Appreciation of Ma's Prose Nostalgia Notes

What I remember most about tiles is the scene of building a house and lifting tiles. When I was a child, I appreciated the coordinated action of architectural tiles. On the ground, the coolies piled a number of tiles into a high pile, lifted them and threw them hard. The people on the scaffold firmly grasped the tiles and put them on the scaffold. The tiles in the craftsman's hand were piled up in the mud. This process is called wawa here. The first tile is a verb and the second tile is a noun. Wawa, the change of part of speech, defined by tone, is wonderful. The beauty lies in that tile. For a long time every day, they lined up on the roof to form a blue tile square. From then on, these tiles, hand in hand, began to shelter the family from the wind and rain.

The most beautiful memory of tile is related to rain and snow. The erratic spring rain falls on the tile with the breeze, just like the willow buds and peach buds kissing the intimacy of the rain and dew at this time. The charm is like Li Shangyin's poem: "In the spring dream, the rain often floats on the tile, and the spirit is not satisfied with the flag all day long." Often summer rain is sudden, and autumn rain is continuous. When the silver rain-line arrow-shaft-like brush shoots down, the tile roof is like a drum beaten by a random mallet, making a crackling sound. Suddenly, the rain poured down the ridge. On the endless surface of the water, a bright water curtain instantly hangs down from the eaves. Among them, rhyme, in my limited reading, has not found an expression that can cause me to sing. In winter, when it snows, the snow feather falls silently on the tiles, and the feathers meet each other, layer by layer, and gradually thicken into a huge quilt, which is firmly covered on the roof. On the day when the snow melts, the weather will become extremely cold. As the saying goes, snow is not cold. During this period, snow water and tiles are like lingering lovers, inseparable. There is a hook on the eaves tile at the end of the roof, which is called dripping water. Melting snow tried to fall, but it was condensed into ice by dripping water. In the cold wind, the ice on the dripping water stretches a little, forming an ice hang. On March 3rd, Lan Bing with green tiles will be exposed on the roof of the tile. Looking at the ice hanging on the eaves, I can't help but think of Bai Juyi's poem: "The ice in the pool sticks to the bottom of the boat, and the snow in the building sells Luva ditch."

Melting snow is cold. The winter when the tile house melted snow made me have the warmest memory. On the day when the snow melted that year, my mother called and told me not to save it! Burn more stoves to keep the room warm. I said, it's warm Mom said, today, I went to the street and passed by your door. Your row of houses is cold in your room. I'm surprised that my mother didn't come into the house or go next door. How do I know it's not as warm as next door? Mom went on to say that the snow on other people's roofs is almost gone, only you, the snow on the roof is still thick and dazzling. Putting down the phone, I hurried out of the house and looked at the roof. Sure enough, there is snow on my roof. I am surprised that a mother loves her son so carefully. At that time, I felt a warm current in my heart.

The most sentimental memory of Wa is the legend of Wa burial. On October 20/4165438+10/3, my brothers and sisters and I went home to find the exact graves of my grandparents and great-grandparents. Several clan relatives also went to their ancestral lands after learning the news. Here, in the past, when people were poor and couldn't afford a coffin when they died, they wrapped themselves in mats and buried their faces with tiles. An old woman said that a few years ago, in the north of our village, an ancient tomb was found, and the face of the deceased was covered with a tile.

The most regrettable memory of tiles is caused by a tile collector. June 9, 2007 is the second Cultural Heritage Day in China. During this period, Sun, known by Feng Jicai as "culture rescues the foolish old man", told TV reporters that it took him 10 years to witness the disappearance of the famous historical and cultural city Xun County. Sun Fengchun is a ceramic tile collector. It is said that his ceramic tile collection has three warehouses, nearly half of which come from my hometown: Xunxian, a famous national historical and cultural city. When we throw these old tiles away as garbage, Sun treasures them as treasures, which is really sad. Over the years, Sun's words have popped up from time to time, stinging my sensitive nerves.

In my field of vision, there is also a friend who has strong feelings and deep understanding of ceramic tiles. Last year, Wen Mingjun showed me a replica of Vashe Zhuang Yan, which he designed for people voluntarily. The copy not only has illustrations, but also a poem and a good article. Seeing it triggered a series of thoughts. It's a little pity that in a paragraph of Vasong's text, the words "temporary shortage to be filled" are marked. I thought at that time, Wasson's scene is really hard to find! Now, on the roof of an old house, I see Vasong. Fortunately, Mr. Hu Cheng took a picture of Vasong in time. At this time, I remembered a sentence in Washe Zhuang Yan: "Washe is a nostalgic place where you can talk quietly."

Where can I find spring?

In the early 1980s, Vietnam, which had just finished the counterattack in self-defense, suddenly sang the song "Spring Ding Dong" in our army. "Spring water, spring water, wherever you go, you go, singing, playing the strings, and flowing far away ..." We soldiers who have experienced the blood and fire of war sang the words "Don't think about me, don't think about my hometown". A patriotic homesickness as strong as a wine song is brewed by tinkling springs, and excited tears will quietly climb the face of youth.

At that time, I had a special feeling for spring water. The year before last, in order to prepare the book "Seeking the Fairy and Finding the Stone", I went to the mountain with the stone carving artist Zhang. When crossing the Changfeng Canal, I regret to say that there were many springs here in the first 20 years.

Xue Ying's home is in Zhengchang Village at the foot of Hua Shan Mountain. Two years later, I visited the ancient village and came to Zhangwa Village in the south of Hua Shan. When we came to a tree-lined ditch in the village, the director of the village Committee introduced that this spring ditch was very clean before, and there were many springs in it. There is a hot spring in the south district. When it is cold, women often wash clothes by the steaming spring. What a beautiful scenery. Unfortunately, the spring water has stopped flowing for twenty years.

This river runs through the north-south spring river in the village and divides Zhangwa village into two Zhangwa villages. In these two Zhangwa villages, all the men are surnamed Zhang, belonging to the same clan, and they are descendants of Zhang Hao, the general of the Ming Dynasty. Zhang Jixian introduced: At that time, the ancestor Zhang Hao saw the beautiful scenery, fertile land, low terrain, easy to hide and recuperate, and beside the elephant trunk on the sunny side of Huashan Mountain, it was a place with excellent geomantic omen, so he moved his family.

Speaking of spring water, I learned that there used to be a spring water in the yard of a family in Zhangwa Village. Now, although the spring is cut off, the spring pool is still there. We came to the house at once. This used to be a magical spring. The host introduced us by the spring pool: In the past, on New Year's Eve, the spring water changed from clear to milky white on the afternoon of the 29th, and it continued until the afternoon of the next New Year's Day, and the spring water changed from milky white to clear. Why is there such a magical phenomenon? The spring that was cut off 20 years ago left a secret that can never be solved. Because of the magic, the owner is so awed by this spring that he doesn't eat it at ordinary times, let alone wash things with it. Up to now, the first and fifteenth day of each month will give incense to this spring. I saw a square iron box under the southern end of the slate in the west of the spring pool, which was used as a censer. There is incense ashes that have been burned for a short time in the box. The master said that yesterday, the first day, I was sprayed with perfume. At present, a peach tree in the spring pool and several cucumbers by the pool are growing happily. Looking at the swaying spring pool of trees, I can't help but think of Yang Wanli's poem: "Spring eyes are silent and pity the trickle, and the shade of trees shines on the water." Unfortunately, when you get close to it, it's hard to find the shadow of that strange spring.

Seeing the spring pool reminds me of the Happy Spring in Baisi Village. More than 30 years ago, when Baisi Village was building an irrigation project of diversion canal in the west of the village, it may have been touched by God, and actually dug a big spring hole during the construction. 12 inch pump in spring, watering more than 1000 acres of land will not dry. The villagers named the spring "Happiness Spring" and the elevated canal "Happiness Canal". Sadly, by the mid-1980s, the fountain of happiness was completely out of water.

One rainy afternoon, I looked through Xun County Records in Ming and Qing Dynasties, but found the spring flowing in the yellow pages of the ancient scrolls. I heard the jingle of spring between the lines.

Ming Jiajing's "Xun County Records, Mountains and Rivers, Huashan Mountain" contains: "There are seventy springs under the mountain."

During the reign of Emperor Kangxi of Qing Dynasty, Xunxian Records and Mountains and Rivers specifically listed "Springs" as the title, saying: "Baijinquan under the Purple Mountain has an inscription by the prefect Xu Hong; Threshold Spring, at the foot of Hua Shan Mountain, * * * seventy has two. Er Ya said,' When the threshold springs out, those who come out gush out'. There have been too many traffic jams recently, and only half of them have been saved. The most authors are Jingjiazhai, Zhangjiawa, Wangfengyuan, Shiqiaotou, Dongyang Stream, Xiyang Stream and Daquanquan in Datun.

Spring in my hometown also has a process of gradually blocking. When I closed the county annals, I told this melancholy to a literary friend who worked in the county annals office. Unexpectedly, Wenyou gave me a surprise. He said that there might be springs in Hougongtang village of our county. I immediately contacted the staff of the harem village Committee and got a gratifying affirmation.

Hougongtang Village is on the east bank of Qihe River. A villager told me that all the springs are on the west bank of the river. Listen, there are many springs here. But on the west coast, I came to the biggest hot spring. Because of the severe drought, the water stopped, and the spring stopped a few days ago. The villagers led us along the coast to find other larger springs. But I am still disappointed. Go further. Let's go

On the beach, we finally found the spring. Surprise.

It's a spring. Four. Three big ones and a small one. The gurgling spring is struggling, pushing the sediment and constantly surging. The surging spring water, integrated into a pool, merged into a stream and flowed to the dry bed of Qihe River in the east.

I finally found the spring in my hometown, although I didn't hear the tinkling sound of spring.

The villagers introduced in an unquestionable tone: as long as the weather is not dry, hot springs and those larger springs will spit out water. I nodded, and then I will come to see spring at an appropriate time. Looking at the cobblestone waterway more than one meter wide in the hot spring, I think that as long as the spring tide surges and the water hits the pebbles, it will jingle, sing and play the strings and flow away. ...

Baisi village sees the world.

Have you seen the world? What is it like? Few people can say clearly what the "world" is. Beginners are often encouraged to say: Go out and see the world. It is also easy to ridicule those who have little knowledge: they have never seen the world. Even people who travel all over the world, except Wushan, can hardly say that they have seen the world.

Unexpectedly, I saw the world in Baisi Village of this county.

Continue to inspect ancient villages. On this day, I came to Baisi Village, saw historical blocks and ancient houses, left the Jade Emperor Temple and came to longxing temple. An old lady living next door to the temple asked us when she led us into the gate of longxing temple: Have you seen the world? Several of us said we hadn't seen it. The old man said that there is a world on both sides of the front hall door. Surprised eyes jumped on our faces almost at the same time, and our steps accelerated.

The world, is this the world? I asked the old man and got a positive answer. I stopped in front of two worlds, surprised with doubt and relieved with confusion. These are two stone tablets in the early Ming Dynasty with unique shapes. The thickness of the plate is 35cm, the width of the plate is 40cm and the height is 77cm. The base, body and cap of the monument are1.66m high, and the two monuments are very simple and heavy. The inscriptions on the left are: Sage Pangu, Emperor Fu, Huangdi Shennong and Xuanyuan. The inscription on the right reads: Fu Temple is a dummy, so we must plant blessings and study Taoism. It began in the middle of Han Yongping and changed with the times. Longxing temple was built in the Kaiyuan period of the Tang Dynasty, but it was abandoned after repeated wars and defeats. In the Song Dynasty, it was rebuilt in the fifth year of Zhenggeng, and the three temples were rebuilt. Magnificent and resplendent, the Buddha statue has been transformed into a resort, engraved on a stone, and will always be remembered as a cloud ear.

Why this world? I asked myself. Studying the inscriptions, I gradually figured out a little bit of the cold taste of the world. Worship Pangu's creation, worship Huang San's Chinese ancestors, recognize the source and know the source, do not humiliate ancestors, and do not regret yourself. The inscription on the left may be the first to tell all beings how high the world is. The inscription on the right reveals the spreading history of Buddhism in China and the revival history of Longxing Temple, which seems to enlighten all beings: only when foreign cultures collide and blend with their own cultures can the level of civilization be improved. With this tolerance, it is the second height to see the world.

I stepped back and stood in the middle of the gate of longxing temple Hall, looking at the world in front of me devoutly. I was surprised when my eyes shifted from the flat hat on the left to the flat hat on the right. On the left side of the monument cap, there are slight gouges on the rough bluestone. Isn't this a tall and straight mountain? Yes, the mountain peak. On the right, my eyes eagerly turned to the tablet hat on the right: the image is natural, there are almost no gouges in the stone, and the middle is concave. My surprise: Yin and Yang. The mountains are yang and the valleys are yin. The west is yin and the east is yang. Everything has yin and yang, "yin and yang are harmonious and everything gets it" (Book of Rites, Suburb Sacrifice). I remembered the old man's words: two monuments are the world. Loneliness is not the world. World, world. The combination of two monuments is the world. You can really see the world in Baisi Village! How many information codes about the world are there in those two worlds!

Baisi Village is indeed an ancient village with rich cultural heritage. The ancient village is located on the hillside of Baisi Temple. According to legend, Qin Shihuang passed by here that year, and once stopped to pay homage to Shao Hao, the god of Huashan Mountain in Xiyue. This mountain was named Baisi Mountain, hence the name Baisi Village. It was renamed Baisi Village in the late Qing Dynasty and early Ming Dynasty. A tablet without words was unearthed in the village in the 1990s. It is said that it was built after Qin Shihuang sacrificed to Bai Di.

This is the world of Baisi Village, and friends from other places may not agree with this world, which is reasonable. World, world. The face of the world. Every place has its own world. Why else do people always say: Go out and see the world?

I'm afraid it will be difficult for a person to see the world clearly all his life.