I keep thinking in my mind that since the creator gave life to the stream, she must have many feelings that are difficult to penetrate. Just like human beings, we sing in happy moments and cry in painful moments. Try to get close to the stream, like a walker with a poem in his stomach. The stream is silent. Self-righteous, speechless, not simple silence. Many times, silence is a kind of calmness, a kind of philosophy, and an innate wisdom.
How many years, 500 years, 1000 years, or even more profound ancient times has this stream named Yan Xi flowed freely in the folds of Xuefeng Mountain? In my limited perception, there are some uncertainties in the existence of all appearances in nature. Just like under the blue sky and bright sun, or under the bright moonlight, the flow of a stream has unlimited expression space. The so-called permanence is like a wisp of Shan Lan slipping through your fingers, shallow, ethereal, charming and meaningless. The stream is still, and there is a trace of silence and reserve in her heart, like a budding flower tree, waiting eagerly and silently, and a flower with intertwined hearts blooms.
The wind is the messenger of time and space, and always brings seasonal information without losing time. On both sides of the stream, red, purple and pink azaleas are dotted with clusters, which complement each other and whisper to each other. From time to time, a breeze blows, attracting a refreshing fragrance. There are many odor combinations in nature, and different regions have different performances. Following the smell of Shan Ye, we went to the forest. Not far away, we lay quietly in a pool of water, which was as clear as a mirror. Flocks of fish are dancing in the green stream. They twitched and indulged in it, as if they were staging a carnival full of wild interest.
I walked carefully to the pool, scooped up a handful of water and put it on my face. My whole body was cold. Previously, it had just experienced a rainy season, and the stream became richer and happier. The crisp sound of running water, like a beautiful sentence after another, is wittily sung in the dense forest, and each character seems to have touched the keys of life. While I was meditating, those unknown bugs were making noise, and no one wanted to be mediocre. You sang me out, and the sultry voice fell from the richness that covered the sky. "Gung, gung, gung, gung, gung, gung, gung, gung, gung, gung, gung, gung.
I chose a stone to sit down and have a rest. The cool mountain breeze blows gently from time to time, which is refreshing. At the moment, I heard the cry of the chicken and escaped from the forest. At first it was one or two, then three or four, four or five, and countless sound sources merged into a group of lively notes. Deliberate, agile, long and gradual, the whole forest is full of the harmony of young birds. This wonderful chorus evokes infinite reverie. A kind of trance, covering many meanings of my opposing walk.
Someone once said that true happiness makes you live as a beam of light. I respect this analysis of life. On the map of time, human steps are hurried and free, and they are exhausted in the pursuit again and again. Yes, we are in an era of evolution. Let yourself slow down, calm down, put aside the complexity of the world and escape into this vibrant paradise like a magnificent halo, which is the current vision.
I can't stand it. Compared with the ideal, reality seems too * * *. In the reinforced jungle where I live, one sunset evening, I opened the window lattice and overlooked the traffic jam downstairs. Colorful ribbons roared past the tear of the ambulance, which made people dizzy and at a loss. Fast and slow, static and dynamic are all chapters that cannot be ignored in the long river of life. Compromise oneself, blind meditation and quiet life are unavoidable luxuries for modern people.
After sitting quietly for a long time, I got up and went upstream. Not far ahead, a broad forest belt jumps into your eyes. The depression between these two mountains, after years of siltation and natural selection, has flourishing trees. Pine, cypress, ebony, mahogany, purple wood, maple ... They are invited in groups, standing side by side, as if struggling, climbing upwards and soaring into the sky, perfectly interpreting the height of life.
I slowed down in time to adjust my fast heartbeat. Stop and stand under a huge camphor tree. At this time, there was a thin light pouring down through the cracks in the leaves, like broken silver, with bright colors everywhere. I stretched out my hand and touched the dark and rough skin of camphor tree, as if combing the mood of a tree immersed in the years. The tree is a transcendent benevolent person, even if a noble person is in front of it, he must be completely convinced. People live for a hundred years and return to dust. The tree has lived for a thousand years, or even longer, and still has a simple heart and no desire to protect future generations.
Unlike the crisp sound of water, this is a rustling sound. In search of fame, a light gray squirrel jumped over a long dead leaf. Then, it stopped alert and looked around. Make sure there is no danger, swish, jump and climb a vigorous pine tree. Obviously, the squirrel standing on high has discovered my existence, burning with anger and flashing disdain. I know very well that it takes time for a native to accept a reckless intruder. Time can run everything in.
I am determined to move on. A difficult journey, in front of me, presents a bush. Dense and dense, a thick fog spread, accompanied by the roar, sounded the heart drum. After a short scare, I approached curiously. It turned out that there was a waterfall hidden in this dense forest. The huge gap makes this clean stream fall from a cliff more than ten meters high, with a magnificent posture.
Nature is ingenious, creating a gorgeous turn of the stream. Because of the cliff, the stream suddenly sublimates, because the stream and the cliff highlight the height; Magnificent mountains, gentle water, as close as lips and teeth, blend with each other, building a harmonious fit between nature and water.
All the walking is just to find a reasonable result. Climbing the cliff path, I tried my best. After more than 30 minutes, I finally found the source of the stream-a reservoir called Yingying Po. Like all reservoirs, there are green water and bright waves here. Standing on the majestic reservoir dam, I searched everywhere, but unfortunately I didn't find an eagle, not even a slight shadow. Fierce, vigorous, scary, soaring in the air, there is nothing to hide from all my imagination about eagles. Suddenly, a sense of frustration, like late autumn, came to my mind. I moved to the present, a pile of deep blue distant mountains, cold, abrupt and firm, just like an old man's face full of years.
Walking along the dam, a bumpy Panshan road stretches. I stumbled back to the stream at the foot of the mountain. Turn around and go back to the original point. In the face of the vast nature, people's concentration is limited, so limited that it is dwarfed. Throughout their lives, people can't get out of their own Fiona Fang. From this point of view, compared with me, the stream is lucky, all the way through the forest, through the village, embedded in the river of time, and reached the future beyond my vision.
When I was about to drive away, I saw the stream getting brighter and brighter, giving off charming brilliance. The stream is still silent, only the sound of running water, like a soft melody, haunts my ears. I think the stream must be happy. With the company of the mountain, she is not lonely. I believe that every stream will have its own distance as long as you have a dream and keep going forward.