Traditional Culture Encyclopedia - Weather forecast - Why does the red-billed gull fly to Kunming every year?

Why does the red-billed gull fly to Kunming every year?

In fact, because of the warm weather in Kunming in winter, all red-billed gulls fly for the winter.

As for the old man, he is an old man who loves seagulls very much. The story that he loves seagulls and protects them is widely circulated.

The old seagull's name is Wu Qingheng, and he is an ordinary Kunming citizen. He is called the old seagull because every autumn, Dianchi Lake in Kunming welcomes a large number of migrating seagulls. At this time, there is always an old man who takes some bread he buys almost every day to care for these beautiful seagulls. The old man is very old, with a wrinkled face, kind eyes and a homemade whitening cloth bag on his shoulder, which is full of food for seagulls. He is very careful and always smiles at the seagulls flying up and down in front of him.

According to the old man, these seagulls are very human. When a seagull is injured, it will scream to tell other seagulls to leave. Once there was a seagull, which was broken by catching tourists. The old man took care of the injured seagull very carefully. From 1992, the old man can see this injured seagull come to Kunming every year, as if the seagull missed the dying old man and flew to Kunming.

Many people come to the park to play, but no one knows the old man's family, only to hear him say that he only has a pension of 308 yuan a month and wants to use half of it to buy food for seagulls. Sometimes because the old man is ill, he spends more money every month and less money to buy things for seagulls, so the old man goes to the restaurant to pick up things lost by others. In his words, there must be poverty in poverty.

The reporter from Yunnan TV station learned about the old man and asked him to tell the story of himself and seagulls. The old man is very excited. Maybe he has been lonely for too long. Looking at the old man's excited and selfless explanation, he felt inexplicably sad. Finally, the reporter and the old man made an appointment to take the reporter to see where the seagull lived in the evening, which was the temporary home of the seagull. When he left, the old man always said goodbye politely, even said a few words of goodbye and thank you, and finally took off his hat and bid farewell to the camera and reporters. Behind that kind of courtesy is actually a person's self-restraint and dignity. At the appointed time the next day, the old man didn't keep the appointment.

A few days later, the reporter suddenly saw the old man. The old man bowed his head and lost his old spirit. He sat on the stone bench by Dianchi Lake, very quiet, but he reached out the bread to the seagulls feebly. The reporter inquired about the old man's condition. The old man's voice is very low. He told reporters calmly that he was ill these days and only drank a bowl of noodles for a few days. After a while, the old man said that he was very tired and wanted to go home and rest. In the sunset, only the old man's staggering back is left.

A few days later, young reporters and friends were very concerned about the old man. After many inquiries, they finally learned about the old man's home. When they walked through the winding alley, they saw the news of the old man's death. I won't know until I ask. The old man's name is Wu Qingheng, and he was a student of National Southwest Associated University in his early years. After the founding of People's Republic of China (PRC), he was persecuted politically. Without his family, the old man was lonely all his life, and seagulls became his only friends in his lonely old age.

Later, people in Kunming gradually learned about the situation of the old seagull, and the Forest Protection Bureau organized a spontaneous donation to create a statue of an old man, leaning against Dianchi Lake and smiling thoughtfully. This is a comfort to the old people. In memory of old Mr Wu Qingheng seagull. If there is an afterlife, I hope he will always smile.

Professor Deng Qiyao wrote an article entitled "The Old Man and Sea Gulls", which was very touching. You can look for it when you are free. The old man and the seagull It's an ordinary winter day. Meet friends and come to Cuihu. Seagulls are flying noisily.

It is easy to recognize the old man among the people feeding seagulls. His back is hunched. He wears a faded and outdated dress, carries a faded blue cloth bag and even uses a big plastic bag to hold bird food. My friend told me that the old man walks more than 20 miles from the suburbs to Cuihu every day just to send food to seagulls and accompany them.

Where there are few people, it is the territory where he feeds seagulls. The old man carefully put the cookie cube on the fence by the lake, stepped back and shouted at the sheep with a pinch of copper. Immediately, a flock of seagulls answered and swept it clean in a few times. The old man walked along the railing and put it down. Seagulls rise and fall according to his rhythm, forming a roaring white and flying into a colorful music score.

In the sound of seagulls, the old man sang something cadently. Listen carefully, and it turns out that intimacy has changed its tone-"one foot", "grey head", "red mouth", "old sand" and "princess" ...

"Have you named the seagull?" I can't help asking

The old man looked back at me and still leaned over the seagulls: "Of course, each one has a name."

"Do you recognize them?" The same white wings are flashing rapidly in the sun, and I doubt whether the old man can see clearly.

"You see, you see! It's Lao Sha with a ring on his foot! " The old man proudly pointed it out to me, and suddenly he shouted at the water, "A foot! Lao Sha! Get up! "

Two seagulls jumped on the water and flew to the old man. One seagull's foot shone with metallic luster, and the other flew over and pecked at the old man's hand. It has only one foot, and it has to flap its wings to keep its balance when it stops. It seems to be a leg, and the old man talks to it kindly while feeding it.

Speaking of seagulls, the old man's eyes came to life at once.

"Seagulls are the most affectionate and cautious. The year before last, there was a seagull. The day before flying out of Kunming, it stopped on my hat five times again and again. I thought it was a joke with me, but later I realized it was to say goodbye to me. Didn't come last year, and didn't come this year ... Seagulls are lucky birds, happy birds! The ancients said,' Bai Ou flies with poetry'. More than ten years ago, when the seagulls came, I knew our good luck was coming. Look at their little appearance! Tut tut tut tut tut tut tut tut tut tut tut tut tut tut tut tut tut tut tut tut tut tut tut tut tut tut tut tut.

When the sun sets, the old man's plastic bag is empty. "It's getting late, they will go back soon. I heard that they are resting in the diān pool, but unfortunately I can't go. " The old man looked at the birds hovering in the sky, his eyes full of hope.

My friend told me that for more than ten years, in winter, the old people will come every day, just like their relatives with seagulls.

Unexpectedly, more than ten days later, someone suddenly told us that the old man had passed away.

Hearing this news, we seem to see the old man and seagulls hugging each other at Cuihu Lake ... We enlarged the photo of the old man feeding seagulls for the last time and took it to Cuihu Lake. Unexpected things happened-a flock of seagulls suddenly flew in, circling around the portrait of the old man, repeatedly chirping, chirping and posturing were quite different from usual, as if something important had happened. We were so surprised that we quickly left the old man's photo to make room for the seagulls.

Seagulls flapped their wings quickly and flew into the air in turn in front of the portrait of the old man, like relatives who came to mourn. The old man in the photo silently looked at the seagulls hovering around him and looked at the "children" who accompanied him for many winters ... After a while, the seagulls landed one after another and stood in two rows before and after the portrait of the old man. They stood quietly, like white-winged angels who kept vigil for the elderly.

When we had to put away the portrait, seagulls rushed at it like bombs. They sang loudly and flapped their wings so close that we finally got out of this spinning white vortex (Xá n).

……

At the funeral of the old man, we carried the portrait and walked slowly to the mourning hall. The old man was carrying a blue cloth bag and pursed his mouth as if he were still calling for seagulls. In his mind, it must be a flying seagull.