无论是山明水秀百花竞放的春天,还是赤日炎炎荷花吐艳的盛夏,抑或天高气爽丹桂飘香的秋日,在垂钓的水边,人们常可以见到一位须发皆白、精神矍铄的老翁。他手持长竿,头顶遮阳帽,稳稳地坐在马扎上。紧盯着水面隐约可见的浮漂。随着碧水清波间那红色标志物的沉浮,一条条银光闪耀、活蹦乱跳的鲜鱼便落入他的网袋。每当大鱼上钩,将线竿拉成“门”字形状时,他便兴奋地站立起来,挥动着钓竿或左或右或远或近,与鱼展开周旋嬉戏,直到将其降服。 Whether it is the spring of the beautiful flowers bloom, or the hot summer sun lotus Tuyan, or breathtaking autumn Osamu fragrance, fishing in the water, you can often see a must White, spirited man. He was holding a long pole, a visor over his head, and steadily sitting on top of Mazar. Staring at the surface of the faintly visible float. With the ups and downs of the red marker between the clear water and clear water, a silver bar shines and the fresh fish fall into his net bag. Whenever the big fish hooked the wire into a “door” shape, he stood up excitedly and waved the fishing rod either left or right, far or near, and unfolded it until it was surrendered.