: The world of the night
Whenever the night falls, perhaps due to my character reasons, for the night, there is a special emotion, the night color of each season, giving people different feelings. With a cloudy and clear mind, the face of the red dust, the momentary frame, this like, become a loving, a ray of life can not be more than a clear happiness.
This spring's rain seems to be particularly abundant, everywhere wet. On that day, a burst of rain, a burst of rain, endless, medium rain, pouring down all day, for the spring rain is as expensive as oil in this season, older people say, decades have never encountered such a rain, let a person feel a long-lost joy, a longing for the whole spring.
After this spring rain, I asked a few friends in the evening to walk and talk on the path in the field, and at this time, the wind that ushered in the blowing was carrying the spring. While sniffing the fresh earthy smell and watching the willow branches swaying in the wind, a warm feeling rose in my heart. In the moist soil, stepping on the freshly sprouted spring grass, suddenly found a small flower in the field, the heart will be filled with trembling joy, will stare for a long time, want to pick but do not dare to pick, as if afraid of blasphemy of the sanctity of life.
The old bridge, which has been missing for a long time, retains the remnants of the old dream. I'm not sure if I'm going to be able to do that, but I'm going to be able to do it," he said.
Reading high school, from time to time after dinner, a few of our good classmates, out of the school, often the song "young friends to meet" the string law let us heart pounding.
"Twenty years later, we come to meet, raise a glass to invite heroes, glory belongs to who? Belongs to me, belongs to you, belongs to the new generation of the eighties ......", the song floated on the path outside the school, a joke in class, an ancient poem, can lead to the topic of conversation, from the study of the little by little, to the anecdotes of the street. Young hearts, always surging with youthful fervor, "pointing to the mountains and mountains, exciting words, dung when ten thousand households waiting", together in the lofty talk has become the smoke of the years. Nowadays, a lot of classmates are difficult to meet, when that haunting ambition is like the night of the spring breeze as dispersed. There is a good relationship with a big-eyed girl, is in the spring to study in the provincial capital, once that sentence: we are unbreakable molecular group, at that moment has been as a cloud of smoke generally dispersed. Whenever the spring breeze brushes the willow, I can always think of her double beautiful big eyes.
Summer nights, the wind is always so enthusiastic, give you a full ***. Even if the windless days, there is a heat wave around you, the streets and alleys are out of the cool people, people sitting together to play cards, gossip, big to the country's policies, small to the price of wood, rice, oil and salt up and down, discuss, and sometimes tonight argued red in the face, disagree, but tomorrow night will still be the same to come, still gossiping together, never cared about.
This time, the most lively is the square, those young daughters-in-law big girls, there are older aunts, sometimes beat up the drums, beat up the gongs, with the music played on the stereo, gongs and drums of the rhythm of the dance, jumping that moving square dance, glittering under the lights, the fitness of the female body to the enchantment of the full show, as well as those lovely children, they twisted the dance, rendering the atmosphere of happiness! The people's healthy dance posture, happy smile, accompanied by sweet songs to the summer night sky lit.
The cool breeze, only inexplicable night sky, more can let hold people a good feeling, the stars crystal, the sky blue, the sea-like deep feelings, twinkling stars as the eyes will speak, bright moon as a tender woman ...... when the song "Lotus Pond, Moonlight" from the square drifted into the ear drums, and immediately remind me of a hundred acres I have been Lotus pond, a pool of summer lotus under the moonlight, fields of lotus leaves, under the hazy leaves, clear waves rippling, take a pocket of the bright moon, whispering, whispering, quiet night, quietly enjoying this unique scenery, the heart with the dragonflies dancing on the lotus leaves.
Walking from the lotus pond, around the flowers through the trees, jumping streams over the rocks, the heart as a stream, clear as a mirror, experiencing the encounter of all, the heart of the desire and not possession, happy mood, splashing ripples, but also has long been transformed into a flower between the dew, written into my memory of the paper, charming into a warm line of poetry, permeated the road in time.
This season's sky, such as the child's face, say change, the evening night sky clouds more and more, a wind, take away a heat wave, blowing the cool people shouted over the hidden, rumbling, after the thunder, the rain also came, the rain poured down. And those naive children, they are always attached to the moment the rain comes, enjoy playing, would rather get wet before going home happily.
This time the rain, come and go in a hurry, also in a hurry, under the momentum of bold, stop without attachment, no coy gesture, just like the Northwest people that bold character, straight to the point, never bend the corner.
Autumn night, stirring my memories of love, is a night in the fall, from the old city of the cinema out, I gently humming the theme song of the film, still immersed in the story, accidentally, riding a bicycle knocked down a girl, and then, in the heart of the hospital to help her deal with the injuries, to send her home. Who knows, and then each other to play JiangJiang a romantic youthful years.
After work, often a piece of the movie, the movie familiar footage, so that we often have endless words, cool cool night wind, seems to be slightly chilly, I do not hesitate to take off the jacket, decisively draped over her body, unknowingly, began a long journey of love. Many of the dusk, on the bike, movie theaters, parks, suburban ridges, leaving us a string of happy figures.
Three years of love journey, after a grueling trek, I get as much love as I want.
Many years later, still standing in the autumn night, the branches of the fruitful, orchard fragrance, life has stepped into the middle age, how many past events as if it happened yesterday, really, the years as smoke can not be cut.
Night, that with a cool autumn wind, comforting their own a restless heart, pick up a fallen flower, stick in the hands, smell the fragrance of nature; pick up a fallen leaf, observe its leaf veins, appreciate it contains the mystery of life, soaked through an umbrella of autumn rain, feel the cycle of the season. In this quiet night, guarding a pure land of the soul, once again gazing at the starry sky, so that the moonlight carries the innocent thoughts, looking at the moon and thinking of home, humming the moving strings, and feeling every rise of life.
Winter night, pull the curtain, turn on the wall lamp, sit on the bed, open a book, immersed in the writings of the literati, to appreciate because the world is very big, I want to go to see, for various reasons can not touch the outside world. Sleepy, buckle the book on the face, accompanied by the rich smell of ink to do a beautiful dream, dreaming of bright sun rise, beautiful flowers in full bloom, dreaming of Li Bai stood on the bank of the raging Yellow River and sang: Yellow River water from the sky, running to the sea will never return. I dreamed that the charming goddess of mountains and rivers in Qu Yuan's "Ghosts of the Mountains" danced and sang under the big trees on the top of the mountains with a group of mountain elves, dancing my heart like a clear blue lake and singing my heart with the fragrance of plum blossoms.
When I woke up, the first snow was coming down quietly, out of the house, walking in the yard covered by a thin snow track, looking at the god of the ocean, imagining myself as a snowflake, dancing in the sky of the night.
Then, coming back from the outside, in your own little world, boiling snow to make tea. Watching the tea leaves stretching body light flip, suddenly up and down, butterflies dancing, swallow-like spirit, beauty like delicate, flipped into a Tang poem, a Song lyrics, flow into a rich history of Chinese culture, until it is such as choking outside the snow quietly fell, stopped at the bottom of the cup, green tea color itself is a landscape, open the lid, tea flavor refreshing, at this time, the hut is filled with the aroma of tea. Then drink tea while listening to the snow! Thinking about the cold crows on the bare branches? No, I will calmly check myself, once a failure, tear run after the awakening, thinking about the passing time, I did those meaningful things, will be in the days to come to walk a little more comfortable, less guilt.
Being trapped in the depths of the fireworks, make a pot of light tea, you come and do not come, I am in a touch of tea, waiting for you.
A person who does not believe in predestination at the beginning, after a long time, was infected by the cause and effect of spring and fall, blossom and fall, and became convinced of predestination. Once upon a time are the romance of not being able to go back.
People to a certain age, the pursuit of a state of mind is a calm and peaceful, and then gorgeous turn, the days of the encounter, do not want to be sensational, but would like to be calm, looking at each other slowly grow old together.
Snow, fluttering and drifting all night, to the early rise of people a new surprise, but also let my mind once again the most happy holy.
The night world, like to shut themselves in the study, open the window, the sky more a layer of hazy, very beautiful, very beautiful, as long as casually scooped up a strand of light moonlight, settled in the pen, can flow out of a paragraph scattered beautiful words. All the sounds are gradually tending to silence, all the noise into a soft music, at this time, I stood in the wind of the years, seem to hear the earth from the pulse.
: The beauty of the night
Again to the midnight, sleepless. Or perhaps they are torturing themselves. But if this is so with the so-called fate to go with the flow, ask their own soul, willing?
The habit of staying up all night, in memory, since still an elementary school student. At that time, the sky is still blue, the river can still see the small fish in the play, you can see the bottom of the water in the fine sand occasionally transparent body shrimp in the slowly crawling, there are water plants in the slow flow of water swaying. At that time in the sky there are airplanes flying over, there will be a long white tail, and partners have been tilting their heads, eyes chasing the direction of the plane, watching the white tail has been generated, has been slowly dissipating, until the plane slowly disappeared into a point, slowly disappeared from the field of vision, then and partners to compete with the visual acuity, is to see who can hold on to the other people can not see the plane and their own can still see, even if it is just a blur in the mind that the plane is not visible. Even if it's just a blurry bright spot in your mind.
Rarely wait for a Sunday when there is no system of double holidays now, or a single holiday, the daytime is so wonderful, not to mention in the more beautiful night, together in the village between the various grassy knolls hide-and-seek, to the woods to catch the robin, when the robin is equivalent to a delicious meal. Until very late very late, a small friend exclaimed, today's homework has not been done, tomorrow the teacher to personally check the usual homework at that time by the students as the head of the group to check, and finally report the results to the teacher, so we all quickly scattered birds and beasts, went home to start in the humble table and write up the homework, in those days there is no such concept of reducing the burden on the students, so the student's homework burden is still quite heavy, coupled with a pair of students who will spend their lives in the village. In those days, there was no concept of reducing the burden on students, so the burden of homework on students was still quite heavy, coupled with a pair of parents who had placed all their unrealized ambitions in their children. So it was not uncommon for students to write homework until 9:30 to 10:00 at night, or even later. So slowly also developed the habit of studying at night, but also slowly began to enjoy the night that unique quiet and cozy, which is in the busy sunshine can not experience the feeling.
Perhaps the age is also day by day, perhaps the heart is also slowly old, even in the depths of thought, began to more and more appear in the hometown of a scene, began to more and more read up with the age of the years floating more and more old, more and more bad health of the parents. A certain writer once said that when a person begins to more and more nostalgic, it proves that he is also slowly old. Maybe that unknown guy was right. The most obvious sign that a person is getting old is that he or she is becoming more and more nostalgic, and the body's functions are slowly starting to slow down.
But what's wrong with getting older? More and more memories, but also can let themselves slow down, can go quietly comb their own memories and thoughts, slowly savor the past sweet and sour, life sometimes like a piece of puerh, the longer the years of tea, the more mellow, but also more fragrant, of course, this fragrance is not everyone has a corresponding level to read, it is as much as it needs to understand it to slowly articulate the years of wasted time for it. Just as the night, quiet and mysterious, so that the heart can relax into its bosom.
Forget about the day's repercussions, forget about the day's commissions, forget about the day's body can not help, in this quiet and perhaps peaceful night, everything seems to be the life of the most true flow, but also the eternal destination of life, at this moment, I am the night sky, the night sky that is me. Occasionally, the wind drifting through the face of the light Buddha, that you are lucky, because you have the honor to taste again the hand of the mother of the childhood caress, when the mother is still young, the hand is still smooth, delicate, no wrinkles and cracks, when the carving knife of the years has not carved a flower in the mother's hand.
Recently, there has been an impulse, as if there is a voice in the ear, in the heart constantly calling, go back, go back, this is not your Garden of Eden, this is not the paradise of your heart, this is not the paradise of your original dream. Go back, go home, go back to the poor, although dilapidated, but there is your dream, there will bring you to the world of parents, there are you y attached to the river, there are you can not forget the autumn cicadas, there is you haunting the flavor of the air in the dense there. Now this place, you have been so struggling, so full of helplessness, why bother to insist. Go back, there is home, the real home, not here, reinforced concrete piled up a small grid.
A while ago on the net, a female teacher's resignation "the world is so big, I want to go and see" all of a sudden fire, think about it, we are spreading this piece of information with a what is the mentality of it? Perhaps the majority of people watching the mindset, but these people watching in the depths of the heart, may also be hiding a similarly throbbing heart, just do not have the courage to face. So can only envy, can only silently put together this so that they can not look directly at the spontaneity. Mundane tired people, as in the tide of the fish, and how many people can be open, free to live and live? Just as in the daytime, knowing that non-self wish, but had to be, with a body of fatigue and wounds to reach the night, but unfortunately there is no room to appreciate the quiet and charm of the night, not to mention enjoy it.
Tonight's night is so beautiful, but also so charming, looking at the night sky, in the distance, there are a few stars in the twinkling ......
: a person's night
Today, from work earlier than usual, the sky is a little cloudy, backpack walking in the crowd on the street was a little sad, since I feel that in the The first thing I'd like to talk about is the fact that I'm not a big fan of this kind of thing.
The big cypress trees on both sides of the road with me together anxious sadness, this time to listen to a song of Jay Chou's "blue and white porcelain" taste a different Chinese style, but also some living in the mountains and old forests of the different moods of the dream dreaming outside the lonely, at this time there is no withered vines, old trees, crows, loneliness is also not far away from the old road west winds of the coldness of the thin horse, quietly, feeling the The city's prosperity is dispersed by the silence of the dust.
Walking with the clouds in the sky also faded its gorgeous clothes, it turned out that the sky has darkened down, into the night. Unconsciously walk more or will be very tired will go to my often leaning on the stone bench rest at this time the sky is also more than a few eye-catching stars so bright and clear, but then again bright can not illuminate my heart of a piece of only I know of the loneliness.
The pain is so clear that it is buried in the deepest part of my heart, and I can't get in or out. Sitting for a long time, will also hear the insects and birds of the sparse and sparse their special song and this sentimental night composed a discordant only belongs to my own "Chinese wind". In fact, today's weather is hot, just the evening breeze blowing as if a spring to wash the depths of my heart that unknown pain, but also relieved a little.
Gradually, the night got deeper. I'm not sure if I've ever been to a place like this before, but I'm sure I've been to a place like this before. Suddenly remembered the old generation of people said that people will die into the stars in the sky, I think many years later I will also be so in the death of all the wind into the sky stars. This is the way years and years and years and years and years and the starry sky as a companion, and the blue sky for the dance. The life of the world is bright and colorful. I was thinking a lot of times people pursue only reputation, interests, status, money, vanity, and not a few is to live for themselves.
The whole life is just to compare to make their own life better vanity and pass. Now this materialistic society, in front of the money love is insignificant, there is no love, there is no flower before the moon, and there is no oath of allegiance. In addition to love, friendship is also so preoccupied with not to the class than not to things, the same social value of the crowd even if there is the so-called friendship is only the value of social interests or have a deeper meaning, right? What about affection? The so-called pro-brothers clear accounts, even if a mother born so what? The fact is that there is a lot of people out there who have been killing each other since the beginning of time.
All everything is to society is the reality for the reason that people do not own heaven and earth as an excuse and lost self-measurement value. Oh, think of yourself once upon a time is also such a person. Now have what right to say others? Or maybe not everyone is like this is their own tonight think too much. But now my thoughts have changed ......
Just how many people are watching this night and how many people are reflecting on it, it is possible that they are all in the red, but also in the love of the field of drunkenness and dreaming of death or perhaps on some occasion in the rush to cut, by the desire to be interested in the incense. These are all possible?
At this moment *** In such a night I just want to have a heart of gold, forget all the trivialities of the world, with the most sincere state of mind to treat the deepest heart of their own. The same as the starry night is the tears of the departed even if it is a flash in the pan, but also this life is not regrettable, in the lights still listen to the rain fall flowers.
As if all the state of mind in not saying. Look at the spring rain, listen to the summer cicadas chirping curtains colorful, enjoy the autumn maple leaves send geese for miles, watch the winter snow embroidered mountains and rivers for miles.