A fragment describing the snow scene of the West Lake

People who never talk about the beauty of the West Lake usually focus on spring and summer; And tourists from all over the world have also increased at this time-the number of tourists in autumn has been temporarily reduced, and it is even rarer after winter, which is naturally for a reason. Between spring and summer, the temperature is warm, the scenery on the lake is timely, or "miscellaneous peanut trees, birds around", or "gulls and herons flying in the sunshine bath, blowing lotus wind to recommend cool", all in order to teach people not to forget their feelings as soon as possible. On this festival, I traveled to and from the lake, intoxicated with softness and fragrance.

Who says it shouldn't be fun? But spring flowers are lovely, and autumn moon should also like them. The smoke scene at four o'clock is different, and real appreciators can have their own tastes; However, this is not easy to popularize to ordinary people. Mr. Gao Shen's father once told us: "If you can be open-minded, broad-minded, and … take a look at the scenery and understand it, it will be really interesting." This is what predecessors said more than experience.

Since the Song Dynasty, there have been so-called "Ten Scenes of West Lake" and "Ten Scenes of Qiantang" in Pingzhang. Although the names "Broken Bridge Snow" and "Gushan Snow" have appeared in it, I'm afraid not many people will really appreciate this cold scenery. Among the authors of Enjoy the Four Seasons, about 78% talk about snow scenes, and their titles include Snow Ji's Plan to Roam in Xun Mei, Snow Ji at the Peak of Sanmao Mountain, Snow Playing on Xixi Road, Snow Sweeping, Tea Making and Painting Playing, and Listening to Songs from Mountain Windows. Most of them are about scenery. After reading it, I can't help thinking, which is not just the essence of words.

I have been to the snow scene of the West Lake twice: the first time was the third day when it snowed here. Go out before noon/Kloc-0: 00: Take a rickshaw from the school gate to the lake, get off, walk out of Qiantang Gate, cross Bai Causeway, turn into Gushan Road, go west along Gushan, arrive at Xiqiao Bridge, and come back via Avenue: it's not snowy this time, so it's too late to go out. Most of them were covered by Shan Ye, so nothing happened. What I want to elaborate now is the second revisit.

It was 1 24th: I woke up early in the morning, because I felt unexpectedly cold in bed, and I concluded that it snowed last night. Sure enough, as soon as I opened the door, all the tiles on the opposite house turned white, and a small pile of white powder was dotted on the branches and leaves of a osmanthus tree in the courtyard. Looking closely, I think it is bigger than the one that has been paved two or three times now, because although the roof was built in the past, some tile ditches were still black: this day was all white and there were few irregularities. And they are all very thick, about one or two inches high. Although the snow has covered the roof now, it seems that it has nothing to do with osmanthus trees. This time, it was not spared, which is also proof that it snowed more.

As usual, Lao Li got up very late. Sometimes when I come down from two classes, I haven't seen him dressed in his room and ready to go to the office. On this day, I got up and ran to his room. After waking him up, he asked me sleepily, "Old clock, is it snowing outside today?" I answered him, "Not only yes, but also very big." He was suspicious at first, until I opened the white curtain on the window and let him see the roof. "Old Zhong, shall we go to Lingyin to play today?" He said happily. I grunted and went back to my room.

It was about nine o'clock when we got on the bus at the school gate. It's raining and the cold wind is splashing. Looking out from the gaps on both sides of the car curtain, the heights along the road and all the uneven roofs were sprinkled with white flour, like new quilts: most of the dead people in the street turned into snow mud, and the cars ran over them. The chirp noise was mixed with the sound of rubbing the middle crossbar when the wheels turned.

When we arrived at the lake, we changed to a bus. This route used to be quite lively, but now it's very cold. There are less than ten people in the same car, and I'm afraid less than half of the guests come for sightseeing. When the car passed by Bai Causeway, we looked out and saw the scenery of the inner lake and the outer lake, but it was a misty water vapor, and the opposite mountain peak was just a thin shadow. On the side of Geling and Baoshi Mountain, because of the close distance, you can generally see the snow and trees on the mountain; However, the pagoda with higher status has fallen into a haze. Near the Xiqiao Bridge, I looked back at the lake and saw the dry and bare trunk around the pavilion in the middle of the lake, standing there like a chilling, and I couldn't help thinking of a love story in Tao An's dream memory:

In December in Chongzhen, I lived by the West Lake. It snowed for many days, and the noise of pedestrians and birds in the lake disappeared. It was another good day. I was alone in the boat, holding my clothes and fire, and went to the pavilion in the middle of the lake to see the snow and fog. The sky, clouds, mountains and water are white, and the shadows on the lake are only traces of long banks, but there is a pavilion in the middle of the lake, and there are only two or three people on board. On Pavilion C, there are two people sitting opposite, and a boy's shochu stove is boiling. Seeing Yu Daxie, I said, "How can there be such a person in the lake!" I took Yu to drink together and took French leave and drank three large glasses of white wine. Ask them what their surnames are. They are from Nanjing and are guests in this place. Get off the boat. Zhou Zi murmured, "Don't say" xianggong "is crazy, let alone crazy!" ("Looking at the Lake Pavilion Snow")

I wonder if there is such an idiot's mind crossing Xiqiao Bridge on the lake at the moment, and the car is temporarily driving on the wild road connected by mountains and forests on both sides. All the mountains are piled with thick chunks of snow. Although they can't be spread out as evenly as those on the tile roof, the naive brilliance makes me feel the cold, magnificent and pure of the universe. The snow piled on the branches and leaves of evergreen trees is very different from that piled on dead trees. The former is set off by leaves, and snowflakes pile up in chunks. From a distance, they look like white camellia or water brocade in my hometown. In the latter case, only a small piece of snow can stick to it without falling off, which is absolutely similar to the plum tree that has just blossomed. Actually, I almost made a mistake about the plants on the roadside at first. The semi-yellow or all-red hay on the wild mountain is mostly pressed under the snow mattress with a thickness of two or three inches; Some trees with weak branches also languished and fell down. There are few pedestrians on the road. In the barbarian's house by the roadside, I saw the old man and the boy wearing shabby and heavy clothes and warming themselves around the stove. After reading the simple and pitiful situation, I seem to have temporarily forgotten the turmoil and complexity of our time.

At the gate of Lingyin Mountain, we got off. As soon as I walked in, the air was strange and cold. Not only are there no tourists, but also vendors selling rosary beads, ancient money and Tianzhu chopsticks have disappeared. There is quite deep snow mud on the slate road. Feilai peak is sparsely covered with many snow blocks, cold spring pavilions and other buildings, and densely covered with pure white carpets. A photographer, when we first entered the door, followed closely. Because of Lao Li's happiness, we took two photos next to Lengquan Pavilion.

Curiosity touched me and made me feel dissatisfied with what I saw before, so I went to the deep Taoguang Temple. I walked quietly. Lao Li followed me quietly. This mountain road from Lingyin Temple to Taoguang Temple is actually not very long. But it is deep and the wind is tolerant. The snow here is bigger than anywhere else in the city or on the lake. The snow on the path is about half a foot thick, and the snow on the trees on both sides is thicker than that seen on the road. No one who has visited will forget how tall bamboos are planted on both sides of this road. At this time, most of the branches and leaves of bamboo were covered with snow and hung down. "Enjoy the Four Seasons" Mountain window listens to the snow knocking on the bamboo cloud: "The flying snow is the most elegant among the bamboos; On a cold night in front of the mountain window, sometimes I listen to the snow sprinkling on the bamboo forest, pattering, rustling, and even rustling, and the sound is melodious and clear. " Suddenly the return air was in a hurry, and the bamboo broke, making my oysters cold. We can't enjoy this taste.

Winter was originally a time when tourists were left out in the cold. What's more, it's cold on such a rainy day? So when we ran to buddhist nun. There are no other tourists-we can tell from the footprints on the mountain road when we go up the mountain-and there is a strange expression in the monk's eyes. We ran all the way to the last sea pavilion. There, the stone steps are covered with foam-like snow, and the trees in front of the pavilion are covered with snow, and ice cubes are formed under the snow. There are several camellias next to them, with pink flowers. Some flowers have fallen, half hidden in snowflakes, red and white set each other off, and the colors are bright, which makes us feel flashy, clear and not cold; So, I recalled the beauty of "forget its thin silk sleeves, forget its cold, and lean on the sunset glow and bamboo".

Boarding this pavilion, you can get a close look at the West Lake and overlook Zhejiang and even the ethereal sea on weekdays. But I can't right now. Not far from buddhist nun, mountains, monasteries and bamboo forests are almost invisible, while those farther away are covered by haze.

Lying in an empty room on the wall, Meng Qianshan suddenly recovered.

Ride a bald-tailed donkey to find the snow.

The stone wall is solitary and loose, and there are no birds in the sky.

See distant mountains, cold smoke rises in the forest. (Huangshan Mountain in Snow)

I leaned against the pavilion column and silently chewed the beauty of Yu Yang's five-character poems. Especially in the last two sentences, the Samadhi of the snow scene is even more exposed. But maybe many inexperienced people will laugh at it as tasteless. Real literary appreciation is really not easy!

I was going to be a vegetarian in the monk's room, but I don't know why, so I went to the piedmont restaurant to drink. Old Li Can can't drink too much, so I'm not in the mood to raise a glass alone. There, I put a group of Leng Xue brought down from the mountain road into a glass to mix. The waiter looked at it and said, "This is the top ice cream."

Partly because we couldn't wait for the bus, and partly because we wanted to play more snow scenes, we decided to walk to Yuefen, which is called a boat trip to the lake. Along the way, although I took the old road where the car passed, I couldn't help but feel more meaningful when I watched it on foot. Our shoes and shoes, stepping on an inch or two thick snow mud, frequently make a crisp sound. Sometimes, the snowflakes on the roadside branches suddenly fall down and stick to our coats, just as the predecessors said, "Jade turns into ice and wets clothes." The pace of coming back is late, and my horizons are broadened. It seems that there is a dense and mysterious poetry floating in my heart, which makes me feel distant and indifferent. Zheng Mao told people that his poems were in the snow of Baqiao and on the back of the donkey. He really knows how to be cold and interesting.

When we boarded the boat in front of the Wang Yue Temple, it began to snow again. There are no boats in the lake except one of our canoes. Pinghu is deserted, and everything is silent. The ship crossed Xiqiao Bridge and slowly flooded Lixi Lake. The lonely mountain and the opposite mountain, as well as the pavilions and pavilions, all turned white and stood upright in the snow. On the mountain road, I can't see a figure; There are no traces of waterfowl on the lake, only some ripples when snowflakes fall. Liu Zongyuan said, "There are no birds in hundreds of mountains, and there are no footprints in thousands of paths. A boat, a bamboo cloak, an old man fishing in the cold river-snow. " I think if there are fishermen fishing at this time, we can use it to explain the scenery in front of us.

As the ship approached the broken bridge, the snowflakes were even more chaotic. Our coats in the north are almost white and wet. The wind seems to be blowing harder, and my face can't see the direction of the wind. My feet are freezing because my shoes are soaked in snow. At this time, the boat with few words suddenly asked us, "Do you think it's cold here?" We asked him what the reason was. It is said that the snow-capped mountains around Baoshi Mountain are windy. So I silently associated with the scope of knowledge and its acquisition.

It was past three o'clock in the afternoon when we landed at the lake. There is snow everywhere in the park, and some of it has turned into mud. Except for a few boats and other coolies waiting for business, most of the boys and girls, ladies and gentlemen who come and go comfortably here every day hide in the "golden tent" and "drink mutton wine at a low price"-at least by the fire with red flames, accompany their families or close friends and talk about their idle days without any worries.

Written at the end of January, 18th year.

(Zhong Jingwen (1903-), formerly known as Zhong Tanzong. Guangdong Haifeng people. He devoted his life to the research and creation of education, folk literature and folklore, and made great contributions. He is a famous folklorist, folk writer and modern prose writer in China. )