阴冷的冬日中午,我把门窗全部打开。室外对流的空气是暖的,起码,相对于出着太阳的天空来说。太阳一直是免费的火炉。它照耀了很多年,我从地堰上裸露的潮湿的白骨上看到,他们也被它照耀过。晒太阳,要不干什么呢?田野被昨夜的雨雪肆虐过,大山凌乱的发辫上倒扣一顶小雪帽。孩子一直嚷闹要去山顶看雪。我告诉他,不着急,白雪不久就会自己送上门的。 Cold winter noon, I opened the windows and doors all. Outdoor convection air is warm, at least, relative to the sky out of the sun. The sun has always been a free stove. It shone for many years, I saw it from the bare, damp bones on the weir, and they were shined by it too. Sun, what to do? The field was ravaged by the rain and snow last night, the mountains messy braid inverted a snow cap. Children have been out to watch the snow to the top of the hill. I told him, do not worry, Snow will soon be sent home.