The xisha river

The Xisha River, formerly known as the Chengshui River, is on the west side of the old city of Zaozhuang, which I pass through every day on my way to and from work. As for its source, I have never visited the area north of the city where the Liangzi River, Canglang River, Niu Bei Quan and Tax Guo River meet. Visiting the source naturally does not matter, but the line to the end of the water is another matter, I always return with the flow, halfway back. Even so, I still felt the same kind of interest of the Tang people who visited Lijiuzhuang. In the past few years, I have met countless terrestrial and aquatic plants in this riverside wetland, and there are actually more than I have ever seen. There are countless birds and insects and fish.

Ten years ago, it was not a river, but an ugly, tree-lined ditch, filled with corroding garbage and bubbling water that smelled so bad that pedestrians fled in a hurry. Until one day, people's conscience has discovered that the foul environment is harmful to human health, the implementation of river dredging and remediation is on the agenda, focusing on creating a beautiful river and lake wetlands, still named the West Sha River.

Sky blue, white clouds, grass and trees, each color is distinct; bamboo cui, lotus blue, stacks, presented in turn; fisherman fishing in the rippling waves, or sunset fall around the wave haunting, reverse splash jump line, this is a landscape picture, or a portrait of the long-ago farming civilization, at that time, there is no man-made venom convergence, cross-flow. Time with indestructible steel-like will certainly can not be reversed, but I am still longing for that disappearance of the good to be able to reappear.

The improvement of the Xisha River really lived up to the expectations.

In the past ten years, my life has gone back and forth between my humble abode and my flat via the river and lake: a six-storey place where people are out of breath from climbing, and a poetic place where the north-south flow meets the artificial lake outside the west of the city. At night, I build my dreams in my humble abode; by day, it is my extra "homework" for the year to pass through the school section and then walk down the stone steps on the winding path near the water, observing the "screen" view of the Xisha River in all seasons. But each time I was not allowed to see the flowers, the water, the clouds, or the green, the red and the thin in detail; the frogs and insects, the magpie birds and the wild ducks chirping to identify a real, will have to pick up the steps again into the world, and the fairyland behind it will be closed.

The river gushes from the source through the mountain streams and wilderness to here, more than a hundred kilometers, mixed with the mountain aura, grass, crops and the breath of the soil, clear water like bright eyes, in addition to imprinting the blue body of the sky, clouds, occasionally in spring and summer there will be flower petals floating downstream, fish chasing and biting, they seem to be very hungry. The wetlands along the water are quite an artisanal place, bringing together my beloved flowers and trees with peculiar boulders, medium and small rocks, and wooden structured bridges, trestles, and pavilions are everywhere. More ornamental people, anglers, inadvertently, the gurgling tributaries in the imprint of a human smile, do not understand what is going on, the water disappeared under the wooden corridor or stone arch at your feet, and so you turn a corner with the path, the sparkling water surface and emerge to you, a wave of fish and shrimp swimming, triggering the interest, take the branch to fiddle, they abruptly scattered, people left, and swim together, chasing each other, playful swimming.

In the combination of trees, flowers, reeds, stacks, rocks and water, water is naturally the theme. Water is a small world, a small carrier, contains a large realm, a great theory, through the ages, the achievement of the painter, created a poet, its sharpness through the stone, flexible can grasp the rigid. In the history of human civilization, people live near water, live by water, and everything in the world can not be separated from the nourishment of water. Without water, even the best scenery is no longer interesting; without water, life will dry up. "Water is the mother of all things. Laozi said "good as water, water is good, all things and do not compete" is good sense.

In my opinion, water is a universal medicine, five poisonous vice and a hundred benefits. Some days, often drink a glass of water, always let me through the body clear, transparent texture, pleased in me, floating thoughts. Heart like water, is to say the negative factors in the human heart, living water is the spirit of the thought, let the heart bloom prosperous flowers. The glass of water is overflowing, if the fruit is to be a person, or low-key some good, low, does not mean that the inner is not abundant. Imagine, last year's loss of fatherly love throughout the winter, if it is the depression of my life, then in the beautiful spring, I will usher in a different kind of abundant support.

Every day on the waterfront trails, the hustle and bustle outside the quiet swept away everything, in that clear flow, birdsong, flowers, ducks occasionally chirping, enough to soothe the lost emotions of the day by day, regain the beauty of the delicate.

Yes, when civilization drenched to where, where there will be vibrant life, many surprises. The warm scene of the old duck protecting the ducklings is staged every day in the mirror-like water and water plants; when the magnificent evening sunlight slants to the water surface, the silence here is only the subtle sound of one or two fallen leaves, how pleasant, thanks to the natural giving, despite the short distance traveled. So, even if the artificial river and lake wetlands, in the city of every inch of land, it is clear that it is still a treasure of charm and precious, is that there will be a day in the future for people to protect the earth's home advocated at the beginning of the twenty-first century, to engage in green ecology and energy development road swept the country, just around the corner.

For me, every round trip in the view is the first encounter, dare not look at everything, stingy eyes, let them meticulously into the eyes: still like space and time, I heard the sound of flowers blooming, delicate and magical, fragrance refreshing; a drop of dew from the tall trees fall vertically to the shrubs, and instantly slide down to the ground when the sound of crisp; grass insects whispering or rustling crawling movement constantly haunting the ears; afraid When the weather is clear after the rain, the earthworms are often stranded and cannot return to their homes, so I pity them, picking them up with a branch and putting them into the wet grass, watching them crawl away. I was the only spectator in the dance performance, and they were happy to be enchanted; all was silent, and the coolness greeted me, and the faint sense of loss hidden in my heart was gently brushed away, and my heart was clarified, bringing me to the realm of tranquility.

One day, I came across two birds of prey, a couple of them. One was perched on a reed in the water, looking at the scenery, and occasionally sent out a "flutter-flutter-flutter" chant, really got the desired stage, the golden reed leaves shining. The golden leaves of the reeds shone brightly, reflecting it, and the whisking of the reeds did not stop it. Another one was foraging for food in the grass not far away, when a fat worm crawled by? The other one was foraging for food in the grass not far away. This time the one on the reed finally stopped singing, and the colorful crowns spread out, and the shiny eyes looked this way with tenderness and honey, and it took off, like a flower butterfly fluttering. They were relatively affectionate, their feathered crowns falling together, nodding frequently to each other, tongue-tied, and then sharing the bugs in the grass. I was filled with tears from the joy that was concentrated into the moving. There were also a myriad of creatures and plants around the river and lake wetlands, all living in their own peaceful worlds, jigsawed into a colorful picture.

It was a delightful late autumn day when I took my neighbor girl Xuanni to walk along the water. She was in kindergarten that year, and I took her home every day because of work. Every time we walked, we did not miss the opportunity to get to know the grasses and trees along the river, which are an organic part of the river and lake wetlands, growing firmly along the water's edge, receiving light baths and wind caresses. It is impossible to say that you do not know them.

The original is some do not know each other, I use the cell phone software to take pictures of them one by one to identify, and eventually Xuanni also recognized: fragrant bushes, a thousand currant, cortex grass, yellow iris, bushes, again force flower, water onion, pike grass, spotted grass, dilly grass, zedoary, windmill grass ...... benefit from the nourishment of water, from the spring sprout to the summer lush, autumn golden, winter sluggish In each season, they are in that ritualistic parade, poetically glorifying and withering. It reminds me of Monet's aquatic oil paintings of plants, where the picture is a perfect combination of luster and brilliant colors, full of the upward strength of life, and the flowing beauty is super dusty, conveying a deep impression in a moment. Of course these thoughts cannot be explained to a five-year-old child. Her clear, delighted eyes were focused on something else.

We couldn't wait to get closer to a depression at the bottom of the river. A wild persimmon grew in the fat green grass. They are my long-lost old friends, whom I knew well from my childhood. They grew in the wilderness, and when I went to cut the grass in the autumn sun with my buddies across the grass basket, I would inadvertently find the wild persimmon trees that grew with the weed crops on the barren land, full of purple and black berries shaped like soy beans, and pick them and put them in my mouth, and when I bit into them, the sweet and sour taste overflowed. It was the most delicious berry at that time, with the natural taste of warm sunshine growing into, so good. Xuanni tasted the wild persimmons with a little more novelty than I had back then. I was used to seeing plants growing in the wild back then because I was forever hungry and the taste was only momentary except for comforting my taste buds.

I marveled at how there could be wild persimmons here, which should be growing in the wilderness, not in the depressions of the river slope; perhaps the birds ate the berries and scattered the seeds here? Is it interspersed with grass seeds, growing together with the grass on the green river slope, making a pleasing clear offering? This place is not as much as the wilderness by the wind and frost, despite the late autumn, the leaves are still green, coincidentally hidden under the leaves of the tired fruit was found by me, evoking my childhood memories. For Xuanni, this is certainly an interesting attempt, can be placed in the heart of memory forever? The sunset shone through the trees, shining on her tender smiling face, and her sweet smile made me feel as if it was the blooming of a flower.

And then there was the growing fragrant cattail, which was also my long-lost friend, growing in the muddy ditches and wet depressions of the wilderness. It was a real wetland, with no crops to grow, green moss, and fish in the water, clinging to its bushes. I was always amazed at its fleshy spikes shaped like salami. In the autumn after the rainy season, when the fields were empty and we were tired of cutting grass and collecting firewood in the wilderness, it was certainly a natural toy. The title fragrant cattail, in fact, does not smell good. And calamus is the only one that matches the list of herbs.

In my opinion, calamus as a weed, can set aside the "weeds" category out of nowhere, appearing in front of the world, is because it emits the spirit of fairy gas, with orchids, chrysanthemums, daffodils and called "flowers and plants four elegant", from ancient slowly into the heart of the literati, so that later there The saying of "garden without stone is not beautiful, room without Pu is not elegant" came later.

In Xisha water, "know" calamus, it seems to be with the old days glad to meet. Childhood hometown, every Dragon Boat Festival, the villagers took calamus and wormwood inserted in the door frame crevices, said to drive away the epidemic and ward off evil. Now most live in buildings, the custom of inserting moxa and calamus has disappeared. When I was in elementary school, my father's "ancient poetry" read.

Calamus leaves know how many leaves, only one, the bee's wonderful.

The rain is clear red powder all open, dew a little, delicate yellow small.

Children, do not recognize its meaning, recited smoothly, and there are beautiful illustrations: a piece of clear water, a stone, fine leaves Qian Qian, I do not know what its survival mystery? In the pure sky erected a pure and fresh picture, so that the eyes can not move, like it.

It was later known that Mr. Huaihai's moody and voluptuous words were rarely praised by later generations of word commentators. But I think that the words have their own uniqueness in writing scenery and objects, giving people a special imagery to refer to. Because the flow of the heart originates from that kind of herb, its poetry and painting are inconvenient to forget.

Of course, the riverside plants that do not forget to comfort me are the trees that gladly cluster around me: cottonwood, osmanthus, magnolia, linden, begonia, banyan, cherry, yellow kudzu, heather, purple-flowered lambsquarters ...... to name a few. There are also some originally in the list of trees, but not conducive to the north of the river climate distinctive coercion, a inadvertent shrub, such as maidenhair tree, I prefer to think that the view is wrong. There is no need to look into the details, just use the cultural mentality to see everything around you, think, they show the wrong and Taoist feelings are mine, which often let me dwell in it, if not the fish jumping out of the water, the sound of the red-billed ducks swimming through the alarm, when really forget to go ashore. The dynamics on the surface of the water touched me, it turns out that even if I am in the depression of life, and the lively world in front of me still maintain interaction, subtle and harmonious, never what outsiders.

Not an outsider, so I know a little bit, even humble, in fact, there is also an inherent nobility, low valley does not mean not abundant, I hope this is not the illusion of conceit. Once as I was an admirer of the waterfront of the Western Sands, I was also a proponent of the real world. The presence of time makes all things perfect. What belongs to me is not yet completed, will continue to handful of rice and water, into the hustle and bustle of the earth.

Water flows downward, and deep ravines and valleys make the flow of water. So does the Xisha River, with its width and depth, it is a clear river, nourishing the grass and trees along the shore and sparkling with vitality.