还是那么幽远,蝉鸣声声,青苔遍布,我又回到记忆中那遥远的小巷。外婆家的前方,静静卧着一条小巷。如同百草园,它是我儿时的玩伴。小巷的路,好像永远都只有三种颜色——灰色、黑色与青色。有时,阳光被瓦墙阻隔,没有阳光的地方,总是潮湿的。那里的石阶上,星星点点生长着青苔。远远望去,就像一条漫长的绿色通道。天气炽热的时候,我便会从外婆的瓦房里跑到那片阴凉下。一到那里,凉爽与湿润就扑面而来。我会坐在柔软的青苔上,身子靠着古老的瓦墙,闭上 Or so faraway, cicadas sound, moss throughout, I went back to the memory that distant alley. In front of her grandmother, quietly lying an alley. Like a hundred grass garden, it is my childhood playmate. Alley way, it seems that there are always only three colors - gray, black and blue. Sometimes, the sun is blocked by the tile wall, where there is no sunlight, it is always wet. Where the stone steps, little stars grow moss. From afar, like a long green channel. When the weather is hot, I will run from the grandmother’s tile room under the shade. Once there, cool and moist on the face. I will sit on the soft moss, leaning against the old tile wall and closing it