周領(lǐng)順

今兒是個(gè)艷陽(yáng)天，持續(xù)多日的陰霾一掃而光，連心情也跟著晴2了起來(lái)。雖然屋外麗日高照，但冷颼颼的涼意在室內(nèi)還有“襲”人之感3。不過(guò)，這天氣，這氣溫，倒適合做一小時(shí)的“長(zhǎng)途跋涉”，因此我決定走著去我的工作室4。

穿棉衣，系圍巾，蹬上運(yùn)動(dòng)鞋，8點(diǎn)準(zhǔn)時(shí)走起。

一開(kāi)始的十來(lái)分鐘里，室外的冷氣包裹全身，避之不及。我用圍巾罩上口鼻，踏在平坦的小路上，閉起眼，走上個(gè)十來(lái)步5不成問(wèn)題，這滋味，真有點(diǎn)兒窩在被窩兒的感覺(jué)。睜睜眼，再作十來(lái)步的判斷，若想“睡”，就再一次把眼睛瞇起。半個(gè)鐘頭過(guò)后，棉衣的扣子就得解開(kāi)它幾個(gè)，隨衣角在風(fēng)中抖動(dòng)6;圍巾松弛下來(lái)，隨意搭在肩上，“藝術(shù)”范兒不差毫厘。步子并不拖沓，反而有些輕盈歡快。

路邊成片的草地，有深綠的，有枯黃的，上面都蒙著一層薄霜，偶爾踏足，感覺(jué)平時(shí)的軟土，忽然變得鐵板般堅(jiān)硬異常。大地都凍起來(lái)了，然而一些小草依然堅(jiān)韌如初，似乎不情愿褪去深愛(ài)的綠裝。幾片小樹(shù)林，以冬青和香樟為主，在它們身上，幾乎看不出季節(jié)的變化，只是感覺(jué)綠得更加深沉，全沒(méi)了初春時(shí)才有的嫩樣。

途經(jīng)一條小河，還是那么婀娜，河邊種著垂柳，本該是殘枝敗柳的時(shí)節(jié)，現(xiàn)在看來(lái)，倒有些綠意盎然。柳條依舊，綠中泛黃，從顏色上看不出是深冬還是初春的景象，只是那些葉子露出了端倪。大一些的，是熟透了的，黃中帶點(diǎn)褐色;小一些的，綠得尚可，有著春的氣息，畢竟初春時(shí)節(jié)的柳葉不大，綠中夾雜著鵝黃。我此時(shí)哈著熱氣，渾身暖意融融，走著看，看著走，若不是對(duì)那些大個(gè)兒柳葉仔細(xì)端詳，依然能感受到春滿小河一樣。

此時(shí)，植物的季節(jié)更替模糊了我的雙眼，但河面上的小鳥(niǎo)，卻蹣跚于刺眼的冰面之上。小河結(jié)著冰，只是冰不厚，有植物歪立和根系盤(pán)桓的地方，薄如蟬翼，有水汪汪。灰白相間的小鳥(niǎo)是在覓食吧，可憐的，冰面上哪有什么好吃的呢！還是那些大黑鳥(niǎo)老成了些，它們成群在草棵里覓食，甚至不懼路人，呼嘯著飛臨小河時(shí)，也多是撿拾河邊草叢里深秋留下的籽粒;它們偶爾在冰面上走一走，似乎是在其他體型較小的同類面前耀武揚(yáng)威、展示氣場(chǎng)。

及至校園，看到零零星星的雪堆未及化盡，散落于草地之上。它們是學(xué)生們冬日的杰作，可愛(ài)的雪人現(xiàn)在早已沒(méi)有了“人”樣，但能想象7到當(dāng)時(shí)學(xué)生們的嬉戲和歡樂(lè)，此時(shí)化作了雪堆的記憶，也讓我對(duì)深冬如夢(mèng)初醒。我走在冬天里，卻走出了春意，收獲了秋的果實(shí)。

The sun was shining today， sweeping away days’ gloominess and bringing forth cheery feelings. The sun high up in the sky， people were still subject to the inside cold raid. However， the weather and temperature were good for a one-hour trek—I decided to go to my office on foot.

Putting on my warm clothes， my scarf， and my sneakers， I left home at eight.

The first ten minutes found me attacked by the freezing cold as if I had nothing on. Covering my mouth and nose with my scarf， treading on the pavement， I thought it wouldn’t be a problem to walk several steps with my eyes closed. This made me feel as though I had been still under my quilt. I opened my eyes and walked a few steps; if I wanted to ‘sleep’， I would close my eyes another time. After half an hour， I needed to undo two or three buttons and left them flapping in the air. My scarf loosened down， and I just let it be around my neck—A 100 percent artist， wasn’t I？ Instead of being sluggish， my steps were light and merry.

The roadside grass， deep green or yellowish， was thinly coated with frost. When accidentally stepping on it， I felt the ever soft soil had got as firm as a rock. While the earth was frozen， some grass was as tenacious as before， unwilling to shed the beloved green. The woods， mainly Chinese holly and camphor trees， were found with no seasonal changes， but with the green going even deeper， losing the tender tone that spring would present.

The river I often go across， along with the willows on the riverside， was graceful. It should have been a season with little green， but at this instant it felt springy. The wicker， as good as before， yellowish green， could not tell it is mid-winter or early spring if the leaves had not unfolded themselves. The large ones， grownup， were brownish yellow; the small ones， light green， gave out a sense of spring for the early spring-time leaves， green with light yellow， were not large. Now I blew on my hands， feeling warm. I walked as I looked， and looked as I walked， still feeling it was a springtime river if I did not scrutinize the large leaves.

At the moment， my eyes could not assure me of it being winter until I saw birds staggered on the dazzling ice. The river was mainly covered with ice， which was thin though and even thinner where plants and their roots twisted themselves and water had welled up above the ice. The birds， gray and white， must have been looking for food. Poor things！ How could they find edibles on ice？ Shrewd were the big black birds that hunted for food in groups on the grass， unafraid of pedestrians， and whistled down to the river only to look on the riverside grass for grains left during harvest time. They， once in a while， stepped on the ice and had a walk， swaggering to outweigh other birds smaller than themselves.

At the campus， a small number of snow piles， scattered on the grass， were not completely gone. The piles， snowmen before thawing， were students’ ‘masterpiece’ last winter while the snow piles were not snowmen anymore， but they helped me picture how students had frolicked and enjoyed. Right now， they made my memory of snow piles and dragged my soul out of a winter dream. I walked in winter， but I had the sense of spring.