Love with the river

It's time to talk about this river.

Memories are always mixed When the river in winter appeared in front of me, it was barren, broken, lonely and desolate, like a weath

It's time to talk about this river.

Memories are always mixed When the river in winter appeared in front of me, it was barren, broken, lonely and desolate, like a weather-beaten old friend. When I came back from the vast land, cool thin's sleeves were covered with dust and frost by the north wind. Standing by the river, the leaves are gray-brown, the weeds are yellow, and the bare twigs of the trees point to the deep blue and cold sky, so silent. Or the river in memory? River, do you remember me? Remember that child who lingered around you again and again? Back in time, back in time, stripping away the dust of time, I want to find the original appearance in the river of memory.

Falling in love with a river is like falling in love with an unforgettable person. In the bleak and lonely life, I always remember the initial appearance when I met it, and I remember the surprise and excitement. A certain day, neither early nor late, seems to have waited for you for thousands of years. Everything is an arrangement, not an accident.

The gray curtain of memory unfolds slowly: first, the sunset is like a golden ribbon, projected on the river through the distant trees, sparkling and jumping on the water like silver, and then ripples from the depths of the river bend float into the distance. The details are so clear that I seem to smell the thick water vapor of that day, emitting the fragrance of plants and touching the shallow cold of that autumn night. Then I heard a cry of surprise echoing in the twilight, which was the exclamation of our young and ignorant children at that time. The waves moved along the winding river with the evening breeze, and we followed, with the whistling wind in our ears, passing through the rows of trees by the river until the waves disappeared into the depths of the river. We were disappointed.

You may be surprised at our fuss, but these strange waves are a wonderful existence in our inexperienced eyes. How do they affect young me? I don't know whether the sparkling waves of this ordinary autumn night are engraved in the hearts of the children who surprised me with me, but the river has since flowed into my heart and dissolved into my blood. In fact, in the first time of my life, the river has been flowing there for a long time, nourishing the land on both sides of the strait, feeding me and shining with silver waves in the sunset. In the shadowy narration of adults, one summer, the surging river almost took away my young life, but it never left a mark on my memory. However, on that ordinary evening, the beauty and mystery of this river were deeply planted in my heart like a seed. . I often wonder why the river that has flowed around me for thousands of times only appeared in my life so clearly and profoundly for the first time in that autumn dusk. Not other moments and scenes. Perhaps the river opened a certain mystery of life to me at that moment: those waves that come and go without a trace are like everyone's hysterical dreams, but they are swaying. And the river with the distant waves, but also with the waves of towards the distant, I don't know the trace, all this makes the distance a dream-like color, fascinating and yearning. How many dreams and life codes are hidden in distant places, far away from rivers? This made me see it at first sight. The river in the dark showed me, which awakened my innate sadness and made me feel attached to the river without hesitation. At the same time, I fell in love with the distance and the wandering, always thinking that all my life answers and secrets were hidden in the distance. This river has opened a window for my life. I vaguely know that in addition to life, there should be poetry and distance, as well as dreams and love. This is the first revelation of this river to my life.

Rivers flow alone on the earth, go to Qiu Lai in spring, and flourish and wither in the years. No one knows the origin and destination of a river, its past lives, and it has always existed there. The sky is clear and the running water is clear. Clouds rise from the depths of the river and float away. Occasionally, the wind blows, leaving only a wisp of spray. Birds spread their wings on the water and disappear in a blink of an eye. Once I threw a handful of wild flowers into the river, and the wild flowers were quickly swept away by the current unconsciously. Because of this, the river has an irresistible temptation. But who knows the loneliness of a child? I often run to the desolate wilderness alone. The wind in the distant field blew through my thin and delicate body, and the green bristlegrass swayed in the wind. I looked at the distance disappointedly, thinking about a child's unimportant things. Setaria doesn't know my sadness any more than I know its melancholy. Or a person lying in the open space of the back garden, the sun is golden and the autumn wind is bright. The huge green leaves of paulownia trees almost cover half the sky. I gawk at the dark blue sky, and no one knows that a child's mind is like a flowing cloud.

Only the river accepted me and tolerated a child's irrelevant dreams and sorrows. The loneliness of the river and the loneliness of the children make them naturally close. How lucky it is to meet the river. I really can't imagine how bleak it would be without the reflection of the river in my ignorant initial time.

How many times at dawn or dusk, my little lonely and thin figure walked to the river, and the villages and fields behind me gradually disappeared in the light blue wind and smoke. The troubles that children on earth can't pay attention to have been left behind, and the river has already been waiting for me there. The gentle and cold river wind blows from the depths of the river bend, bringing the exotic fragrance in the far field, which makes me feel melancholy and intoxicated. In spring, the riverside will be full of all kinds of nameless wild flowers, and the stars will appear in the green fields. In the wind, the waves will sway to the distant sky. In autumn, golden leaves set off the sky and rivers. I sit on the grass by the river, or stand under a poplar tree, talking with running water or sharing a trivial worry that belongs only to children. The clear river quietly listens to a child's indifferent mood, or the river beats the bank and makes a low murmur, as if the river is responding to me. How many times, until the tired birds call home and the sunset overflows the golden water, I slowly return home, and my heart is full of warmth. Or walk aimlessly along the river, the river winds on the earth, the earth is changing in a fantastic way, through dense and solid forests, through green Yuan Ye, through strange villages, but it can't reach the end of the river, and the flowing water is flowing into the distance.

Clear and clean tap water is the cleanest thing in the world, and only the sky can compare with it. Clear water can wash away the filth of the world, the dirt of the soul, reflect the soul and make people listen to their inner voice. The river is deep, clear and blue, as if it can hide countless secrets. Just like loving someone, I am surprised to see the sparkling river in autumn. Since then, I have formed an indissoluble bond with the running water around me, and the running water has opened a window for me to talk with life. Those who can't tell the joys and sorrows, that delicate and sensitive heart with nowhere to put it, finally have a place to put it. Facing the running water, I can cry or shout loudly to vent my emotions. This is a secret that a child has never told anyone. It only belongs to the dusty past between a child and a river. It is not so much a river as a lover in my heart. Running water taught me to think. Besides the hustle and bustle and secular life, there is also a quiet place. In the journey of life, the loss and sadness that no one tells often go hand in hand. I often stop, as if there is such a river in my heart, quietly flowing through my barren heart and smoothing my wounds. It taught me to be quiet and listen to the true meaning of life. And nothing in the world is richer and richer than listening to your heart.

Of course, the memory of the river is not always good. Although beautiful things make people want to stay, they are far from the whole of life. In the eyes of simple children, almost every day is the same. Those dear family and things will always be with me. I think this is my eternal life. And the river gave me another answer again and again. Under the calm water, there is death. This river is an abyss full of temptations. People often drown in the river or throw themselves into it. Those once vivid lives turned into stiff bodies in a short time. And that summer, when the little girl was still singing in the shade of the river at dawn, her sparkling eyes reminded me of her appearance. But at noon, when they were fished out of the water, those beautiful big eyes were closed forever. In the mourning of her family, I shed tears for a strange life that has passed away. I stared at the river quietly, but it still meandered quietly into the distance, unchanged, as if the running water had already understood the vicissitudes of the world.

I almost died. That summer afternoon, the river was wide and clear, which made people inexplicably close. I was even moved when that malicious boy invited me to sit in his wooden basin in the water too enthusiastically. The gap between adults makes me shake hands with him at this time, but I don't know that death is approaching me. Behind his smiling face, there is a heart more ferocious than the devil. Children's malice is sometimes more direct and pure. The estrangement and discord between us adults made him lead hatred to innocent me. When the tub floated to the middle of the river, he jumped into the water, swam to the shore and disappeared in an instant, leaving me in the tub surrounded by deep-rooted fears. The river that gave me joy and warmth in those days was like a hell on earth and clear water, as if countless pairs of talons were stretched out. The small wooden basin is rickety and may fall over at any time. I can only cry helplessly and desperately. My cry attracted a crowd of onlookers, but no one helped a helpless child. I even clearly heard some of them give sharp laughter and see twisted smiling faces. Many years later, I still remember the voices of those who gloat, which naturally keeps an invisible gap between me and others. I don't know what kind of face is hidden behind the mask at ordinary times, and I always have deep doubts and uneasiness about human nature. Thank the river for not engulfing me. It was the wind deep in the bend that blew the rickety wooden basin onto the river bank. I was soaked to the skin and shocked. I looked back at the river behind me. This river is a strange place for me. This is about human nature. Apart from the beauty and melancholy of life, it is a cruel and cold life. The sad child is growing up.

This is the love between me and the river. Although this river is not what it used to be, its clear and clean face has long been destroyed in the wind and smoke of time. Over the years, it has been covered by green duckweeds, and the river is full of strange vegetation. I don't know their names. Just like me, I was not a child from the beginning. Wandering in other places for many years, my heart has entered the sea, and the past has gradually become a cloud. But I won't forget the dusty past of a river. The original purity and emotion in life should not be forgotten. Just like those unforgettable things in life, they are all the passwords of my life. I will find my way home along it.

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