一日,我们几位朋友相约一起去拜访一位文化前辈。前辈早已退休,带着老伴回了乡下老家,在那蟒岭山沟一边种地,一边读书写作。我们去时,正是一个阴雨之后的晴日,阳光明媚,空气清新,前辈坐在向阳的台阶上,身边有几,几上有杯、有书,书页翻开。他没看书,而是侧卧椅间,右手夹笔托腮仰脸看着远处的蟒岭山剪影凝思。我们到他面前了他还没回过神来。就有朋友开玩笑说:“老师,参禅呢。”“正是,”前辈回过神来一看是我们几个, On the 1st, a few of our friends met to visit a cultural predecessor. The predecessors have already retired, with his wife back home in the country, in that python ridge ravine planting, while reading writing. When we went there was a sunny day after the rain, the sun was shining, the air was fresh, the seniors were sitting on the sunny steps, and there were a few, a few cups, books and pages open. He did not read, but the side of the bedroom, the right hand folder holding his face Looking at the distance python mountain silhouette meditation. He had not recovered before we came to him. A friend joked: “Teacher, meditation it. ” “It is, ” Look back to the seniors is a few of us,