林春江
冬日,暖阳,天朗气清。丝丝缕缕的寒意,扑面袭来。在这个冬日的午后,我走进牟氏庄园。
青色的磨盘石,灰褐色的土墙,赤红色的雕梁画栋,深黑色的木门,黛青色的屋脊,在寒风中静默着,一切皆如往昔,一切又似乎变了模样。少了一份春天的生气、夏天的热烈、秋日的绚丽,多了一份冬日里的厚重和质朴。繁华落尽,缤纷离去,色彩远遁,在肃杀的寒意中,牟氏庄园呈现出落寞和萧条,但正因为如此,才展现出生命的原色和真实。庄园里游客寥寥,甬路两旁的小商贩不见踪影,叫卖声和喧嚣吵闹,倏忽隐去,幽深的长廊,曲折的胡同,悄然无声,惟有寒风嚎叫着掠过身旁。触一触坚硬的拴马槽,摸一摸粗糙的虎皮墙,入手冰凉,往日的温度和浮华,渐渐退却,质朴和厚实,慢慢浮现。
牟氏学堂宽敞的庭院东侧,栽植一株龙眼葡萄。黑褐色的细长的藤蔓间,隐约可见一串串黑紫色的葡萄,随风轻轻摇曳。这时,庄园里的玫瑰早已凋谢,玉兰只剩下光秃秃的枝干,高大的枣树枝丫纵横。走到葡萄树下,轻轻地摘下一串龙眼,枝条似已干枯,粒粒葡萄表面暗淡,干瘪无光,有的似乎风化成黑黑的葡萄干,即便如此,她仍然紧紧地抓住母本。摊在掌心细看,依稀保持她芳华盛放的模样,有一股微弱的生命力缓缓逸出。拽掉一粒,果皮皱纹纵横,呈黑紫色,有的地方绽开细微的裂口,表面看去,其貌不扬,用清水洗净,轻轻地塞入嘴里,甜丝丝,软糯糯,凉冰冰,甜得心欲融化,软得舌齿缠绕,凉得沁入肺腑。较秋日葡萄,少了一份清爽可口,多了一份醇厚甜凉,更有一股清新的淡香,扑入鼻端。
面对凄风苦雨,霜刀雪剑,坚韧不屈,咬牙硬扛,熬住岁月的磨砺,耐住风寒的侵袭,守住无边的孤独寂寞,挺住昼夜温差,坦然承受热和冷的双重洗礼,遭受千锤百炼,终于,甘甜如怡,远胜普通葡萄。
无独有偶,拐角处的腊梅傲霜斗雪,绽放在凛冽的寒风中。踅过拐角,浓郁的清香扑面而来,熏得人心儿都醉了。那香,丝丝缕缕,浅浅淡淡,入发际,入眉梢,入衣角,入凡心点点。这是深沉的积淀凝聚成的朵朵馨香。定睛望去,只见幽深的甬道拐角处,一株一人多高的腊梅傲然屹立,灰褐色的树枝稀稀疏疏,覆盖着一层薄雪,枝头桠间,十余朵明黄色的梅花怒放,娇弱的花瓣在寒风中微微颤抖,柔嫩的花蕊袅袅挺立。清婉的香,明媚的黄,莹白的薄雪,相映成趣。她的斜对面,是一丛繁茂的修竹。翠绿的竹叶,纤细笔挺的枝干,一往情深地奉献着悦目的绿意。你看,碧绿的竹叶上,一抹晶莹的白雪,那不是深沉的欢喜凝结的洁白吗?
日新堂东侧的甬道里,那株两百多年的紫藤,弯曲嶙峋,黑褐色的母本缠络着,黑褐色的枝干,伸展在空中,似乎在倾诉,在呐喊。仰头望去,稀疏的枝条间,可见湛蓝的天空,一朵白云悠悠飘过,恍惚间,眼前蓦然闪现葳蕤葱茏,青绿的枝条,郁郁葱葱的叶子,绿意盎然,紫色的花朵,迎风绽放,摇摇曳曳,阵阵清香,飘逸而出。精致玲珑的小姐楼,黛瓦青砖,斑驳的木门,藏蓝色的窗棂,是曾经扬撒庄园大饽饽的所在,也是抛绣球的定情之地,而今,沉寂静然,往昔种种,烟消云散。碎石铺砌的院落里,爬满院墙的绿萝掉光了绿叶,却依旧一路蔓延;丁香繁茂不在,却依然精神抖擞,积蓄着力量,以待来年。
立在她的面前,我陷入沉思:走过繁花似锦的春天、郁郁葱葱的夏天、五彩缤纷的秋天,进入砭肌刺骨的冬天。告别繁华,摒弃浮躁,抛却喧哗,庄园迎来朴素的底色,呈现出生命的本真,那就是:在凛冽中,展现出独特的风采,释放出骨子里的坚强;在严寒中,默默地坚守,期许着美好的未来。这份顽强、执着、坚守,让冬日里的牟氏庄园,变得高贵起来,如同智者,睿智而沉稳,大气而厚重。
Winter days feature a warm sun, an azure sky, and clean air. People are soaked every bit of coldness. In an winter afternoon, I walked into Mou’s Manor.
Dark blue grindstones, grayish earthen walls, ruby richly ornamented buildings, dark black wooden doors and bluish roofs were silent in the chilly wind. Everything remained the same as the old days; however, some changes seemed to take place. They had less vitality typical in the spring, less passion typical in the summer and less color typical in the autumn but more weight and simplicity typical in the winter. As it was deprived from prosperity and colorfulness, the Mou’s Manor appeared lonesome and desolate in austere coldness. Due to this reason, it reflected the bottom color and truth of life. There were few travelers. Hawkers by the path were nowhere to see. Cries and noises suddenly disappeared. Deep passages and winding alleys were quiet except for the howling gale sweeping by your side. Touch the flinty manger and the ragged tiger-skin wall and you will feel their coldness. As the bygone temperature and glitz faded gradually, simplicity and solidity surfaced slowly.