Returning home on a snowy night, the third stunning beauty of the countryside
When the new snow falls and the full moon is in the sky, the countryside night becomes a painting on plain silk.
Push the wooden lattice window open, and the cold breeze blows towards your face, bringing with it the slightly moist smell of the thawed soil in the fields. The mountains in the distance are dark-colored, covered with a thin layer of newly fallen snow, and cast a bright blue-gray shadow under the moonlight, as if the earth is breathing evenly while it is sleeping. On the fence made of bamboo or branches in front of the yard, the remaining snow has not completely melted, and occasionally it will fall with a rustling sound, disturbing the chirping of insects in the grass that have just woken up from hibernation.
The watery moonlight fell to the ground like silver, and the bright silver was quietly flowing on the bluestone slabs of the grain drying field. Those stone surfaces that had been smoothed by the years now reflected the skylight, like pools of shallow pools of water. The old locust tree at the entrance of the village stretches out its branches, and the snow accumulated between the branches shines in the moonlight like a tree full of locust flowers in spring.
A night like this can evoke deep nostalgia and soothe people's hearts. Recalling the scenes I witnessed in the fields during the day, the wheat seedlings were quietly turning green, and the tender green tips pushed away the last bit of snow; the overwintering spinach leaves in the vegetable patch were so thick that they could pinch out water; the willow branches next to the pond had goose-yellow buds, swaying gently in the breeze. The foundation of this farming civilization is hidden in the rhythm of the four seasons. There is no rush, no impatience, calmness and moderation.
Not far away, a figure was walking from the field ridge. The hoe he carried on his shoulder reflected the falling moonlight, and there was a rustic path under his feet, with footprints of varying depths and shallowness. Only when he got closer did he see clearly that it was the old man next door. Uncle, using the moonlight to spread the last layer of fertilizer on the wheat field, he said with a smile that it was going to be warmer today. The white breath exhaled from his mouth quickly blended into the cold night. In that smile, there was a deep friendship for the land and a firm belief in the harvest in the coming year.
Among the moonlight and snow, the figure returning in the moonlight and that simple smile are the third most beautiful color in the world. It is not the kind of stunning that can make people's eyes brighten, but the kind of moving that can move people's hearts; it is not the kind of gorgeous and colorful, but the kind of gentle and moist feeling. Just like the days and nights in this countryside, they may seem ordinary, but they contain the most authentic power of life.
Walking into the house, the embers in the stove are still glowing with a warm red light, the sweet potatoes simmering in the earthen pot exude a sweet and glutinous aroma, and the radish and pepper are slowly fermenting in the salt water in the pickle jar on the windowsill, brewing the unique flavor of winter. This is the little bit of happiness in the daily life of the pastoral life, simple and unpretentious, but it can warm the heart.
It was late at night, and the moonlight shone in from the window lattice, casting scattered shadows on the earthen wall. Occasionally, a few barking dogs could be heard in the distance, which made the night even more peaceful and quiet. Being in such a quiet and peaceful night is the best time to think about some heart-warming thoughts. These thoughts are related to the land, to farming work, and to the wisdom passed down from generation to generation in the field of local folk culture - specifically, sowing in spring and harvesting in autumn must comply with the seasonal laws of nature; neighbors should help and support each other and watch for the warmth together.
In the countryside after snow, it is as if time has pressed the pause button. Everything slowly slows down and quiets down. Only life sprouts quietly in invisible places. This original and peaceful artistic conception is a luxury that cannot be found in the city. It makes people understand that the most beautiful scenery is not the poetry of the distance, but the fireworks around them. The warmest and stunning colors are not stunning encounters, but the returning figures.
As the moonlight slowly tilts towards the west, the color of the snow becomes brighter and brighter. Surround yourself with the natural beauty of the countryside, rest your head on the moonlight shining through the window, listen to the sound of the snow melting, and have a dream about spring. In the dream, the wheat field showed a green color, the peach blossoms were blooming brilliantly, and you were walking towards me from the other end of the field ridge with a smile on your face.
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