Natural and Freehand - (New Curriculum Chinese Reading)

Author: Liu Hua
Publisher:
Publish Date: 2006-08-01
Features: The nature of humanity and the humanity of nature. When Spring arrives, flowers bloom in abundance, and birds sing merrily, always bringing a pleasant mood in the warm breeze. However, there are fewer birds now, and the scene of birds singing together is more of a concept, perhaps only visible in parks. Where have the birds gone? They should have returned to the mountains and forests. After all, the times have changed, with more people, fewer birds; more cities, fewer rural areas; and more skyscrapers, fewer green trees. This is the law of the times, as well as its regret. Even in the countryside, it is rare to see the scene of "new swallows fluttering gracefully, entering my home." When reading ancient poetry, such sentiments are even stronger. "Spring sleep does not wake until dawn, everywhere the birds sing," Meng Haoran sang joyfully as he stretched lazily in bed; "Spring grass grows in the pond, garden willows change to singing birds," Xie Lingyun, recovering from illness, forgot his official setbacks and became excited due to the birds' singing; "The moon rises, startling the mountain birds, singing in the spring stream," Wang Wei, always fond of pleasant scenes, painted a landscape at this moment. Seeing such poetic scenes, one sometimes envies the ancient environment and dreams up unrealistic fantasies. Overall, ancient poems with birds often feature the oriole. The oriole is small but indeed beautiful, especially its melodious and graceful calls. This is the impression from watching them in the zoo. I can no longer remember whether I have seen its flight in the wild, but in the village where I grew up, scenes like "green trees connect the villages in darkness, yellow flowers are sparse among the wheat" and "in the morning, birds sing in the courtyard trees, red and green embracing the distant forests in spring" were still visible. Bird nests could be seen everywhere on trees and under eaves. Those birds were not noble; they were usually crows and sparrows. I often played tricks on them, either shooting them with a slingshot or climbing ladders to their nests under the eaves. Some of my friends climbed trees to reach crow nests, but the crows got angry and dive-bombed them with their wings, hitting their faces until they couldn’t open their eyes and had to scramble down the tree in panic. I did not climb trees, but some of my friends did. One of them touched a crow’s nest, and the crows dive-bombed him repeatedly with their wings, forcing him to flee the tree without opening his eyes. I did manage to raid sparrow nests. Sparrows are foolish, and their nests are easy to spot, especially in wall holes under eaves. Sometimes, as I passed under a window, I could hear the chirping of chicks inside the nest. I would call my friends, climb up on each other’s shoulders, and reach in to grab the featherless chicks. The mother bird would watch from a distance, helpless in her distress. Sometimes we would release the birds, intending to catch them when they grew older, but after a while, we would return to find them gone. Birds grow so quickly. Now, such nests are rarely seen, let alone the precious little birds like orioles. In ancient times, poets from every dynasty wrote about these beautiful and moving birds. For example, Wang Wei’s "Flowers fall, but the housekeeper is not back; orioles sing as the mountain guest still sleeps"; Du Fu’s "Two yellow orioles sing among green willows, a line of white egrets rises to the blue sky," "The lingering butterflies dance often, the free orioles sing sweetly"; Bai Juyi’s "Early orioles compete for warm trees, new swallows peck spring mud"; Du Mu’s "A thousand miles of orioles sing among green and red, water villages and mountain towns flutter with wine flags"; and Wei Yingwu’s "Alone, I pity the quiet grass by the stream, above, orioles sing in deep trees." These have all become timeless masterpieces. Zhengzhou has recently seen a strange phenomenon: thousands of white egrets have flown in and settled on the Paulownia trees along Jinshui Avenue. At first, no one knew what kind of bird they were, but later they were identified as the white egrets from "A line of white egrets rising to the blue sky." Due to the trees, it is rare to see them spread their wings and soar into the sky, but they often cause disturbances with their oily droppings that fall straight down, splashing on people and cars. The newspapers once held a discussion about whether the white egrets should stay or leave, but there has been no resolution to this day. The white egrets continue to thrive on the branches, still relieving themselves at will. People, however, have become more civilized, never disturbing the birds, and their anger is just that—anger without malice. Everyone understands. Compared to the bird-hunting campaigns of the 1950s and 1960s, this is a vast improvement. But why do white egrets, who do not linger in green mountains and wild fields, choose to live in this bustling city? That remains a mystery. White egrets look beautiful in flight but are not particularly melodious. If this famous street were filled with millions of orioles instead, what a scene it would be. Then, people would not need to hang bird cages on trees, and every day would bring a pleasant mood. Poets like Du Fu and Wang Wei would return and leave a timeless ode for Zhengzhou. Now, people have environmental awareness, planting more greenery, protecting birds, cleaning water sources, and enriching the soil. In the future, scenes like "Red flowers bloom in trees, orioles sing in chaos; green grass and a calm lake, white egrets fly" may become common, even surpassing the past. Nature’s scenery is for people, and it is also shaped by people. P8-10