north bird south

I am dreaming.

Dreaming of Uyuni Salt Lake, I stood on the shore of the lake and saw flocks of white birds, and there was a man standing in the middle of the lake playing the violin.

The mirror of the sky reflects the breath of the cloud, and includes the violin player.Probably an illusion—everything in the dream should be an illusion—the luthier in a black suit was looking at his reflection in the lake, as if he was his music score, and the reflection smiled at him, and he and the reflection were two people.

I stepped into the lake step by step, and the ripples supported me to walk on the mirror. When I stretched out my hand there, countless birds flew past my eyes, their feathers covered my sight, and I couldn't see anything.

When I woke up, Grandpa was no longer in the house. There was a bowl of warm porridge on the table. I guessed it was for my breakfast. a grain of rice.

The morning wind in Zhalong was refreshingly cold. I put on my clothes and went to the granite in front of the house, and my grandfather sat on it.

"It's getting late," my grandpa blew out his cigarette, touched my head, and said, "I can watch the sunrise earlier."

Sometimes when you touch the fingers of an old man, you will smell some old breath, the smell of grass on the loess land or the smell of fermented wheat wine, hidden in the ravines that get deeper with the years until they are buried in the soil.

My grandfather smoked cigarettes for half his life, and I think the soil where he sleeps in the future will be full of tobacco.

I had nothing to say to my grandpa, so I told him what I thought, and the old man hit the top of my head with a pipe, and the bang was very loud, reminiscent of overripe watermelons at a market stall.

Grandpa said to me: "Yu Changsheng, do you know the old man?"

I said, "Yes, you are."

He said, "Except for me."

I looked up and thought about it, but really not.

The school is full of young faces, and the oldest is only the 50-year-old principal. I pass by the street with grocery stalls every day, and ride a bicycle to and from school. Out of place, never thought of going up to say hello.

Men, women and children are the same, we are all strangers, I don't seem to have the obligation to know strangers.

I asked Grandpa what happened.

He said that getting to know the elderly and children is a very important social practice, which can make me fear life, which is more effective than any written education-because they are fresh life and death.

Don't mention the emptiness after death to the dying old man, and don't frighten the children who have just entered the world with the bitterness and evil of life.He made me remember.

Only then did I understand why he said this. What I said to him just now seemed to mention his death, which is impolite.So I pursed my lips and said, "I'm sorry."

Grandpa also smiled, and said, "Except for me."

I looked up at him and heard him say, "Because your grandpa is not afraid of death."

No one is not afraid of death, I thought, unless there is a thought strong enough to overcome this fear, like those martyrs who died for their country.

I figured I'd better stop talking and sit down next to the granite.

I saw that line of writing again, and this time I looked at it more seriously than before, reading it over and over again, sweeping through October, my lover, and the birds.

I finally found some clues, the lettering of time is much shallower than the text.The period below was engraved only once, and the text that started with October seemed to be traced over and over again, like a person sitting on an isolated island of time, recording the sun and moon with scratches on the stone, and the cycle of seasons Over the years, the scratches were sanded into carvings.

I looked at the neat handwriting and asked many times: "Did you engrave this?"

Grandpa looked at me condescendingly and said, "What do you think?"

I nodded.

He said perfunctorily, "That's right."

There was a red-crowned crane spreading its wings and beating the wind. My eyes were drawn to it, and I remembered the scene in my dream, and I remembered Master Yu... Teacher Yu's matter.

Before I had a dream last night, I was actually in a daze for a long time. I was imagining the teacher Yu whom I had never met.If it wasn't for that photo as evidence, I would even think that Yu Yao was fabricated by my grandfather to trick me.

I asked my grandpa why my dad never mentioned Mr. Yu to me.

Grandpa said: "I told him, you can't say it until you become an adult."

I didn't quite understand, but he interrupted me when I asked the question again. Grandpa stood up and said, "Yu Changsheng, when are you leaving?"

"The day after tomorrow, what's the matter?"

"Going to Huai City?"

"Ah."

The old man said suddenly: "I will follow you."

I:"?"

……

Write here and insert a sentence.

Grandpa said that I have to have a lover who is out of reach but expected, just like waiting for a migratory bird.

Later, I was single for more than 30 years, and I had a mixed feeling of disdain and longing for his remarks. When I was about to be an unswerving amarriageist, I met my migratory bird.

When I had a happy family and a daughter as beautiful and lovely as my wife, my grandfather had passed away long ago.

When my daughter was in junior high school, a 4K restored movie called "Sea Pianist" was re-screened. I usually don't watch movies very much, and I don't know much about it. The main reason is that my wife likes it. She took me to the cinema.

When I saw 1900 on the gangway looking at the city with jagged tall buildings and no end, and finally turned back to the cabin, I was stunned for a while, and I didn't slow down until the end.

My wife asked me what was wrong.

I said nothing, I just thought of my grandpa.

……

I called my father, and two days later I really flew to Huai City with my grandfather.

Grandpa lived in the cold north for decades, and my dad finally moved this Buddha statue out, wishing he could grow wings and fly to pick him up.

But grandpa was at the airport, looking at the dome of the tall house, silently watching all kinds of people walking past, flocking to a narrow exit.As if watching a movie, he didn't speak for a long time.

I call him, he calls me by my name.

I said, here it is.

He grabbed my arm, I seemed to feel a little trembling, he said, I want to go back.

"..."

I didn't understand why he made such "unreasonable troubles" at the time. He didn't even walk out of the airport, and he said he wanted to go back.

Adults will always teach me that some things can only be understood when I grow up, which is somewhat reasonable.

It's like watching a monologue in 1900 in a movie theater and thinking of my grandpa at that time.

For him, it was a completely new city, with high-rise buildings and heavy traffic.Ming University, a century-old prestigious school, has long since stopped planting ginkgo trees in front of the classrooms. It has been a long time since I saw a beautiful man playing the violin.

Grandpa's remaining years can't master such an unknown and complex behemoth, and there may only be fear for this place.

...The result is that I delayed the originally scheduled time to go abroad, and accompanied my grandfather back to the north.

My dad is a person who likes to plan in advance. Even if it is delayed this time, the next time I book tickets will be in time for the entrance time.He thought that I didn't persuade him well and dragged my grandfather to the plane, which caused the old man to return to the flight in anger, so I was scolded by him on the phone.

I:"……"

I couldn't argue, hung up the phone, walked around the house angrily, and said to my grandpa, "If you scold my dad from now on, I won't speak for him anymore."

Grandpa giggled.

In fact, I also know that my dad scolded me on purpose, and probably only he knows the old man's heart knot.

Well, at least I get three more days of free stories.

The "blessing in disguise" is that my grandpa was finally willing to add some more rice to my millet porridge for dinner. I was pleasantly surprised to eat a handful of rice grains!

Grandpa said, "Are you still listening?"

As if I was afraid that he would go back and take the rice back, I poured the porridge into my stomach first, wiped my mouth, and said, "Yeah."

He pointed to a dilapidated cabinet and said, "The third drawer has a brown leather book at the bottom."

I went to take it out and dropped a lot of envelopes."Zhiyuan Receive" is written on it.

Grandpa asked, "Where did I go?"