if it had never been there before, and there was such a special moisture in it. The small shu grows into a big tree, and in winter it becomes an old tree. The old branches are intertwined and only a few sparse leaves are dotted with traces of life. The bark of the tree is slightly browned, as if it has been roasted on the fire for a long time. It has lost its vitality due to suffering, and it is half-curled as if it will fall to the ground at any time.

The lotus pond, which was filled with flowers and leaves in the summer, now has only dead tubes and fragments of leaves left. The charm of holding dew in one's mouth has long since disappeared. The cold wind is gently swaying, and the withered leaves seem to whisper about the beauty of the past, and they seem to be weeping softly and secretly about their decline now. If there is another cold rain, it will make the flowers fall even more, which is in line with Li Yishan's mood of leaving the lotuses to listen to the sound of rain.

The mountains in the south have never been as tall and majestic as those in the north. In winter, they lose their former luster, leaving behind a slightly gray figure standing quietly between the sky and the earth. Keep a silence. If there is a heavy snowfall in the north and the mountains are covered with a layer of vast white, it will be a majestic and beautiful picture, with new hope gestating among the towering awns. It's a pity that there is no snow in the south. The half-spreading hills like mounds are dotted here and there on the vast Jianghan Plain. Only the green shadows of pines and cypresses are left in the mountains, but the green is like a layer of frost, light green. There was a faint hint of greenish gray in the middle. From a distance, it seems to be covered by flying dust.

Standing by the river, I realized that the natural chasm in the past was now only a narrow chain of gray. The riverside where the waves lapped thousands of rocks in the past was now calm. The river water seemed to be frozen, even the flow speed of Dongzhu seemed to have been stopped, and everything seemed dead.

Yes, winter in the south can only be described as dead silence, with no trace of life in sight. There is only a single gray mist between heaven and earth. This depressed atmosphere permeates all things, draining their vitality bit by bit.

When I am here, I can only place my feelings in front of the window and send a petal of fragrance from a distance, hoping that a trace of new green will break through the ground and send the hope of spring.

Early Winter Moon

Autumn is still strong, and suddenly it is early winter, and the moon also brings the autumn warmth into the winter night sky.

It got dark early. After dinner, I went back to the dormitory in the dark. After crossing the mountain, I suddenly saw the orange and bright early winter moon over the southwest hillside. It was low and full, huge and fresh, and I felt a beautiful and friendly feeling. From the bottom of my heart. In the night, the dark peaks are scattered in a row, and as far as the field of vision, a ridge stretches across the sky and meets the sunset; beside the fading glow, the silhouettes of the mountains are like light ink paintings, and the outlines of nearby mountains are like thick ink; the slopes of the hillsides Towards the southwest exit, the mountains open up rapidly, with undulating peaks and ridges, like a black wave, majestic under the melting moonlight; the moonlight above the hillside and nearby mountains and rivers under the moon is beautiful, giving people a sense of beauty that this month is dedicated to this place. This moonlight mountain scenery is so beautiful! Looking at the bright moon, it seems that I have forgotten my own existence, leaving only a wisp of beautiful emotions, reflected in the moonlight.

Walking alone in the moonlight, I have forgotten all the things I had to think about or even worry about during the day. However, some of the things I had no time to care about during the day or even had long forgotten, I will remember clearly. Such beautiful moonlight will make the treasures deep in the soul bloom, and even pain will become beautiful. But the moonlight makes me have nothing to worry about, my body and mind are relaxed, and my breathing becomes light and even, making it difficult to notice. I am like a fish that swims into the clear water to "steal the clearness", floating in the moonlight, sucking the moonlight, absorbing the clear brilliance, mooring or wandering, mesmerized.

The orange moon, the orange light, and the gentle frost floating in the orange light.

In the clear night sky, I seem to feel the flow of moonlight, feel the rhythm of moonlight, and realize the interdependence of human emotions and the fluctuation of moonlight; under this soft and beautiful moonlight, as long as I concentrate and get emotional, I seem to be able to Hearing the melodious and graceful "Butterfly Lovers" and seeing the elegant and dreamlike "Swan Lake"... Could it be that the birth of these works also experienced the gestation of the moonlight, and the author's inspiration was also nourished and watered by the moonlight? Otherwise, how could these beautiful things be restored in the moonlight?

The mountains pillowed and cuddled up against each other, sleeping peacefully in the hazy moonlight. I never expected that the mountains I had passed and seen over and over again during the day would be recreated by the moonlight and look like a fairyland. The trees on the mountain crowded together and hugged each other, falling asleep. The tall and whirling crowns of pine trees and other trees are like umbrellas, clouds and catkins, like splash-ink paintings in the dark night. The mountains are breathing, the trees are breathing, the air is breathing, the night is breathing... If you gaze now, you can see the end of the world; if you listen now, you can hear the ends of the sea. The one who listens and sees is neither the ears nor the eyes, but the heart, with the help of the moonlit night.

The moonlight is like an orange and indifferent liquid, and the mountains and rivers are immersed in the moonlight, as peaceful as heaven. Alone under the moonlight, a peaceful and peaceful soul accepts the wise examination of the moonlight. Life is beautiful, and the human soul should also be beautiful. What we do should be worthy of this beautiful world, worthy of this world. Beautiful moonlight; only beautiful souls can shine into the beautiful moonlight. Only people with beautiful souls dare to face this beautiful moonlight quietly alone and have peace of mind.

Thanks for life and thanks for the gift of nature. My boat of life has abandoned the noise, pollution and crowding, docked in this moonlight, and encountered this bright and dream-like scenery. I was so intoxicated by the moonlight that I even forgot when and how I entered the moonlight, and I never thought about walking out of the moonlight and this peaceful and pleasant dreamland.

In the long river of time, we only have our own ray of moonlight. If we don’t cherish it, we will suffer a lot and everything will be wasted. Don’t you see, this month has come from ancient times, experienced vicissitudes of life, experienced rise and fall, sent the wind and waves through the ages, and watched the flowers bloom and fall... The King’s Moon, the Frost Morning Moon, the Guanshan Moon, and the Red Wisp Moon are all gone! The mountains and rivers are silent, and I fall into a deep dream; people do not hesitate to see the moonlight for themselves, how should we grasp this ray of moonlight? The early winter moon hangs high in silence, and the beauty is like washing.

Winter at Baima Lake

In my career of more than 40 years, the most profound experience of winter people’s customs was when I immigrated to China ten years ago. Over the years, Baima Lake has become a small village. When I moved there, it was still a wilderness. The new building of Chunhui Middle School stands tall on that side of the lake. At the foot of the mountain on this side of the lake are several small new bungalows. , Liu Junxinru and I live together. Besides, there is no human habitation within two or three miles. In the eleventh month of the lunar calendar, the family moved to Xia Dian from the bustling Hangzhou to this desolate mountain wilderness, as if they were immersed in the extreme zone.

The wind there is almost daily, whistling like a tiger roaring. Although the house is newly built, its structure is extremely rough. The wind comes from the cracks in the doors and windows, and is extremely sharp, tearing the cracks in the door. The gaps in the window were thickly papered, but there was still penetration through the cracks. When I had a bad blow, I would close the door before midnight. After dinner, the whole family would fall asleep in bed and listen to the cold wind. Excuse me, the surging water of the lake. The small rear pavilion at the back of the mountain can be regarded as my study. It is the room with the least wind in the whole house. I often pull the borscht hat low on my head and work under the foreign lamp until late at night. The pines are roaring, the frosty moon is outside the window, and the hungry rats are scurrying on the dust. At such times, I deeply feel the desolate poetic taste. I often scratch the ashes alone, refuse to sleep, and imitate myself like a landscape painting. The characters in it have all kinds of ethereal reveries.

Now Baima Lake covers the whole area from the top to the bottom. When the sun is shining, as long as the wind doesn't blow, it's really not as warm as winter. The whole family sat in the courtyard to soak up the sun, and even ate lunch outside. Just like summer dinner, they would move their chairs and stools wherever the sun was shining. Suddenly a cold wind came, so they had to bring their own chairs as if they were fleeing. Shi fled into the room and hurriedly closed the door. On a normal day, the wind would come in the afternoon or towards dusk and stop in the middle of the night. As for the strong wind and cold, it roared all day and night and took two or three days to stop. During the coldest days, the muddy ground looked as pale as the Shuimen River, the mountains turned purple and dull due to the cold, and the lake waves turned dark blue.

Snowy fields are something I never hate. On snowy days, the indoors are extremely bright and I almost don’t need to light a lamp at night. The snow in the distant mountains is enough for me to watch for half a month, just by raising my head. Viewed from the window.

But after all, in the south, it only snows once or twice every winter. Almost all the winter flavor I experience there comes from the wind. The reason why Baima Lake is so windy can be said to be geographical. The lake is surrounded by mountains, but there is a gap of half a mile wide in the north. It seems that the mouth of the bag is deliberately opened to welcome the wind. The landscape of Baima Lake is not far different from ordinary scenery, but the wind is different from other places. Everyone who has been there knows how windy and strong it is. Wind has been an important factor in the feeling of winter since ancient times, and the wind in Baima Lake is particularly special.

Now, the family has been living in Shanghai for many days. Occasionally, when they hear the sound of wind in the dead of night, everyone will mention Baima Lake and say, "I don't know how strong the wind is blowing at Baima Lake tonight!"

The romantic feeling of bathing in the sun in early winter

After being away from my former residence for a month or two, once I returned, the first thing I felt strange when I sat at the desk under the south window was the sunlight on the small half desk . It turns out that summer has gone, autumn is coming to an end, and early winter has just arrived. The sun outside the window has already tilted south with the equinox.

I leaned the chair against the edge of the window and sat reading with my back to the window. The sun shone on my upper body. Instead of being annoying like a month or two ago, it made me feel warm and comfortable. The sun, the mother of all life, seems to be pouring a kind of milk that cures diseases, prolongs life, and revives the dead into my body through its rays.

I covered my head and thought: I was surprised at how I felt. Why did it suddenly change like this? The evil of yesterday has become the joy of today; the abandonment of yesterday has become the pursuit of today; the hatred of yesterday has become the favor of today. He opened his eyes and saw the fan abandoned on the high pavilion, and was surprised again. What you loved the day before has become what you hate today; what you wanted the day before has become what you reject today; what you loved the day before has become what you hate today. Suddenly he laughed to himself: "Summer is terrible, winter is lovely", and "The fan is abandoned" are ancient famous sayings. Everyone knows it, so why should it be surprising? Then my reason gave in. But my feelings still refused to give in. I felt that during this transitional period, there was a strange feeling that was enough to surprise me. This is like the evening time when the sun has set but the sky is not completely dark yet: we can still feel day and night at the same time. It's like boarding a boat with one foot already on board and one foot still on the shore: we can still feel the land, and at the same time we can already feel the water. We all know that there is day at night, and we all know that there is land on the boat, but it is just "knowing", not "real feeling". I have been shrouded in the early winter sunlight under the south window for a long time, and sweat breaks out from my body, gradually moistening my shirt. At this moment, the "real feeling" of bathing in the sun and the "real feeling" of waving a fan were mixed in my body. Isn't this an amazing experience?

So I simply threw away the book and lay on the wicker chair in the corner. Using this mixed sense of reality, I looked around the room and felt that many things had changed drastically. Some things have improved: like this room, I often find it too small in the summer and open all the windows and doors. It is not enough, and I almost want to tear down the walls. But now it suddenly gets bigger, very big! Soon it will be separated by screens. Another example is the hot water kettle on the table. It was once banished to the corner of the cupboard by the teapot, but now it stands in front of you like a monument. When the quilt was dried in the hot sun, everyone thought it was stupid and thick. Now when it is spread on the bed, it suddenly looks nice and looks thinner. I once wanted to sell the sofa and chairs, but fortunately no one bought them. I once wanted to take off the black cat's leather robe, but now I envy it. On the contrary, some things have become bad: like the wind. In the past, when people encountered it, they said "Happy!" and welcomed it in. Now I gradually reject it, and soon I will have to guard against it as much as I guard against thieves. Another example is a bamboo couch, which was once treasured by everyone and was a great honor for a while. Now no one cares about it, it is haggard and lifeless. There is a soda advertisement on the wall. On the corner is a large bottle of soda and a glass overflowing with white foam, and below is a picture of sea bathing. I used to get excited when I saw the soda picture, and I wished I could be the person in the picture when I saw the sea bathing picture. Now this picture almost makes me shiver. The naked doll sat on the small bookshelf by the window. I used to think it was too freehand, but now I look at it and it looks pitiful. A plaster model standing statue of a famous ancient Greek sculpture, with its skirt pulled down to its thighs, stands high and independent on a flower pot stand in the air. I saw a smile on her face in the summer, but these days I suddenly felt a frown on her face, as if she was lamenting that she had lost two arms and could not pull up her skirt to keep out the cold.

In fact, how can things change their appearance? It was my own feelings that rebelled. How can feelings be rebellious? Nature taught it. How serious the command of nature is: you cannot help but love the wind in summer, and you cannot help but love the sun in winter.

How funny is the command of nature: in summer you must praise what winter curses, and in winter you must curse what summer praises!

Life also has winter and summer. Childhood is like summer and adulthood is like winter; or youth is like summer and elder is like winter. In the winter and summer of life, nature often makes people's senses rebel, and its orders can be so serious and yet so funny.