With a little leisure, as long as the weather is fine, the wild mountains are my leisure paradise, especially in winter. In Shan Ye in winter, there is no hustle and bustle of spring, impetuous bustle of autumn, graceful and restrained summer, sinking tide, insects and snakes hibernating, and there is no need to worry about the hot, wet and biting pain of the mattress. Its charm is between elegance and lightness, warmth and tranquility, just in line with the leisure state of mind.
Along the winding path, or climbing pine and bamboo, a warm mountain breeze, with the fresh fragrance of turpentine, blows my sleeve, blows my cheek and caresses my chest. You can walk slowly, but slowly, you can stand by and watch the trees, listen to the spring pouring down, tap on the thin rocks and make a drumming sound. You can also sit by the stone and watch the ancient pagodas crisscross Shan Ye, showing the charm of dragons and phoenixes, the fairy posture of cranes, the flying of birds, the surrounding clouds, the words of people in the clouds and the crows' chirping. In my leisure time, I think of Li Bai singing Du Mu, and feel that every grass, tree, grass and tree in this wild mountain has been influenced by writing and ink, and I am reading the famous sentences of literati with incomparable fresh interest. Even the rocks on that slope are unwilling to be lonely and sink, or they are human beings or birds and beasts, giving birth to thousands of aura. Listening attentively is poetic rhythm, poetic taste and poetic. So, I jumped up and climbed up with the smooth, long and small melodies of Tang and Song Ci.
When I reached the top of the mountain, I sweated, took a few breaths of floral fragrance, and the barrier that had accumulated in my chest for a long time was gone. I felt refreshed, spirited and condescending. Everything is in my eyes, and an open-minded one is about to fly! Then, find a flat sunny place, lie down on your back, stretch your limbs, stare at the warmth of the earth and the geese and eagles flying in the caress of winter sunshine, and listen to the pentium of Songtao Malik sweeping from the depths of history. The aura of the mountain is as sweet as wine, echoing nine intestines and nourishing your heart. In a sense, you can't help feeling a little proud and arrogant. There are also different meanings-why don't people who are rushing about in the bustling city walk, sit and lie down in this barren hills, bask in the sun so comfortably, breathe a refreshing breath so freely, and enjoy the scenery so quietly, instead of being crowded in a karaoke ballroom and learning to scream and sing with a "star" accent so affectedly, instead of being saved in a nightclub.