走冬Walk on a Winter Day

周领顺

今兒是个艳阳天，持续多日的阴霾一扫而光，连心情也跟着晴2了起来。虽然屋外丽日高照，但冷飕飕的凉意在室内还有“袭”人之感3。不过，这天气，这气温，倒适合做一小时的“长途跋涉”，因此我决定走着去我的工作室4。

穿棉衣，系围巾，蹬上运动鞋，8点准时走起。

一开始的十来分钟里，室外的冷气包裹全身，避之不及。我用围巾罩上口鼻，踏在平坦的小路上，闭起眼，走上个十来步5不成问题，这滋味，真有点儿窝在被窝儿的感觉。睁睁眼，再作十来步的判断，若想“睡”，就再一次把眼睛眯起。半个钟头过后，棉衣的扣子就得解开它几个，随衣角在风中抖动6;围巾松弛下来，随意搭在肩上，“艺术”范儿不差毫厘。步子并不拖沓，反而有些轻盈欢快。

路边成片的草地，有深绿的，有枯黄的，上面都蒙着一层薄霜，偶尔踏足，感觉平时的软土，忽然变得铁板般坚硬异常。大地都冻起来了，然而一些小草依然坚韧如初，似乎不情愿褪去深爱的绿装。几片小树林，以冬青和香樟为主，在它们身上，几乎看不出季节的变化，只是感觉绿得更加深沉，全没了初春时才有的嫩样。

途经一条小河，还是那么婀娜，河边种着垂柳，本该是残枝败柳的时节，现在看来，倒有些绿意盎然。柳条依旧，绿中泛黄，从颜色上看不出是深冬还是初春的景象，只是那些叶子露出了端倪。大一些的，是熟透了的，黄中带点褐色;小一些的，绿得尚可，有着春的气息，毕竟初春时节的柳叶不大，绿中夹杂着鹅黄。我此时哈着热气，浑身暖意融融，走着看，看着走，若不是对那些大个儿柳叶仔细端详，依然能感受到春满小河一样。

此时，植物的季节更替模糊了我的双眼，但河面上的小鸟，却蹒跚于刺眼的冰面之上。小河结着冰，只是冰不厚，有植物歪立和根系盘桓的地方，薄如蝉翼，有水汪汪。灰白相间的小鸟是在觅食吧，可怜的，冰面上哪有什么好吃的呢！还是那些大黑鸟老成了些，它们成群在草棵里觅食，甚至不惧路人，呼啸着飞临小河时，也多是捡拾河边草丛里深秋留下的籽粒;它们偶尔在冰面上走一走，似乎是在其他体型较小的同类面前耀武扬威、展示气场。

及至校园，看到零零星星的雪堆未及化尽，散落于草地之上。它们是学生们冬日的杰作，可爱的雪人现在早已没有了“人”样，但能想象7到当时学生们的嬉戏和欢乐，此时化作了雪堆的记忆，也让我对深冬如梦初醒。我走在冬天里，却走出了春意，收获了秋的果实。

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.