Leaves are falling and people are getting old

In the spring of April, the leaves on the kapok tree wither like wrinkly paper, but they are still lingering on the branches. Each gust of wind will be a test of life and death.

I stood on the balcony, looking at the kapok leaves downstairs experiencing the curtain call of this life, I couldn't help feeling dejected. Suddenly feeling the ruthlessness of the years, I was involuntarily terrified. I walked to the bathroom with worry. When I looked at myself in the mirror, I was stunned: rough crow's feet in the corners of my eyes, huge age spots on my face, and "one color" white hair on my head. Who is this? Is that me? It's a distant shadow! All kinds of taste hit my heart. The years are really cruel. Yesterday was still a green and astringent time, with a young face. Today, only the old face is left, passing through the cold time tunnel like a flash of lightning.

A few days ago, my niece came to Guangzhou from Huadu to celebrate my birthday and took her children to my house. On seeing me, my niece coaxed the child with a smile and said "Grandpa"! Hahaha... How old am I? I'm still timidly remembering my youth. I'm still thinking about the time of carefree running. My mental state is still like a young man, a timid young man, a timid young man. How can I be a "Grandpa" level! Looking at the children's clear eyes and innocent smile, we know that this world is really unforgiving. The youth, handsome and domineering have long dissipated in the wind last night.

Today is my fifty sixth birthday. Fifty six years, a slow and long time, walking among them, I always feel that "old" is far away. Although different stages and different faces, in the season of flowers and trees, the relatives and friends who get along day and night are scattered all over the world, arousing layers of sadness and loneliness in the heart full of separation. But I am always just a quiet bystander. I look safe and calm, and occasionally feel touched. I will think about the scene of my aging in the very distant future. However, I don't know the taste of sorrow when I am young. I always feel that the sadness flowing on them is illusory and ethereal for me.

My days are still free and slow. In the gurgling time, it reflects my life like poetry and song, and the years like fairy tales. All beautiful things bloom alternately and compete with each other. Noble and high spirited ideal, pure but clean love, simple and thick friendship, relaxed and happy work, distant and light expectation, everything, bright color and gorgeous as peaches and plums. In the dreamy years, I experienced the excitement of stretching again and again, smiling, walking and playing... I wasted my own time and was intoxicated. I don't know what year this evening is.

Time flows. Unconsciously, I was 56 years old and quietly stepped into the ranks of "old people". With the same experience, the same background and the same plot, the characters just shake and evolve quietly. I am no longer the audience who lacks real touch to the drama, but the protagonist who promotes the development of the plot.

A few days, a weakened body... I suddenly slipped into an urgent and hurried track. When the eyes open and close and the hands and feet move, time is like water and the years turn sharply. That kind of heavy sadness and helplessness filled the air around me, and I could really touch it with my hands.

Sigh... Old, am I old?

Looking at the previous photos, the edge of the picture has turned yellow. The two people swimming in the silver beach of Shili on Zhapo have familiar but strange smiles. At that time, I was still working on the Kaiyang project and took my wife and daughter to Zhapo for tourism during the National Day holiday. I sat on the beach and looked at her sideways. Her eyes were sincere and beautiful, and her smile was brilliant. Twenty years later, with a flick of a finger, today's "gate slope" has been replaced by "Hailing Island", and I have been in Hailing Island, known as "Oriental Hawaii", for several years.

I know those memories are young, but I won't do something young anyway. A few days ago, Xiao Zhang said to me, "jiuman, we went to Hailing Bay to pick up conch and touch clams. It doesn't count. We took it back to the canteen to wash and roast it, bought beer, drank it and didn't get drunk and quit the army." What a young man, what a young thing, I've experienced, haven't I? How many years ago was that? Maybe it's fear, maybe it's not fear, maybe it's worry, maybe it's not worry. I feel like a yellow leaf withered on a branch. It grows and grows quietly. Now it is falling quietly. "Are you going? Jiuman, we're going today." Xiao Zhang encouraged me. Shake your head, I'm old! If I set out with them, what should I do in case of high tide? When huge waves come, I can't run!

Alas! Live, live, grow old.

At the banquet where students get together, there are always people who indulge in drinking and return drunk. Under the flickering light, I see a red face and old tears. In this sad and warm scene, the estranged souls will approach each other, hug each other for a long time, and feel the heat of each other's body. Long sobs and sad sobs can be heard all the time, and good wishes flow naturally in the graceful eyes. From each pair of slightly swollen eyes, I can read the deep feelings accumulated in each other's hearts for decades. Every parting will leave me a hungry void, a lasting pain deep into the bone marrow.

With the breeze blowing, the remnant leaves on the kapok tree can no longer withstand the attack of the wind. They are reluctant to part with the branches, rotating, fluttering and falling heavily on the earth