Tile
The deepest memory of tiles is the scene of building a house and lifting tiles. When I was young, I admired the coordinated movements of building a house and lifting tiles. The ground workers stacked different numbers of tiles into a high pile, lifted them up and threw them vigorously. The people on the scaffolding steadily caught the tiles and placed them on the scaffolding. Page after page of tiles, in the hands of the craftsmen, sit firmly on the mud. This process is called Wawa here. The first word "Wa" is a verb, and the second word "Wa" is a noun. Wawa, the change in part of speech is defined by tone, which is really wonderful. The wonderful thing is that the tiles on the roof were lined up in a square array of blue tiles for a day and a half. From then on, these tiles, working together, began to protect the family from wind and rain.
The most beautiful memory of Wa is related to rain and snow. The erratic spring rain falls on the tiles with the breeze, just like the intimacy of willow buds and peach buds kissing the rain and dew at this time. The charm is like Li Shangyin's poem: "A spring dream of rain often floats on the tiles, and the spirit wind is not satisfied with the flag." The summer rain is rapid and the autumn rain is continuous. When the bright silver raindrops shot down like arrows, the tiled roof was like a drum being beaten with hammers, making a crackling noise. Immediately, the rain poured down along the tile ridges. Amidst the vast water and sky, a glittering water curtain hung down from the eaves. The charm of this, in my limited reading, I have not found an expression that can arouse my excitement. When it snows in winter, the snow feathers fall silently on the tiles. The feathers are connected one after another, layer by layer, and gradually become thicker, forming a huge quilt, which tightly covers the roof. On melting snow days, the weather can get extremely cold. As the saying goes: If it snows and it doesn't get cold, it turns into cold snow. During this period, the snow, water and tiles were like a lingering couple, inseparable. On the row of eaves tiles at the far end of the roof, there is a hook on the tile, which is called dripping water. The melted snow water was about to fall down, but it was condensed by the dripping water and turned into ice. In the biting cold wind, the ice on the dripping water lengthened little by little, forming ice hangings. On the third and fifth days, the tile roof will reveal the icy blue color of the green tiles. Looking at the ice hanging glued to the eaves reminds me of Bai Juyi's poem: "The ice on the pool is glued to the bottom of the boat at dawn, and the snow on the building is clear and the tile ditch is exposed."
The melting snow is cold. That winter day when the tiled house melted into snow gave me the warmest memory. On the day when the snow melted that year, my mother called and warned me not to save money! Burn more stoves to warm the room. I said, it’s warm. My mother said, today, when I went to the street and passed through your door, your row house was so cold inside. I was surprised. My mother didn’t enter the house and didn’t go to the neighbor’s house. How could I know it wasn’t as warm as the neighbor’s house? Mother went on to say that the snow on other people's roofs has almost melted away, but the snow on your roof is still thick and white. Putting down the phone, I hurried out of the house and looked at the roof. Sure enough, there was white snow on my roof. I'm amazed at how much a mother loves her son. At that time, I felt a warm wave surge in my heart.
The most sentimental memory of Wa is the legend of Wa’s burial. On November 13, 2014, my siblings and I went home to find the exact burial places of our grandparents and great-grandparents. Several clan relatives also arrived at the ancestral tomb site after learning the news. Here, it was mentioned that in the past, when people were poor, if a person died and the family could not afford a coffin, they would wrap themselves in mats and cover their faces with tiles for burial. A grandmother from my family said that a few years ago, an ancient tomb was found in the north of our village, and the face of the deceased was covered with a tile.
The most regrettable memory of tiles is caused by a tile collector. June 9, 2007, was my country's second Cultural Heritage Day. During this period, Sun Chunfeng, who was called the "Foolish Old Man of Cultural Rescue" by Feng Jicai, told a TV reporter: He had spent 10 years witnessing the history of Junxian County. The disappearance of famous cultural cities. Sun Chunfeng is a tile collector. It is said that his collection of tiles is stored in three large warehouses, of which nearly half come from my hometown: Jun County, a national historical and cultural city. It is really sad that when we throw these old tiles away as garbage, Sun Chunfeng collects them like treasures. Over the years, Sun Chunfeng's words would pop up from time to time and prick my sensitive nerves.
In my field of vision, there is another friend who has strong feelings and deep understanding of Wa. Last year, Mr. Wenming showed me a copy of "Washe Yanzhuang". This was a copy he designed for others on his own initiative. The copy is not only rich in pictures and text, but also a poem and a piece of fine prose. Reading it triggered a series of associations in me. It is a bit regrettable that in a section of Vason's text, it is marked "temporarily missing to be filled". I thought at that time, the scene in Vasong is really hard to find! Now, on the roof of an ancient house, I saw a tile pine tree. Fortunately, Mr. Cheng Hu took a photo of Vasong in time. At this time, I remembered a sentence in "Washe Village": "Washe is a nostalgic place where you can talk quietly."
Where to find the tinkling spring water
< p> In the early 1980s, just after the self-defense counterattack against Vietnam ended, the song "Spring Water Ding Dong Ring" was sung by our troops. "Spring water, spring water, wherever you go, you go, singing songs and playing the strings to flow into the distance..." We soldiers who have gone through the blood and fire of war sing the words "Don't think about me and don't think about home." , a kind of patriotic and homesickness as strong as distiller's yeast will be brewed by the tinkling spring water, and excited tears will quietly climb up the young faces.It was then that I had a special affection for spring water.
The year before last year, in order to prepare for the book "Junxian Piebald Stones in Imperial Mausoleums", I followed the stone carving artist Zhang Xueying to Shanhua Mountain to collect scenery. When we passed the Long Feng Canal, Xueying said with regret that in the first 20 years, springs were everywhere here. .
Xueying’s home is in Zhengchang Village, Shandong Province, Shanhua. Two years later, I inspected ancient villages and came to Zhangwa Village at the southwest foot of Shanhua Mountain. When we walked to a ditch shaded by green trees in the village, the director of the village committee introduced that this spring ditch used to have constant clear water and there were many springs in the ditch. There is a hot spring in the southern section. When the weather is cold, women often wash their clothes by the steaming spring. What a beautiful scene. Unfortunately, the spring water has stopped flowing for more than 20 years.
This north-south spring river runs through the middle of the village, dividing Zhangwa Village into east and west Zhangwa. In the two Zhangwa villages, every male has the surname Zhang, and they are from the same clan, and they are all descendants of Ming general Zhang Hao. Zhang Jixian introduced: Back then, our ancestor Zhang Hao moved his family here when he saw that the mountains and rivers here were beautiful, the land was fertile, and the low-lying terrain was convenient for hiding and recuperating. It was also next to the elephant trunk on the sunny side of Shanhua Mountain, and it was a place with excellent Feng Shui. here.
Speaking of springs, I learned that there used to be a spring in the yard of a family in Zhangwa Village. Now, although the spring water has stopped flowing, the spring pool is still there. We came here immediately. This was once a magical spring. The owner introduced to us at the spring pool: In the past, on the New Year's Eve and the New Year's Eve on the 29th afternoon, the spring water changed from clear to milky white. This lasted until the next day on the New Year's Day afternoon, when the spring water changed from milky white to milky white. become clear. Why does such a magical phenomenon occur? The spring stopped flowing 20 years ago, leaving behind a secret that can never be cracked. Because of its magic, the owner is in awe of this spring and doesn't usually drink the water, let alone wash and wash things with it. To this day, incense is offered to this spring on the first and fifteenth day of every month. I saw that under the southern end of the stone slab on the west side of the spring pool, there was a square iron box used as an incense burner. In the box, there were incense ashes that had been burned recently. The host said, yesterday was the first day of the Lunar New Year, and incense was burned. In front of me, a peach tree in the spring pool and a few cucumber trees beside the pool are growing happily. Looking at the sparse shadows swaying in the spring pool, I can't help but think of Yang Wanli's poem: "The spring eye silently cherishes the trickle, and the shade of the tree shines on the water and loves the clear and soft water." It's a pity. The strange thing is that when you are near a strange spring, it is difficult to find its shadow.
Seeing the spring pool, I can't help but think of the happy spring in Baisi Village. More than 30 years ago, when Baisi Village was building a diversion canal irrigation project in the west of the village, God may have been moved, but a large spring was dug out during the construction. Put a 12-inch water pump into the spring, and water more than a thousand acres of land without drying out. The villagers named this spring "Xingfu Spring" and the elevated channel "Xingfu Canal". Sadly, in the mid-1980s, the Xingfu Spring completely ran out of water.
One afternoon when rain fell on the window, I was flipping through the "Jun County Chronicles" of the Ming and Qing dynasties, and unexpectedly discovered the gushing spring water in the yellow pages of the ancient scroll, and heard the tinkling sound of the spring water between the lines.
Ming Jiajing's "Junxian Chronicle·Mountains and Rivers·Shanhua Mountain" records: "There are two out of seventy springs at the foot of the mountain."
Qing Kangxi's "Junxian Chronicle·Mountains and Rivers" has a special "spring" Mu said: "The Baijin Spring is at the foot of Zijin Mountain, and there is a prefect Xu Hongzhongming; the threshold spring is at the foot of Shanhua Mountain, and there are two out of seventy. "Erya" says: 'The threshold spring is coming out, and the one that is coming out, There have been too many floods in recent years, and only half of them remain. The big springs and small springs in Jingjiazhai, Zhangjiawa, Wangfengyuan, Dongyangjian, Xiyangjian and Datun are the most famous.
The spring in my hometown also has a process of gradually being blocked. After closing the county records, I told my melancholy to a literary friend who worked in the county records office. Unexpectedly, my literary friend gave me a surprise. He said that there may still be a spring in Hougongtang Village in our county. I immediately contacted the people of the Hougongtang Village Committee, and I got gratifying approval.
Hougongtang Village is on the east bank of Qihe River. A villager told me that the springs are all on the west bank of the river. From what I heard, there are quite a few springs. But when we arrived at the west coast, we came to the largest hot spring. Due to the severe drought, the water in Qi stopped flowing. The spring also stopped flowing a few days ago. The villagers led us to look for other larger springs along the coast. But when I arrived, I was still disappointed. Go further. Walk.
On the river beach, we finally found the spring. surprise.
It is a spring. Four. Three larger ones and one smaller one. The gurgling spring water is pushing hard and pushing the sand, and it is constantly surging. The surging springs merge into pools and streams, flowing to the dry Qihe River bed in the east.
I finally found the spring in my hometown, although I didn’t hear the tinkling sound of the spring.
The villagers introduced it in an unquestionable tone: As long as there is no drought, the hot springs and the larger springs will all have water. I nodded and made an appointment to visit the spring again at the right time. Looking at the one-meter-wide water channel covered with pebbles in the hot spring, I thought that as long as the water from this spring surges and the water hits the pebbles, it will make a tinkling sound, singing songs, playing the strings, and flowing into the distance...
See the world in Baisi Village
Have you seen the world? What is the world like? Almost no one can clearly explain what "the world" actually is. People often encourage newcomers: Go out and see the world. People are also prone to ridicule those who have little knowledge: they have not seen the world. Even those who have traveled all over the country and traveled across the sea, except Wushan, can hardly be said to have seen the world.
Unexpectedly, I actually saw the world in Baisi Village of this county.
Continuously conduct inspections of ancient villages.
On this day, I came to Baisi Village, saw the historical districts and ancient houses, left the Jade Emperor Temple, and came to Longxing Temple. An old lady who lives next door to the east of the temple asked us as she led us into the gate of Longxing Temple: Have you ever seen the world? Several of us said we had never seen it. The old man said that there are worlds on both sides of the main hall door in front. Looks of surprise jumped onto our faces almost at the same time, and our pace quickened.
The world, is this the world? I asked the old man and got a positive answer. I paused in front of the two worlds, feeling surprised but also doubtful, relieved and confused. These are two stone tablets from the early Ming Dynasty. They have a unique shape. The thickness of the tablet is 35 centimeters, the width of the tablet is 40 centimeters, and the height is 77 centimeters. The base, body and cap of the monument are all 1.66 meters high, and the two-way monument looks very simple and heavy. The inscription on the left is: The three emperors of Pangu were the emperor Fuxi, the earth emperor Shennong, and the human emperor Xuanyuan. The inscription on the right is: The husband temple must be used to cultivate blessings and pursue Taoism. It started in the middle of the Yongping year of the Han Dynasty and changed with the times. The Longxing Temple was built in the Kaiyuan period of the Tang Dynasty. It was destroyed by repeated wars and wars. It was rebuilt in the Gengwu period of the Song Dynasty. When the Yuan Dynasty was changed to the Yuan Dynasty, the three couplets in the back hall were rebuilt. The Buddha statue is majestic, golden and green, and is transformed into a scenic spot. It is engraved on the stone and will be remembered forever.
Why is this the way the world is? I asked myself. After studying the inscriptions, I gradually gained a sense of the world. Respect Pangu, the founder of the world, pay homage to the Three Emperors and the Holy Ancestors of China, recognize the source and know the origin, act without dishonoring the ancestors, and never regret oneself. The inscription on the left may tell all living beings the first level of seeing the world. The inscription on the right discloses the history of the spread of Buddhism in China and the history of the destruction and reconstruction of Longxing Temple. It seems to be a revelation to all living beings: Only the collision and blending of foreign culture and domestic culture can enhance the level of civilization. With this magnanimity, it is the second level of seeing the world.
I took a few steps back and stood in the middle of the main hall of Longxing Temple. With piety, I carefully looked at the world in front of me. When my eyes moved from the monument cap on the left to the monument cap on the right, I let out a pleasant surprise. The stele cap on the left has slight chisel marks on the rough bluestone. Isn't this a tall and tall mountain? Yes, mountains. On the right, my eyes turned eagerly to the stele cap on the right: the image is natural, with almost no chiseling marks on the stone, and a concave shape in the middle. I was pleasantly surprised: yin and yang. Mountains are yang and valleys are yin. The west is yin and the east is yang. All things have yin and yang, and "when yin and yang are in harmony, all things will be harmonious" ("Book of Rites: Jiao Te Sheng"). I remembered what the old man said: Two monuments represent the world. Alone, it is no longer the world. The world, the world. The combination of the two monuments makes the world famous. You can really see the world in Baisi Village! How many codes of information about the world do those two worlds possess?
Baisi Village is indeed an ancient village with rich cultural heritage. The ancient village is located on the hillside of Baisi. Legend has it that the first emperor of Qin passed by here and stopped to worship Shaohao, the god of Huashan Mountain in Xiyue. The mountain was named Baisi Mountain, and the village was named after the mountain: Baisi Village. At the end of the Qing Dynasty and the beginning of the Ming Dynasty, it was renamed Baisi Village. In the village, an unmarked stele was unearthed in the 1990s, which was said to have been erected by Qin Shi Huang after he offered sacrifices to the White Emperor.
This is the world of Baisi Village. Friends from other places may not agree with this world, which is reasonable. The world, the world. The face of the world. Every place has its own world. Otherwise, why do people always say that: go out and see the world?
It may be difficult for a person to understand the world clearly if he spends his whole life.