(a)

The temperature warmed up further, the ice slope on the roof continued to recede, and the sound of melting ice was heard under the eaves all night. You can even go out for a walk at night.

Various animals in the forest are also active.

After sunset, the forest path is filled with smoke, and a pair of flower-tailed hazelnut pheasants fly up every short distance. The whole forest was chattering in the twilight.

The flower-tailed hazelnut in the early spring season is full of passion for communication. They especially like to listen to the sound of the flute.

We often amuse them with it.

Whenever Mr. Shen played the silver flute in the camp, the flower-tailed hazel pheasants would sway from the snow and ice, stop in front of the gate of our camp and on the earthen wall, tilt their heads and listen for a while, and make all kinds of whispers and comments, in harmony with the sound of the flute.

Sometimes, they run so close that they are almost within reach!

I'm really touched that they trust us so much.

In the night sky, the thick clouds drift away, and the stars are brilliant again.

At night, the forest becomes murderous when the cold dissipates. The owl spends his days in the depths of the woods, singing arias in four or three beats, lamenting the impermanence of life.

When Mr. Yichen heard this poignant aria, he would sigh with emotion: "As a beast, it is rare to have a good death." ”

With the arrival of spring, the traditional hunting season is about to begin again.

The number of tourists in the town is gradually increasing.

The depression and tranquility of winter are gradually fading away with the wind.

The vigor of spring air also attracted me to put down my desk writing and devote myself more to outdoor activities.

Mr. Shen always felt that my whole harsh winter cat spent too much time in the hut to write. He reminded me repeatedly, "Verorica, you're here to camp for a vacation, don't always work as hard as you do in your office." ”

He had a point. I also think that these days of writing don't look like vacation life.

- However, writing this story, for me, is not something that the word "work" entails.

It's a lifelong wish of mine. It is a sacrament that I sacrifice myself.

(b)

I like to walk around town with Mr. Yichen out of the chalet on a peaceful full moon night.

We chatted casually, gazing at the moonlight and the snowy fields washed by the moonlight.

Yichen was very emotional, and the time contained in the various changes from winter to spring flew by.

He told me that the ancient books say: You plant a piece of land for six years, and let it rest in the seventh year, so that in seven years, and after seven rounds, you will reach your fifty years old, and that year is called the Jubilee.

He said: "Before you know it, childhood, adolescence, youth, and middle age have all passed. My sons are about to grow into young men. And I'm about to reach my jubilee. ”

Yes, even I have lived past the years you died.

I'm older than you now.

We stood on a high slope in the town and looked into the distance.

On the outskirts of the city at night, there are three layers of light: blue stars above, large dusk lights of residential areas in large cities on the horizon, and almost red pots of fishermen on the Winter Lake nearby.

The lake is about to melt.

Mr. Yichen said that these days, he is reading Jack. The wilderness of London is also rereading Robinson Crusoe, reliving the times when humans and the wilderness coexisted in harmony, and I feel a lot of emotion in my heart.

He said: "I don't know when we became incompatible with nature, denied that we were the children of nature and a tiny part of nature, and wanted to be the masters of nature, trampling nature under our feet, plundering and ravaging it at will." ”

Yi Chen said: "You see, the lights of the city over there are getting denser and brighter. Cities are getting bigger and bigger, and the primeval wilderness that has been left to us has become more and more rare. ”

"For example, the original United States was carved out of a variety of primitive wildernesses, but now most of these primitive wildernesses are gone," he said. ”

I said, "yes." In the past, the antlers of stag used to decorate the magnificent castles of emperors, but nowadays, it is becoming more and more difficult to see strong and beautiful antlers in the woods. ”

I thought of the fawn we had fed in Beausan, with its big twinkling eyes and long eyelashes.

Yi Chen said: "Nowadays, no one can see the boundless primeval forests and countless towering trees that are thousands of years old in the Han Dynasty, and no one can see the steppes with tall grass in the era of Genghis Khan. It is hard to imagine how the sea of flowers of the steppe at that time caressed the stirrups of the cavalry. At that time, there were hundreds of species of grassland plants, many of which were beautiful and gorgeous, and some of them were really beautiful, and now we have no chance to see them, let alone our children and grandchildren. A town like Winterlake, which lives in peace in the embrace of nature, is rapidly being destroyed. ”

I said, "People don't understand the value of wilderness to human life. Cities are devouring wilderness at will, and industrialization and modernization are destroying everything at a rapid pace. But people don't realize that we can't create another wilderness no matter what. We can only destroy and destroy, not create and build. ”

Yi Chen said: "When the wilderness disappears, it is the day when humanity is extinguished. ”

(c)

Mr. Yichen and I both agree with this view: looking up at the wild geese flying south is more important than watching TV and mobile phone screens. Watching a pulsatilla flower bloom is at least as precious as having freedom of speech.

However, those who hold this view are already in the minority.

We and our views will be mercilessly crushed by the so-called rolling wheels of historical development.

Like the natural environment on our planet, it has become a martyr for the so-called economic achievements of humanity.

With a sad heart, I made such not optimistic expectations.

I miss the ancient world and the innocence of the past.

I don't like the high-rise buildings and wolves in the world today, and the devastation on the surface of the planet caused by modern civilization and technological development.

But I can only express my inner remembrance through writing.

It is only through writing that I can return to that vanishing era again.

(iv)

"Taiping" is a soulful elegy.

It is far from being an elegy for our love, but also an elegy for that era when the forest is wide, the four seasons are distinct, benevolence and righteousness exist, and the heart is still warm.

I don't think we're in the midst of a process of historical progress.

The abundance of material life is not the same as the abundance of the soul.

Although our living conditions are much more convenient and comfortable than in previous times, this convenience and comfort comes at a heavy cost.

One of the costs is that our souls are withering, becoming more and more empty and pale, fragile and indifferent.

We are becoming the enemy of all things.

I am also trapped in the deep loneliness of being the enemy of all things.