走雪Walk in the Snow

周領(lǐng)順

The year repeats itself starting from the Spring Festival. As the general notion goes， the Spring Festival is part of winter and at this time what envelopes people is the strong cold. Shelleys famous line “If Winter comes， can Spring be far behind？” has helped conceive promises on spring—the promise of the February wind that shapes willow buds into leaves， the promise of thickets of winter jasmines open for spring， and the promise of the reviving magnolias that leaf after they blossom. As much as flowers are the same year after year， they must still flower tittering to the yearly spring breeze.

In the morning， looking out of the window， I found， of a sudden， all before my eyes seemed like carved ice or sculpted jade—a spotless white world burst in sight， still but three dimensioned while only a few red and green figures， who were shoveling the snow on the asphalt road that should have been deep-colored but appeared silvery white， were moving forward at a slow pace. This is a wonderful surprise. Go！ Let me go on foot to my office at the campus， looking at the snowscape on the way， feeling the tail of this winter， and listening for the sound of it.

The tail of winter should be the branches and twigs half draped in snow. The light yellow willow twiglets loaded with not a snowflake and dancing lithe and graceful with wind， at the tip of the thicker twigs were ice crystals piling up. This skill was by no means from anybody but Heaven that dropped the snowflakes so evenly， and a sense of art trickled out of it. The upright tree trunk was white on one side and black on the other; the branches， running criss-cross， had their top halves clothed in snow and their bottom halves bare in nothing; It was as if in the course of writing Chinese characters， the bottom parts of the left-falling strokes and the right-falling strokes had been shaded in， exposed in a multilevel way and bearing sweet softness. However， the color range went beyond black and white—the bushes that snow failed to cover， the green leaves of the distinguishable Chinese holly and some buds waiting to blossom in early spring， not to mention the flowers in full bloom of wintersweet. Only so artfully highlighted， can one find out Heaven is being supernaturally aesthetic.

It wasnt that cold， and the snow trodden by pedestrians were on the way to running watery. On one side of the path to the campus， there was a stream in which the water shimmered with flows of ripples and along either bank was the snow touched by no human footprints. Usually， there sat a few fishermen who hooked for their pleasure at the brook where the fish cannot be seen while they lost the patience of sitting alone in the cold snowy weather. Somewhere on the bank stood several planks that said “No fishing and High voltage”， yet what drove the fishermen away wasnt the overhead wires but the romantic encounter with this snow. How sorry！

Heaven， after taking the spring green and fall yellow off the trees， touches up the earth at times in winter， applying some “powder” to cover a hundred of flaws with all white. Of course， Heaven decides the colors while the aesthetic eye is mine. I love listening just to the wind murmur all the way， and waiting still for flowers to blossom for the result. Treading on the snow， for me， is not only a process but also a result. Enjoying the stillness of the fallen snow， I was inebriated by this painting of Heavens. Heaven is human， which is seen and sensed through the natural world that we are used and blind to.

Walking all the way to my office， I went steamy all over. On seating myself， I heard clearly a few crisp cuckoos from outside the window. They were the calls of winter ending as well as the first cries of spring. Cuckoos cuckoo wonderful cuckoos waking farmers to pick up their farming tools to work， and this piece is what I worked to put down what was in my mind.

Walking and walking on the snow way， I found myself into a promising spring.

一元復(fù)始，始于春節(jié)。但在人們的觀念上，春節(jié)還在冬天里，裹在人們身上的是濃濃的寒意。雪萊一句“冬天來了，春天還會(huì)遠(yuǎn)嗎？”不知讓多少人在冬天里萌生了對(duì)春的希冀：期盼著能裁2出細(xì)葉的“二月春風(fēng)”，期盼著一叢叢黃花迎春，期盼著先花而后葉3的粉白玉蘭。雖然年年花相似，但“桃花依舊笑春風(fēng)”。

早晨望向窗外，猛然發(fā)現(xiàn)眼前的一切都像冰雕玉砌了一般，一個(gè)潔白的靜物世界就凹凸地立在視野里，而僅有的幾點(diǎn)綠紅4，在原本深色的水泥馬路上鏟著雪，緩慢地向前挪動(dòng)。這可是猝不及防的一場驚喜，走，步行去我的工作室，看看沿途的雪景，再真切地?fù)崦话讯奈舶?，聽一聽冬的尾聲?/p>

冬的尾巴就該是那些被白雪半裹的枝枝丫丫了吧。雖然鵝黃的柳絲依舊不沾片雪、依舊隨風(fēng)婀娜，但較為粗壯的枝頭卻摞著冰晶5，這樣的大手筆，只可能出自天公之手，雪塵抖落得如此均勻，可均勻里也露出了些許的藝術(shù)氣息。直立的樹身，一側(cè)雪白一側(cè)黑;縱橫交錯(cuò)的樹枝，上半部著了雪裝，下半部顯露的還是本色衣裳;又好像寫字的同時(shí)，也把一撇一捺的陰影部分描畫，透著骨感，包裹著柔美。但顏色并不限于黑白兩種，白雪罩不住的樹叢，還能清晰地辨別出冬青的綠葉和早春待放的花苞，更莫說花開正盛的臘梅了。也只有這藝術(shù)的點(diǎn)綴，才能顯現(xiàn)超人的審美。

天氣并沒有多么地寒冷，被行人踩過的積雪，早有融水汪汪。通向?qū)W校的小路一側(cè)，有一條小河溝，水面波光粼粼，兩岸的積雪并未發(fā)現(xiàn)人的蹤跡。平日里總有那么幾個(gè)垂釣者6，在看不見魚的小河溝里釣著樂趣，今日里卻少了分“獨(dú)釣寒江雪”的耐性。河岸上立著幾塊木板，上面寫著“高壓危險(xiǎn)嚴(yán)禁垂釣”的字樣，但逼走垂釣者的不是沿岸高聳的電線，卻是這場雪的艷遇7，好不令人唏噓。

天公脫去了樹木的春綠和秋黃，卻在冬季里時(shí)不時(shí)地補(bǔ)補(bǔ)妝，施一點(diǎn)白粉，做出個(gè)“一白遮百丑”8的模樣。當(dāng)然，色彩由天定，可審美自中來。我喜歡重在過程的“且聽風(fēng)吟”，也喜歡重在結(jié)果的“靜待花開”。走在雪地里，既是過程，也是結(jié)果。感受著落雪的靜美，醉心于天公的畫作。天公有情9，這情就在人們習(xí)以為常而漠視的自然現(xiàn)象中。

步行到我的工作室，渾身熱氣騰騰。剛剛坐定，卻清晰地聽到窗外幾聲清脆的布谷鳥鳴。這是冬的尾聲，也是春的初啼，布谷聲聲，“聲聲不住勸春耕”10，遂耕此作明心志。

走雪走雪，竟走進(jìn)了萌春的時(shí)節(jié)和對(duì)春的希冀里。