Chapter 31 autumn autumn

The morning glory vines all over the mountain were undulating, and the small purple waves hit my window before they suddenly stopped. The sunlight was blindingly white, like tin, like so many shiny metals.Which wise ancients remembered that wood resembles spring and gold resembles autumn?We like the green of wood, but how can we not admire the brilliant white of metal. By the way, it is this brilliant whiteness, which can be felt even with eyes closed.In the clouds, on the reeds, on the green bamboos all over the mountains, and in the long wind all over the valley, they are pressed down like this.

In our city, the summer is too long, and the autumn colors inevitably appear later.But fall is never to be confused—the season of hard, bright metal.Let us recognize it from the cool pine wind, let us recognize it from the fragrance of newly mowed grass. It is already the twenty-fifth autumn in my life, but I am still so easily excited.As a poet said. "Still superstitious about beauty." Yes, when the fiftieth autumn comes, I am afraid that I will still be so obsessed with beauty. At that time, in Nanjing, I just started to remember some bits and pieces. A beautiful countryside often appeared in the picture. I quietly walked away from the adults and sat alone on the grass. , and many mysterious aesthetic feelings fell into my heart together.I suddenly became confused, and my little heart couldn't bear this excitement.I just picked up a fallen leaf in a daze.The leaves are yellow-brown and curved, like a boat carrying dreams, and there are two beautiful sycamores growing on the ship's side.Every time there was a gust of wind, I shuttled through the rain of fallen leaves, picking up the phoenix trees all over the place.There must be one or two phoenix seeds that I have not picked up on the grass, right?Twenty years have passed, and I seem to be able to hear the distant west wind and the rustling leaves in the wind again.I can still see those boats carrying dreams, sailing in the grassland, sailing in the hope of a seed.

I also remember that at dusk on the small balcony, the end of the line of sight is a row of ancient city walls.In the double bleakness of twilight and autumn, someone often adds the bleakness of a flute.I like this desolate beauty, inexplicably.My little uncle once took me all the way to the side of the city wall. Those mottled stones and overgrown grass moved me indescribably.When I grew up reading Xin Jiaxuan's words, I always felt so familiar with the gloomy and desolate artistic conception. Actually, how could I be familiar with any words?All I am familiar with is the autumn colors of the ancient city of Nanjing.

Later, when I arrived in Liuzhou, the whole city was full of mountains and trees.Walking on the street, there is always the fragrance of orange and pomelo on both sides.There is a mountain in front of the school, and I always feel that it is the one hundred thousand mountains in the geography textbook.In autumn, the mountains are clear and yellowish, and the blue sky looks higher. "Yuanyuan," I asked my companion with great awe. "You said Mr. Gong, who teaches us art, can draw this mountain?" "Yes, he can." "Of course, of course," she shouted eagerly, "it's a pity that he broke his handle while playing basketball recently, otherwise, he would be able to draw all over Liuzhou and the whole world."

There was a long silence. "is that true?" "Really, of course." I looked at her, and then at the mountain, that holy, beautiful, deep autumn mountain. "No, it's impossible." I suddenly said with certainty, "He can't paint, he definitely can't." I don't remember how the debate ended that day.And the girl named Yuanyuan and I have been separated for more than ten years.If I can meet again, I will still insist on that. No one can paint a mountain like that, no one can. Yuanyuan, how about you?Do you admit it now?The year before last, I met a girl named Yuanyuan, and asked her anxiously, but she smiled and said that she could not remember living in Liuzhou.Well, she won't be you.No one can forget Liuzhou, no one can forget the gloomy, heavy, slightly golden, indescribable mountain.

And the days were ended by the west wind, that string of metallic days with joyful jingle sounds.Finally, when people grow up, they can read "Fu of Autumn Sounds" and ride on bicycles, imagining Lu Fangweng's feelings of "listening to the autumn wind with both ears full". Traveling in autumn, as usual, there are glowing memories in the photo album.I still remember that time when I came back from a tired tour and sat on the tour bus. "Which season do you like best?" I asked Zhi. "Autumn." She simply replied, all the beautiful autumn light gathered in her eyes.

I suddenly rejoiced. "Me too, ah, we all are." She told me many autumn stories, stories about mountains and villages.She described to me the small pond where she often slept beside it, and the endless fruits in the forest. The car was walking all the way, and the students got off at the station, and the car was getting more and more empty. "Zhi," I suddenly lowered my head, "When we get old, our life companions get off the bus one by one, and the seats slowly loosen up, what will happen to you?" "I'm going to be very sad," she said sadly. What are we doing?Chih, we just said some silly little girl things, the kind of deep, helpless shaking of the solution.

But, no matter what, the days when we hid in the bushes to study together and talked in our dreams together were beautiful. But now, you are working in the deep mountains in the central part, working like a missionary, loving those simple mountain souls from your heart.We met again at the beginning of this year, and we were still in such good spirits. Sitting in the small ferry, the thin blue mist had not yet lifted from the Danshui River in the morning, and the sound of oars was loud, and you continued your story of the mountains and forests. "Sometimes, I go to a high mountain, alone, and slowly climb over many mountains." You said, "Suddenly, I stopped, and found that the walls are surrounded by mountains! They are all majestic, blue and blue I stood in amazement, ah, how could it be so beautiful!"

I look at you, Zhi, my heart is full of happiness.We have been separated for so many years, and we are all safe, and our dreams are all safe—those high mountains!Do not belong to the dream on the horizon. But now, autumn is very thick and white in our mountains.Occasionally, there will be a burst of autumn rain, and the coldness will strike people. After the rain, there will often be a cold moonlight, which can't help but give birth to a feeling of sadness in autumn.Where are you?The window should also be replaced with a touch of autumn, right?How is autumn suitable for the love of old friends, and how suitable for silvery and bright dreams!

With the wind, the purple waves churned, turning the autumn coolness of a mountain to my heart.I love this season, but I feel so lonely in love. It's not that I don't love the gentleness of spring, it's not that I don't yearn for the heat of summer, it's just that life should be serious, mature, and holy, just like what autumn gives us—but who knows?Who knows?Who appreciates depth? The distant mountains are receding, and the distant land is covered with peaceful blue.And the woody Zhulan nearby is still fragrant, (scent is really a kind of power, it can rule over a large area of ​​land.) Xixiao rushes out from the small cracks, writing in the wilderness a running script that no one understands, it is a poem Xiaoling, twists and turns and bright, is used to describe the pure autumn light.

And my title page is empty, I don't have a small order, but I love autumn with all my piety and awe. May my life be like this, without too many gorgeous spring flowers, without too many floating summer clouds, without noise, without swirling colorful colors, only a piece of quiet and simple white, only the depth and seriousness of mature life, only dreams, like the same red Feng is such an earnest and rich dream. Autumn, the season of hard and bright metal, is something I love dearly.