The shadows of flowers on half the window are written by the moon, and a forest of wind-blown bamboos is allowed to be knocked by the snow.
At night, I dreamed that the bamboo forest in my former residence was moistened by the night rain in Bashan, and bamboo shoots were springing up in endlessly. The chirping of spring birds in the bamboo forest is exactly what I once wrote in my poem: "The spring swallows are talking to themselves in the sky in the courtyard, and the wild plum blossoms are solitary outside the building. The distant ancestors who were building houses crossed the crane, who knew the name of the hall is Swallow Palace?"
Outside the stilted building of my former residence, there is a lush bamboo forest with swaying bamboo shadows and jade branches facing the wind. The Diaojiaolou is nestled in a sea of ??pine forests and bamboos, surrounded by green mountains, surrounded by pines and bamboos, with flowing mountain springs and bamboo fences protecting the courtyard. The scenery is quiet. Outside the wooden building lie the green hills, and there are vast pine forests and seas of bamboo, with branches crossing each other. When you look through the window, you can read the moon in the shade of the pine trees, and the shadows of the bamboos are swaying. Outside the building, the mountains and streams are playing ancient music, the bamboo fence surrounds the vegetable garden, and a winding bluestone road extends to the stilted building. The picturesque environment is intoxicating, so I named my study "Songzhu Mountain" house". I once wrote a poem to praise the beautiful scenery of this paradise: "The wind and bamboo in the ancient courtyard add color to the scenery, and the old trees in front of the hall are moisturized by the rain!" The whirling bamboo shadow stretches into the window, getting close to me, and accompanies me to study and dream. The sound of bamboo shoots springing up after a spring rain is accompanied by the sound of birds, water, wind and rain. In summer, the bamboos are green, with thick shades and whirling shades. The bamboos are straight and open-minded. The autumn breeze is refreshing, and the bamboos are still green. In the winter, the snow blows on the bamboo, and the forest is full of silver paper, which is written on the snow bamboo painting. Together with the pine and bamboo, it is the "Three Friends of Winter", and it is the "Four Gentlemen" with the plum, orchid and chrysanthemum. It is so beautiful and full of poetry and painting...
Bamboo has been favored by literati since ancient times. They love bamboo, chant bamboo, plant bamboo, and eat bamboo, which is full of poetic and picturesque flavor. Chinese people have a deep connection with bamboo, which is closely related to life: bamboo chopsticks, bamboo curtains, bamboo chairs, bamboo fans, bamboo pen holders, etc. form a broad and profound bamboo culture. The ancients loved bamboo deeply. In the Jin Dynasty, there were Ruan Ji, Ji Kang and other "Seven Sages of the Bamboo Forest" who gathered people to drink and sing in the bamboo forest. In the Tang Dynasty, there were allusions to "Liu Yi of Zhuxi" by Li Bai, Kong Chaofu and others. The poem "Zhuli Pavilion" by Wang Wei, a poet of the Tang Dynasty, vividly reproduces the complex between literati and bamboo. Su Dongpo left behind the eternal saying "It is better to eat without meat than live without bamboo". "Bamboo" by Chen Yuyi, a poet from the Song Dynasty, has become an eternal poem: "The high branches have made the wind their friend, and the dense leaves can retain the snow as flowers. Last night, Chang'e was even more unrestrained, and she carried a sparse shadow across the window screen." Bamboo fills the heart, bamboo leaves are fluttering, the moon is against the cold wall, high branches and the autumn wind meet and know each other in the depths of flowers, in the golden autumn of the ground, on the sparse branches. The moving bamboo shadows of the moon overlap the mountain windows, and a beautiful picture of blending scenes appears before your eyes. Hu Zhengyan, a calligrapher and painter of the Ming Dynasty, planted ten bamboo poles in front of his studio. The study was named "Shi Bamboo Studio". "Shi Bamboo Note Book" and "Shi Bamboo Studio Painting Book" became the first monographs on woodblock prints, using the popular "Xieban" and "Shi Bamboo Studio" The "Gonghua" technology has pushed the artistic level of color overprinting woodcutting to a new peak, and pioneered the traditional woodcutting technology "Xinban" printing technology. In the Qing Dynasty, Zheng Banqiao liked to paint bamboos and chanted famous bamboo poems: "I lie down in the Yazhai and listen to the bamboos rustling, which is suspected to be the sound of suffering among the people. These young Caozhou county officials are always concerned about each branch and leaf." The image of rustling bamboo leaves is likened to The sufferings of the common people have become a symbol of a generation of upright officials.
Yuzhong District in Chongqing has the place name "Chopstick Street", and Shizhu County still has the old street of "Bamboo Market".
Tujia people love bamboo and like bamboo as a custom. Bamboo must be planted in front of and behind the house. The green mountains in my hometown naturally grow a sea of ??bamboos, including mottled bamboo, Nan bamboo, golden bamboo, Baijia bamboo, Ci bamboo, and the "national treasure" panda food "Lengjian bamboo". Bamboo growing in the ravines has become a symbol of Tujia people. Rich resources of living utensils, including bamboo baskets, dustpans, bamboo mats, flower baskets, fish baskets, bamboo chopsticks, bamboo chairs, bamboo weaving has become an essential labor skill for Tujia men. Every spring, bamboo shoots burst out of the ground in the rain. Women go up the mountain to pick them back. Under their skillful hands, the bamboo shoots are as tender as jade and become works of art: braised pork trotters with fresh bamboo shoots, braised pork ribs with fresh bamboo shoots, fresh bamboo shoots with salad, and fresh bamboo shoots. Stir-fried bamboo shoots, fried beans, etc. are stir-fried, boiled, and stewed, and have a unique flavor. Especially when they are made into dried bamboo shoots, you can eat them anytime, which has a unique flavor and doubles your appetite.
The bamboo forest in my former residence is very emotional to me. Every year, you can hear the sound of spring bamboo shoots breaking through the ground and jointing after the rain, and you can hear the rhythm of the mountain breeze shaking the windows and the rain hitting the bamboos.
I remember when I was a child, every morning, I would wear a bamboo hat on my head, roll up my trouser legs, and look for bamboo fungi in the bamboo forest in the rain. The snow-white bamboo umbrella, against the rain, would carry the intoxicating fragrance of spring bamboo shoots, crackling in the bamboo forest, and bring luck. In Hershey, I could pick up kilograms of fresh bamboo mushrooms every morning, dry them and sell them at the supply and marketing cooperative. In addition to paying for school fees, I also had enough money to buy a few comic book "little people's books" to feast my eyes on. At that time, there were no TVs, mobile phones, or WeChat. Reading "Little People's Books" was the best extracurricular reading material. After completing homework under the kerosene lamp at night, I would read several books in a row under the kerosene lamp eagerly, carrying with me the stories in the book. Fall asleep...
I remember the era of material scarcity, collective production, and relying on labor to earn cheap work points to survive. Oil, salt, firewood, and rice all depended on selling eggs and bamboo farm tools. They had to sell them secretly in the market, otherwise, they would be regarded as The "capitalistic tail" was cut off.
In the years of famine, hunger is not enough. In order to exchange for oil and salt money, my father stopped working and went home. He knitted backpacks, dustpans and other utensils late at night under the kerosene lamp, avoiding the sight of the villagers, and quietly carried them in the dark to the Qiligou Huang Company at the foot of Dafengbao Mountain to exchange for a few oil and salt coins. Money, even bamboo weaving in exchange for book tuition. My father is often busy until late at night. I once wrote an essay "Lights in the Old House at Night", recalling the past in the famine years.
In 1979, Fuling ordered a batch of "mustard bamboo shoots" in my hometown of Guantian Township. In order to earn money for my tuition, my father chose to be a logging worker and produced batches of "mustard bamboo shoots" with his team members in the deep mountains and old forests. The "mustard bamboo strips" were transported by manpower to Wanshengba, Huangshui Town, more than 20 kilometers away from home. Each round trip took 3 days and earned 5 yuan. The rich bamboo forest resources helped hungry farmers survive the famine years. Yue has also become the life-saving "benefactor" of the mountain people. Nowadays, the road has been built to the doorstep of the house, the young and middle-aged laborers have gone out to work, and the "three foreigners" have stayed behind in their homes. The nostalgia has gradually faded away, and most of the villages have become "empty villages". The fields are deserted, and the old houses are overgrown with weeds, making them look inhumane. The building is empty and even more dilapidated. Only the bamboo forest in front of the building is still full of vitality...
I also have a special liking for bamboo, and I have an unbreakable bond with it. I like to draw bamboo, I like its upright character, and I also like its noble sentiments. I often write poems about bamboo in calligraphy.
Outside my house in the county, a lot of green bamboos are also planted in the garden of the community. I send this bamboo to express my nostalgia. I regard it as the bamboo from my hometown. The study is still named "Songzhu" "Mountain House" and "Bamboo Rhyme Building", in the study room with swaying bamboo shadows and green shade entering the window, reading, writing, and calligraphy are enjoyable...
Now, no one lives in the former residence, and the bamboo forest in front of the building , fend for itself, no one picks the fresh bamboo shoots every year, and dense young bamboo grows, which is still green and lush. So I picked up the brush again and painted a picture of "Bamboo Birds in Spring", and participated in the county's Spring Festival Exhibition, and used the painting to soothe homesickness...
The bamboo forest in my former residence has grown in the depths of the years, and has always been there. My heart is swaying...