每年,当我看见落叶四处飘零,看见街巷满地晾晒打瓜、油葵之时,就很自然升腾回湘西大山的念头,去静静感受山村秋色的静美。十月初的一个傍晚,我从新疆溜回了山村。离开山村十多年,首次在秋天回到山村。一条纤细的水泥路嵌在高低起伏的山脉上,低姿匍匐般地向着褶皱里的山村爬去。山村不大,住有十来户人家,其中有两户姓彭的,其余住户都姓张。车在一个坡度较缓的垭口停了下来。我痴呆地俯视着山村的安详,既愉悦又伤怀。 Every year, when I see the falling leaves wandering around and seeing the streets and lanes all over my house, the sunflowers are rising naturally back to the mountains in western Hunan. One evening in early October, I slipped from Xinjiang to the mountain village. For more than ten years, I left mountain village for the first time in autumn. A slender concrete road lined the rugged mountain range, creeping down to the mountain village in the fold. Mountain village is not large, with more than a dozen households, of which there are two surnamed Peng, the rest of the household surnamed Zhang. The car stopped at a sloping pass. I am dementia overlooking the peace of the mountain village, both pleasure and sorrow.