家的对面是光秃秃的一片砂砾,惨红惨红的砂石深深地插在黄沙中,只露出或高或浅的石尖,在阳光的照射下令人森然。我常徜徉在这没有生气的地方,去寻找生命的足迹,去感受生命的搏动,去领悟生命的内涵。那儿没有树,没有小草,甚至于那种生命力杉强的铁线草也难在那儿扎根。没有虫鸣,也没有鸟叫,只有死一般的萧瑟和沉寂。一阵山风刮过,便腾起一道黄沙,直上云霄,于是天地便混沌一片。我常常沉默于这片砂砾之中。 Opposite the home is a bare piece of gravel. The red and red sand is deeply inserted into the yellow sand. It only exposes high or shallow stone tips, and it is sensational under the sunshine. I often linger in this ungraceful place to find the footprints of life, to experience the beat of life, to comprehend the connotation of life. There are no trees there, no grass, and even the vitality of the strong clematis hard to take root there. No worms, no birds, only dead bleakness and silence. When a mountain breeze blows over, a yellow sand is thrown up and goes straight to the sky, so the world is chaotic. I am often silent in this gravel.