在我记忆的深处,珍藏着一些难忘的画面。当我翻拣出它们时,种种难以用文字描述的感慨常拨动我的心弦。日复一日地上班下班,平淡的日子便如流水一般在指缝中溜走了。早出晚归的行色匆匆也令我无暇胡思乱想。然而有一天早晨,当我骑车在宽阔的三环路上,偶然间一抬头,一位伫立在过街天桥上的老人映入我的眼帘。他静静地倚在护栏上,专注地眺望着。此时东方一轮朝阳正在升起,那红彤彤的光芒投射在老人身上,将他的满头白发镀成了金色,宛如一尊美好的雕像。此后,我就留意起来,几乎每个早晨经过这里我都能看到这位老人雕塑般伫立在天桥上。 In the depths of my memory, there are some memorable pictures. When I picked them out, my emotions, which were difficult to describe in words, often struck my heart. Day after day to work to get off work, the dull days will slip through the fingers like water. The hurry of getting up early and returning also made me fussy. One morning, however, when I rode on the wide Third Ring Road and occasionally looked up, an old man standing on the overpass straddles my eyes. He leaned against the fence and looked intently. At this time, the rising sun in the east was rising. The light of the red dragonfly was projected on the old man, and his grey hair was plated into gold. It was like a beautiful statue. Since then, I have noticed that almost every morning I can see this old man standing on a flyover like a sculpture.