Traditional Culture Encyclopedia - Weather inquiry - Prose
Prose
Guns are peaceful.
one
It's still spring, and it's suddenly getting hot.
But sitting in the room is still chilly. Reading by the window, often wearing a sweater and cotton-padded clothes and sitting still. The sun shines on the northern land, and even the clouds seem to be afraid of heat, leaving only some vague edges. Poplar catkins are flying all over the sky, rushing to the nasal cavity between people's breathing. The air once became crowded and dense.
Flowers bloom a little impatiently, standing lazily in the sun; If it were a little cooler, they would all run and hide for a while. Fortunately, it's windy, but the wind in northern Xinjiang is warm and sticky at the moment. Walking on the road, people always hope that the next rain will filter out all the catkins in the air, leaving only a moist breath for people to breathe.
Although it didn't rain, the sky was still blue. It's just that there is hot air on the distant horizon. Under the sunshine, the hot air kept shaking, as if the flame in the furnace was burning endlessly.
Grandma cleans and washes in the kitchen, and occasionally has a cough or two. A bird stood on the sunny elm tree outside the window and made a silent call to the sky. That cry probably shook the surrounding clouds, so as soon as I turned around, the window was replaced by another cluster. They look a little more elegant than before, like honeysuckle, extending infinitely in a clean space.
Immersed in the undisturbed silence, I suddenly realized that such a beautiful moment is the eternal beauty I have been pursuing. It has nothing to do with the size of the house, the judgment of outsiders, vanity and comparison, and jealousy calculation. This is only related to my inner peace. Just like a river, no matter how many people stop for it, it just flows into the distance endlessly. No sadness, no joy, is an endless and eternal emptiness. Because of this moment of silence, my heart is full of happiness.
I remembered a wild cat I saw in a large peach grove in the suburbs. It held its head high and walked in the open space between two rows of peach trees, its hair shining brightly in the sunshine leaking from the cracks in the trees. This vast and lush peach forest is like its kingdom, and rows of peach trees are solemn soldiers' phalanx. The wind blew through the peach grove, and the leaves rattled like soothing sonatas. Wild cats just walk indifferently, not caring about the noise of the world, the cars whizzing by on the road, the prey and tomorrow. In its noble soul, a free and unrestrained river flows.
At that time, a heavy rain had just washed the whole world. Daqingshan stands in the rain and fog, just like an imaginary castle floating in the air. Trees far and near, in the humid air, are full of poetry and sadness, and are silent. I asked the driver, what color is the cyan of Daqingshan? Answer: cyan is a color between blue and black. I stared out of the window and suddenly wanted to turn into a deep blue and blend in with the rolling mountains.
As night falls, the city is shrouded in rain and looks quieter and quieter. There are flowers in the air, and someone is walking slowly on the road with an umbrella. Don't worry. The rain wet the girl's skirt, the street lamp cast a dim light, and the girl's shadow fell on the blue-gray brick floor, pitiful and thin.
I remembered another afternoon, standing at the window watching the rain with my friends. Rain pattered on the window. The whole city was quietly bathed in rain. After the noise of horses and chariots was filtered by rain, it gradually faded away, as if the sound came from the distant horizon, where heavy dark clouds were surging. This is the vast sky in northern Xinjiang, and every cloud is close at hand.
My friends and I chatted while watching the unpredictable clouds. The vast and distant sky in northern Xinjiang suddenly filled my heart with sadness. How many years will it take for people to walk in this life before they meet someone who will chat with you for a while, or who will watch the clouds, listen to the rain, take a boat and open an umbrella together?
This may take a long time. Perhaps, that person is always on the road.
two
Take Arxana to pay the heating bill at noon.
The toll station is at the end of an old neighborhood nearby, so we walked hand in hand in a long alley. There is no wind, the sun is shining and dazzling, and there is a comfortable warmth on the shoulders. It coincides with the weekend, and the nearby primary school campus is empty. Almost all the people who met head-on in the alley were old people, with their hands behind their backs and their waists hooked, crawling slowly in the sun like lazy cats. This shop is sparsely populated. In a stationery store, there is only one old lady who is too guarded. At first glance, Alshanna saw a jar full of colored marbles on the shelf at the door, so she went in excitedly, asked me to change a one-dollar coin with WeChat, put it in and slowly shook the handle, and a mysterious orange colored ball slipped out of the hole.
We also saw a small courtyard left unlocked, quietly opened the door, and the cat walked around. There is no one in the yard, only the sun shines on the small coffee table and rattan chair. A sparrow jumped up and down on the wall. An old man's voice came from the room. We walked around, and then the cat sneaked out and quietly brought it to the door.
As soon as I went out, I saw an old man riding a bicycle and carrying a box of glass candied haws, passing by us.
Mom, Sugar-Coated Berry! Alker Sana shouted to me.
The old man clearly knew that he was going to make a deal, and he deliberately peddled a long whistle: sugar-coated haws and reeds-
Hey, sugar gourd, wait! I hesitated for a few seconds and shouted at his back.
The old man stopped the car at once and looked at us with a smile. This payment is more convenient than buying marbles. Just scan the QR code on the glass cabinet to complete the business. The old man also carefully wrapped Sugar-Coated Berry's bamboo stick in a napkin and handed it to the excited Arshana.
We ate sweet and sour Sugar-Coated Berry and strolled into the payment station at the end of the alley. As soon as I entered the door, I suggested that in this era, you should open online payment to facilitate residents. A middle-aged man said with a smile: There are many old people living in this large area. We are here for the convenience of those who can't use the Internet.
After a while, a middle-aged woman came in and talked about the ribs she wanted for lunch today.
I heard a joke: Your family is rich. Now I hear someone say that they eat ribs, and I think this family is living well.
Everyone laughed at the recent soaring pork prices and soaring prices.
Ashanna also watched curiously in the room and laughed with us. Suddenly I feel that this traditional face-to-face way of doing things is more warm between people than the cold network. Perhaps, all the old, old and slow lifestyles have their own beautiful warmth.
After dinner, take Alxana downstairs for a walk. A building next to the residential area is said to be Gao Qian Building, and there is a small garden on the first floor, each of which is more competitive. Taking advantage of the night, Ashanna and I pushed open the door left unlocked one by one, crept in like cats, looked at the blooming roses in the dim moonlight, and bent down to smell the cold petals. Onions, cabbages, cucumbers and tomatoes all show signs of decline in autumn. An unknown bug quickly climbed to our feet and disappeared into the silent vegetable garden.
There is a family sitting on the sofa in the living room watching TV, and the curtains are covered with rich flowers. Like the host, Ashanna and I walked around their yard quietly, enjoying brand-new fitness equipment one by one. The moon hung in the cold night sky and cast a whirling shadow on the earth. The wind also paints in the moonlight, leaving mottled shadows on old walls, closed windows of shops, parked cars and fuzzy concrete floors. All is silent. The sound of children running in the wind is particularly clear, as cool as moonlight washing, slowly rippling.
In a corner, Athena and I found an old elm tree growing in the wall. The master who repaired the wall also craved its shade, and suddenly felt pity under the scorching sun, taking it as a part of a wall, sandwiched between red bricks and cement. So, it sprinkled shadows evenly on the walls on both sides and turned itself into an amazing ink painting.
Mom, let's buy a house on the first floor in the future. I also want a small garden, just like grandma's home on the grassland. We grow vegetables and flowers, and we have a dog, a kitten and a rabbit. In the evening, we can sit in the yard and watch the moon. After walking through these beautiful and silent gardens one by one, Arshana enthusiastically said to me.
Well, in a few years, we will also buy a house with a garden. Now, let's move the weeds on the roadside into our vase first. With that, I cut off some dried green bristlegrass and opened a bunch of flowers thrown out of the trash can. A still-flourishing bamboo is waiting for us to take it home.
three
I seldom look at my circle of friends, even deliberately, because it feels like Pandora's box. Every time I open it, my calm heart is like a mess, trivial, vulgar and unclear. In real life, those who feel good about themselves, either because of vanity, jealousy or boredom, push their food, drink, Lazarus, daily whereabouts, complaints and complaints to you like gossips, which feels like a disaster and cannot be avoided. I would rather be in a daze quietly, basking in the sun, listening to the wind and watching pedestrians than being swept away by the massive "sunshine" and "show"
Just now, my friend sent me a screenshot of a friend circle of a woman we know together. This is a person who dresses very simply in real life and looks so ordinary that you can't remember him at all. So that I just saw the photo sent by my friend and casually asked: Who is this person? Bright-eyed, small and lovely, he looks like a little "internet celebrity" in his twenties. The friend smiled. This is someone you can see from time to time!
I laughed as soon as I heard it, but I couldn't help but want to curse the person who created beauty software, so that women can wake up without washing their faces and look at all kinds of customs with a strong old blanket. In reality, this woman who took too many beautiful photos obviously has a crooked old lady's mouth, and her long-term unwashed hair is mixed with bits and pieces of white hair. She wears a medium aesthetic and never considers meeting twice. However, a few selfie photos directly put all the five senses on the face of the pointed melon. It was a bright red cherry mouth, as bright as a baby's eyes and as pure as a girl's smile, so that these photos also attracted her ex-husband's curiosity and asked her if she had ever dumped her face.
Open the circle of friends of another acquaintance who has not been in contact for a long time, and see that he is busy every day, sometimes arguing with people about the scandal of stars, sometimes worrying about a national event, and sometimes worrying about housing prices for the country and the people. In a word, he is a respectable intellectual with profound knowledge, broad vision, broad mind and extensive reading. However, what I know about him is different: criticizing women's greed for material things, but borrowing money to buy expensive luxury goods and borrowing money from women; There are two children at home, and they can't raise them, leaving them to live with their wives; Criticism of China people rushing to buy a house, but because they listened to people's words and borrowed money to buy a house, they were cheated, which made it embarrassing to rob Peter to pay Paul.
There is also information about death in the circle of friends. A few days ago, another acquaintance died unexpectedly in WeChat. This is the third person who died in my WeChat circle of friends. We are not friends with this dead gentleman, but we often meet on some occasions. Because he always works overtime on various occasions and even writes poems in public, he once told his friends that he was too backward, even with the stupidity and naivety of some literati. Over 60 years old, I am still as vain as a child. I always send personal words that have been posted in my circle of friends, or news that I have won honor, and then send them to everyone. So I was disturbed by mass messages many times and wanted to delete him. He is old, and society no longer needs him. Everyone sees him as an elder who is no longer of much use. However, he can't let go of the aura of the past and hopes to stay in those busy lives.
Soon, his work unit posted a nostalgic article on the official WeChat account. In just a few hours, 50 thousand people clicked. The messages of those acquaintances present all aspects of him to everyone. His parents, brothers and sisters, children and wife are all known to the world. Even he can't afford a car, learning is simple, and children are addicted to published words. Such an unknown fragment was exposed to the public because of his untimely death.
I suddenly felt a little noisy, so I told my friends that I died unexpectedly. The world will definitely write me an article on the official WeChat account in this way, attracting countless people who know or don't know to praise me. In that case, it would be terrible. My friend sighed with emotion: I wonder if there is any way to keep the news of my death from the world. You also remember to write me a memorial, right?
No, I'm not going to follow the trend and write commemorative words that have been commented by thousands of people. I want to keep my friends in my heart and miss them forever, instead of writing them in a noisy circle of friends. I was just busy all night, and then I got dumped mercilessly. I thought the same thing.
four
In the afternoon, I heard my friend Ari mention that my second brother is a giant baby. Her second brother and wife are thirty years old, but there is no boundary at all. The couple left their two children with their parents and didn't see each other for a month. When I first chose the bus route, I specially posted the station near the house rented by Ari, so that after work, both of them can eat and drink for free at Ari's house. Ari thought they would only come once or twice, but he didn't want to. They lived for a year, and completely regarded this place as their home. Ari couldn't get rid of it. When Ari accused them of having children, they also plausibly said that the old people were fine, worry-free and safe. Ari said, you don't take them to the city once, and the children can't see their parents. Why do you want to have them? Don't want to, they soon "managed" to live, and really brought the child, but it was brought to Ali's home.
Fortunately, Ari bought a small house, just enough for a family of three, so soon after the renovation, Ari moved out of the original rented house, and clearly told his second brother: Don't come here for dinner unless it's windy and rainy. I have my life, and so should you. ...
After listening to Ari's life troubles, I quickly went to the TV station to record a round-table interview for a party. As soon as I entered the door, I saw the director, dispatcher and field affairs shouting at the top of my lungs, and my throat was so dry that I could hear the sound of screaming inside. The gray-haired director is a gentle and humble old gentleman, but his face is full of fatigue and burnout from overwork for a party. He kept walking around, communicating with the newly arrived guests, with a calm tone and sincere attitude. But I still sensitively captured that under the calm water, there was a volcano about to erupt, stirred by noise and anxiety. Even one or two of his white hairs trembled slightly in the bright light.
The assistant director is a lean guy, obviously more energetic than the director, but his voice is hoarse. It can be seen that he is overworked and the wheels may stop turning at any time. So when a group of amateur aunts were dancing in the square dance, because they never understood the position on the stage, he shouted: Aunt, please listen to me now! The audience was suddenly silent, and the aunts with red rouge on their faces stood there, like well-trained primary school students, afraid to take a bite.
I only stayed for a while, and I was a little annoyed by this tense atmosphere. But after a while, I heard a bang and saw a pen flying through the air and landing on a round table full of photographers, pilots and athletes. A woman in a man's vest tilted her head, dodging the crumbs of a ballpoint pen, and then bowed her head guiltily. The director's roar cut through the high-decibel music and crashed into the eardrums of everyone at the scene. Because the young waitress inserted a sentence when the guest was recording, the last bit of patience left in the director's heart was finally blown up in an instant.
I sat quietly in the frightened silence, and suddenly remembered a one-meter-long eel fish I once saw in the Ocean Museum, which was hiding in a narrow reef gap that could only accommodate it as a fish. If its chin didn't tremble slightly with breathing and its eyes blinked occasionally, people would almost think that it had no signs of life. The staff of the aquarium said that this eel fish can live for as long as 30 to 40 years. At present, this eel, like hibernating, has survived in the Xiaotian yard of the Aquarium with a square meter of 10 for 16 years, and is regarded as a veteran of the Shanghai Aquarium. It is said that this kind of eel is lazier than tortoise, and it almost refuses to waste any extra energy except eating. I was amazed at its endurance to the environment. How did it survive the endless dark days in such a long period of sixteen years? This is not an ocean where it can show its talents. It doesn't need to hunt and avoid natural enemies. It just needs to be cared for in the gap. However, what is the difference between this and imprisonment? This kind of life, far more than the struggle with the enemy in the ocean, needs strong power to deal with it.
I think of a Swedish eel reported in the news. After being accidentally thrown into the bottom of the well by a little boy, it actually lived there until 155 years old, and then died safely. Humans always think that they are the masters of the earth, but many times, we often don't have a fish, which can better resist the long and boring time and deal with trivial troubles in the impetuous world of mortals in a powerful and static way.
five
When people reach middle age, troubles are like dust, which floats in the air every day.
My friend's new dean, Yuan, engages in small circles. She is a dink, so she looks down on Yuan who has given birth to two children. She thinks that housewives like her are doing nothing, which has delayed the reform plan of the college, so she tries her best to give her classes. She worked hard, but she was isolated because she was too intellectual to kiss up. So Yuan missed the retired director and let her breathe freely, while planning to jump ship to another university. Like me, she bought an old, shabby and small school district. Just because she followed the advice of others, it is best for a two-child family to buy a school district and get it done. Just unlike me, she invested in renovation and let it out first. She left the house dilapidated and empty, thinking that when the children went to school, she would live by herself and sell it when she was finished.
We all admire Dong, who just fell in love and never got married and had children like wild cranes. She doesn't look so young in literature and art. Her parents are in poor health these two years, so she used to fly around the world to fall in love and changed to a middle-aged mode of flying around to accompany her mother to see a doctor.
As for me, I am often hit by reality. While chatting with Ah Yuan about these troubles, suddenly the residents downstairs knocked at the door and said that Dad, who was sunbathing at the gate of the community, couldn't stand up. Let's help him go home quickly. So I was in a hurry, found a wheelchair, and with the help of a few kind-hearted old people, helped ABBA into the house. Although I know that patients with cerebellar atrophy will eventually lose their mobility and be paralyzed in bed, I still feel sad to see that ABBA, who has lived with us in the city for nearly six years, has gradually become such an "abandoned" person. I think it's no use getting old. If I don't drag my children down, I can die happily, which is God's blessing to me.
In middle age, we feel that we have exhausted all our physical strength in order to live. However, for those old people who have lost their freedom of movement, perhaps just going to the toilet has exhausted all the strength and dignity in their lives before they can finally reach the place ten meters away. In this world, everyone is busy living and dying, just like the rotation of the planets in the universe. Perhaps, this is life.
When eating, I heard my lover mention a famous professor in our school, who was only forty or fifty years old. He died of a sudden myocardial infarction yesterday because he stayed up late doing scientific research. I can't help sighing when I think of the professor's numerous honors, endless project funds and endless allowances. I think death is really selfless. No matter who says I want to take it away, I won't change it for no amount of money. Just last month, a 50-year-old local writer died of a sudden cerebral hemorrhage. The reason is that he drinks too much on weekdays. I remember once he attended a training class. In just 20 days, he told me helplessly that after drinking 20 games, he drank more wine than water every day. If God doesn't take away such a desperate or dying person, who will he take away?
Such an idea, massaging the knee joint that often feels chilly because of sitting still every day, can not help but make my back cold, thinking about loving myself more.
I also remember someone who once belittled me and hacked me. I happened to see that man coming over on campus the other day. I still smile and say hello, as if nothing had happened between us.
When I do this, I find that my mind is more open, full of sympathy, and sympathetic to the struggles, jealousy and difficulties of human beings in the world. My heart is quiet, like the deep blue sea in the sun. A bird skimmed the sea and disappeared into the boundless clouds.
People will meet all kinds of people in their life. Some people will fall in love at first sight and become bosom friends, some people will never like it, and some people will never want to meet again after seeing it once. But when I think of people who don't like me, I may never see them again in my life. Maybe tomorrow he will disappear from this world and become dust, so I can forgive this person who may be tortured in the secular world and give him a smile and tolerance. Just like enjoying the dust flying in the sun, knowing that they will definitely return to the earth, I am happy for this dancing moment.
At night, I heard thunder rumbling outside the window, opened the curtains, looked up and saw the dark sky, knowing that a heavy rain was coming. My heart is extremely calm. I turned off my cell phone and computer, and began to study at middle-aged nights squeezed by worldly troubles every day.
(Excerpted from Baihuazhou Phase 2 202 1)
Brief introduction of the author
Anning, a member of Chinese Writers Association, is from Shandong. 25 works have been published. Masterpieces: Our Disappearing Country Life, Plants Forgotten in the Country, Idle People in the Country, Migration, Silent World. He has won the first China Young Writers Award, Ding Ling Literature Award, Bing Xin Prose Award, Ye Shengtao Teacher Literature Award, Inner Mongolia Suolongga Literature Award and many other awards. Published more than 4 million words in People's Literature and October.
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