赣西宜丰县云峰坛南麓,有一座连绵不断的竹林山,叫罗家山。山上竹林似海,郁郁葱葱,山脚下就是我的老家。我生长在竹林深处,从小就与竹子有着不解之缘。那片片小竹叶,就像是我的双脚,踏遍竹林每一个角落;那尖尖竹笋,犹如我的童年,在山风吹拂山雨洗礼下顽强成长。关于竹林的记忆,是我最初始又最刻骨铭心的,它由一串串或欢快或酸涩的故事交织在一起。记得第一次走进竹林,父亲半驼着背,腰间扎着一条白围布,后背的围布间顺插着一把进山用的柴刀。我紧跟在父亲身后,沿着狭窄 Jiangxi Yifeng Xian Yunfeng altar south, there is a continuous bamboo forest, called Luo Jiashan. Mountain forests like the sea, lush, the foot of the mountain is my hometown. I grew up in the depths of bamboo, bamboo and childhood have a bond. That piece of small bamboo leaves, like my feet, all over the bamboo everywhere; that sharp bamboo shoots, like my childhood, tenacious growth in the mountain breeze blowing under the baptism of rain. The memory of bamboo is my first and most memorable, it is a series of or happy or sour story intertwined. I remember the first time into the bamboo forest, his father half a camel back, his waist tied with a white cloth around the back of the closet along the mountain with a hatchet inserted. I followed behind my father, along the narrow