It seems that in every corner, there is a sound of wind. Whirring, ringing in the ears. The chill was very strong, and on the branches with a few leaves hanging astringently, it turned back gracefully.
At this time, I heard the sound of a flute. Suddenly far and near, wisps. This voice, floating from the **?
If you listen closely, the voice is very weak. I'm a little confused about my ear power. I couldn't tell which direction the sound was coming from. Recognize and listen slowly.
It was early summer, and I walked into the Yinan Mountains. The hills here are gentle, low and low trees, and the hills are green and full of life.
There is a mountain spring flowing down from the mountain. The sound of rushing water drowned out the footsteps. In the distance, on the mountain, the ripe fruits are dotted among the green onions.
Following the direction of the lively mountain spring, the wisp of flute I heard, far and near, sometimes clear, sometimes faint. It turns out that there are still such Yaxing people on the mountain.
Listen carefully, the flute sound of ** is clearly the sound of the wind.
Yes, it's the wind. But the wind was mixed with the sound of a flute.
My pace has slowed down.
Turning a corner, a bamboo forest appeared in front of me. Yes, that's where the flute comes from.
I have never seen such a flourishing bamboo forest. The verdant bamboo poles are all full of strength to go up. The leaves, verdant and delicate. When the wind blows, the leaves rustle. It turns out that this is the voice I just heard.
I stood on the edge of the bamboo forest and wanted to walk into this bamboo forest. But they stood so close together that I couldn't find a way in.
I stood like this for a long time, looking at the bright and dark bamboo leaves that were basked by the sun.
It's quiet around. There is no hustle and bustle of the city here. Only my thoughts, accompanied by the sound of the wind blowing bamboo leaves.
This situation is familiar. I don't understand, the feeling in my heart is a little surprised, a little painful, and a little nostalgic.
Although the wisps of flute have been lingering in my ears, it feels so far away to me.
Next to the unit, there is a wood. Every day I pass by the edge of the woods, there is often a wisp of flute sound coming from inside. I couldn't see the man playing the flute in the woods, and I imagined that the man must have a delicate back. Slowly, this path, this back, and this flute sound became a kind of waiting, and it became a habit for me to walk on the road.
Maybe it was that experience, the sound of the flute, quietly hidden in my heart. After a few years, at a certain moment, suddenly wake up, such as now.
Perhaps, there is a kind of beauty in the voice, ** in the perception of one's own heart. It's not about the melody itself. Perhaps, the charm of this voice is not related to one's own thoughts, not the environment. Because there is a melody called natural. There is a kind of beauty called nature.
Close contact with nature Maybe everyone is obsessed with a certain sound. For example, frog chirping, such as cicadas, or in spring, a few birdsong from the branches. It may not represent a sound, but a complex. Like people, it has feelings and life. Sometimes, a thousand words are not worth a smile;A look back can make people remember it for a lifetime. If the sound of the flute was a complex when I was young, then there was once such a back in my world, and there was a sound that has always warmed me. No matter what time it is, I will always believe that under the taciturn exterior, my heart is so full.
Walking along the mountain road, the bamboo forest slowly stayed behind me, and the feeling that bred in my heart by the bamboo forest, the sound of the flute, made me reminisce for a long time and miss it for a lifetime.