I don't have peace of mind these days. Sitting in the yard to enjoy the cool tonight, I suddenly remembered that the lotus pond I walk through every day must have a different look in the light of the full moon. The moon gradually rose, and the laughter of the children on the road outside the wall could no longer be heard. My wife was patting Runer in the house and humming a sleeping song vaguely. I quietly put on my coat and took it to the door and went out.
Along the lotus pond, there is a zigzag small coal dust road. This is a secluded road; few people walk during the day, and it is lonelier at night. On all sides of the lotus pond, there are many trees, lush and lush. On one side of the road are some willows and some trees whose names are unknown. At night when there is no moonlight, the road is gloomy and scary. Tonight is very good, although the moonlight is still faint.
I was the only one on the road, walking with my hands behind my back. This piece of heaven and earth seems to be mine; I also seem to be beyond my usual self and into another world. I love lively and calm; I like to live in groups and I love to be alone. Like tonight, a person in this boundless moon, can think of anything, can not think of anything, then feel that he is a free man. What you must do and what you must say during the day can be ignored now. This is the beauty of solitude. I'll take advantage of the boundless lotus moonlight.
Above the zigzag lotus pond, what I hope is the leaves of the field. The leaves are high out of the water, like the skirts of dancers in Tingting. Among the layers of leaves are dotted with white flowers, some blooming gracefully, others blooming shyly, like pearls, stars in the blue sky, or beauties fresh out of the bath. The breeze sent wisps of fragrance, like a faint song from a distant building. At this time, the leaves and flowers also had a slight tremor, like lightning, suddenly passed over the other side of the lotus pond. The leaves were close side by side, which seemed to have a ripple mark of agglomeration. Under the leaves is the pulse of running water, covered, can not see some colors, but the leaves are more elegant.
The moonlight, like running water, fell quietly on this leaf and flower. A thin green mist floated in the lotus pond. Leaves and flowers seem to have been washed in milk, but also like a dream in a veil. Although it is a full moon, there is a faint cloud in the sky, so it cannot be illuminated, but I think it is good to have a sound sleep, and a nap is also unique. The moonlight shone through the trees, and the bushes above fell jagged mottled shadows, corrugated like ghosts, while the sparse shadows of the curved willows seemed to be painted on the lotus leaves. The moonlight in the pond is not uniform, but light and shadow have a harmonious melody, such as a famous song played on the Fanling.
There are trees on all sides of the lotus pond, far and near, high and low, and willows are the most. The trees surrounded a lotus pond; only on one side of the path, there were a few gaps, as if left for the moonlight. The color of the tree is overcast, and at first glance it looks like a cloud of smoke, but the richness of the willow can be seen in the smoke. Vaguely on the treetops are the distant mountains, which are only careless. There are one or two lights leaking from the cracks in the trees, and the listless ones are the eyes of sleepy people. The busiest things at this time are the cicadas in the trees and the frogs in the water, but the hustle and bustle is theirs, and I have nothing.
I suddenly remembered the thing of picking lotus. Picking lotus is an old custom in the south of the Yangtze River, which seems to have existed a long time ago, and it became popular in the six dynasties, which can be roughly known from poetry. The lotus pickers are young women who go there swinging boats and singing gorgeous songs. There are not many lotus pickers, but there are also people who watch lotus pickers. It is a lively season, but also a flirtatious season. It is well said in the Fu of picking Lotus by Emperor Liang Yuan:
So the witch boy Yuannu allowed her to sail in a boat; she returned to her head and passed the feather cup; she moved and hung the algae, and the ship was about to move and set sail. In the early summer and spring, when the leaves are tender and blooming, they smile for fear of touching their clothes, and they are afraid of tipping the boat and converging their trains.
We can see the scene of playful travel at that time. This is really an interesting thing, but it is a pity that we are no longer blessed with it.
Then I remembered the sentence in Xizhou qu:
In the autumn of picking lotus in Nantang, the lotus flower is over the head; the lotus seed is as clear as water when it bows its head. If there are lotus pickers tonight, the lotus flowers here can be counted as more than human heads; it will not do without some shadow of running water. This makes me miss Jiangnan in the end. Thinking in this way, when I suddenly looked up, I didn't realize that it was already in front of my own door; I pushed the door gently and there was no sound, and my wife had been asleep for a long time.
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