Visiting Friends in the Mountains is a masterpiece published by the famous essayist Mr. Li Hanrong in the 6th issue of 1995 Prose. This article is short and pithy. It tells the story of the author's one-day tour in the forest of Shan Ye, because the scenery he saw has many novel colors with his perceptual eyes.
Original text:
When I walked out of the gate, I ran into a breeze full of dew and gardenias. Good morning, how refreshing! I feel so refreshed in my heart!
No bus, no friends, no gifts. I took a quiet path in a good mood and went to visit my friends alone.
That old bridge was the first old friend I visited. Ah, old bridge, have you stood on this stream for hundreds of years like a respected old man? How many people have you crossed? The river is rolling into the distance. You look down at the figures, fish shadows and moon shadows in the water. Years are long, sparkling, and bubbles are scattered. Only you are still there.
Walking into this forest, the birds called my name, and the dew exchanged eyes with me. I leaned against a tree and looked at the surrounding trees quietly with the eyes of the tree. Every tree is looking at me. I close my eyes and imagine myself as a tree with roots on my feet, deeply rooted in soil and rocks. My hair grows into a crown, my hands become branches, and my blood becomes sap, which rotates and flows in the rings.
Everything in this mountain, which is not my friend? I greeted them cordially: Hello, Cool Spring! Do you want to freshen up in front of me with a mirror? Hello, gurgling stream! You are reciting a poem. Are you asking me to sing with you? Hello, waterfall! Your natural golden voice and powerful tenor are too imposing. Hello, steep cliff! Deep canyons set off your tall and straight body, and your high forehead seems to be engraved with wisdom. Hello, Youyou Baiyun! Your white figure makes the sky quieter and bluer. Hey, naughty lark, what are you talking about? I guess you mean the good scenery you saw on the flight.
Pick up a stone and tap it gently. I hear the sound of ancient volcanoes erupting, and I hear the echoes of time rumbling. Picking up a fallen leaf and counting delicate textures are the mysterious palms of fate. On their way to the earth, I attended this short and meaningful ceremony. Pick a small flower and put it in my hair. At this moment, I am alone. Flowers will not laugh at me, and birds will not be ashamed of me. In the deserted valley, I put on flowers with immature eyes and quietly turned into a woman for a while.
A sudden thunderstorm, like a thousand knights roaring in the sky, and like a thousand drunken poets chanting in the clouds. The whole world is raining, and the place where I stand has no rain, but it has become a good place to watch the rain. Who can say that this is not the grace given to me by heaven and earth? Bend down and concentrate, only to find that there are many ants sheltering from the rain in the cave and holding up a few ants with their hands. They are very emotional. Ants, my little brother, are destined to be brothers in trouble.
The rain stopped. Several dogs barked in the valley, and a flock of returning birds swept over Yunling. I should go home, too. So, I waved my hand gently and bid farewell to all my friends in the mountains, bringing back a good mood, good memories and moonlight all the way. ...