Prose after that day

You have distant mountains, and I have light shadows.

That day, I resigned again.

Walk out of the light rail station with full self-blame and suspicion. It was another fluke that the car parked on the side of the road before entering the station in the morning was not given a ticket.

The dark day suddenly lit up when I went out. Strong sunlight tore the clouds, pouring down from the space between tall buildings, from the gaps between leaves and from all over the world. I looked up and put my whole face in the sun, and my inner haze seemed to evaporate instantly.

Winter trees that haven't sprouted on the distant hillside are set against the blue sky, because the sun is particularly eye-catching. I have always been fascinated by the bleak shape and light branches of trees in winter, especially the pictures of trees that flash by the window, and often regret that I can't freeze.

That day, I stopped and took out my cell phone.

In view of the aesthetic feeling of the composition, I only took a part of the humanoid roof and left a word "goods" under the eaves in the picture. Off screen, the word "product" is preceded by the word "waste".

Subconsciously, I deliberately avoided the word "waste". Because from morning till now, I have been thinking about myself, is it related to that word!

Willy Ronnies, a French independent news photographer and famous photographer of The Little Boy in Paris, published a book "That Day". Every article in the book begins with "that day" and describes the story behind every photo he took. In the story, we can not only see the reason and process of his shooting, but also see the breath and artistic conception of the characters in time and light. He fixed precious moments in eternity.

That day was also a day in Koharu.

From my photo library, I found photos taken several years ago, just when I resigned, at home, looking for "that day". There is also bright sunshine in the book. On that day, the temperature of the sun seemed to be perceived from the picture. That day was also a day in Koharu.

From the picture, I took it with a SLR and didn't bother to use my mobile phone. Moreover, there are no lazy words-

The first time I saw this famous photo was more than 20 years ago, and my heart ached at that time.

The most important witness in the 20th century, the French humanist photographer Willy Ronnies, said: My photo is my self-portrait.

"On that day, in order to shoot the little boy in Paris, the little boy who was reprinted by the media many times in the future and eventually became my' selfie', I slightly deviated from my usual photography style. I mean, I made some minor changes to the scene. " Willie began to tell short stories of his works.

At noon that day, Willie met a little boy who lined up with his grandmother to buy bread. With grandma's permission, Willie let the little boy run for a few meters with his baguette, "running lively and calmly" and "running back and forth three times before taking this best photo."

We were lucky enough to witness this lovely little boy in Paris, and his happiness touched the whole world.

The master not only took wonderful photos, but also told exciting stories in each photo. He is a genius at telling stories.

I put this book in my carry-on bag. The size is very comfortable and it feels quite comfortable. I am satisfied with it at a glance, and I am completely conquered when I turn it over.

When Xiao Wang came home, I couldn't wait to hold the book in front of him. He held the book and exclaimed, "Wow, his baby bought such long fried dough sticks!" " "

Looking at the words written that day and the photos taken that day, there is a sense of pleasure to reach the spiritual wilderness. What the eyes search for in ordinary life and what the heart feels are always collected with the help of some carriers. From time to time, there is no mistake, no regret and no sigh.

Whether I am on the job or resigning, I have not actually "abandoned".

Write the above paragraph, name it "that day" and post it at your public address. Unexpectedly, I received the highest award so far, and one of them turned out to be grandma Xiao Wang's reward.

Huahua, the teacher of Dear Life freelance writing camp, also rewarded the manuscript fee and commented that "the angle that day was great".

"That day" seems to have some special meaning to me. After that day, every day, 1, 440 minutes, 86400 seconds, every minute is like playing drums.

The books I read recently are all piled up on the sofa: Shadows in the Far Mountains, Wild Heart, Living a Writer's Life, The Wind in the Kitchen, The Writer's Talk ... Driving on the road, headphones are playing back the writing process of litchi micro-class.

Find the simple book, register it soon, and move away from the office soon. Write word for word in this happy land, honestly and wholeheartedly, and bid farewell to the habitual mumbling and sitcom before "that day"