还记得刚上大一的时候,一宿舍八个人,整日盘算着去一个陌生、原始、神秘的山林,最好还有些细雨。我们就在那泥泞的土地上慢慢地踱着步子,呼吸着潮湿而新鲜的空气,抬头仰望蔚蓝而高远的天空,耳边响起淅淅沥沥的雨声……想着、想着,心都变得明净了许多,仿佛插上了翅膀,飞向那梦开始的地方。我们的计划到最后都没能付诸实践,带着深深的遗憾便各奔了天涯。现在,我偶尔回想起这件往事,总是忍不住要问自己:为什么要选择去雨后的山林呢? I remember when I was freshmen, I had eight people in a dorm and I was planning to go to a strange, primitive, and mysterious forest all day, preferably with some drizzle. We were slowly squatting on the muddy land, breathing moist and fresh air, looking up at the blue and distant sky, and weaving the rain in the ears... Thinking and thinking, my heart changed. There was a lot of clarity, as if it were wings, flying to where the dream started. None of our plans could be put into practice until the end. With deep regret, we ran our way to the horizon. Now, I occasionally recall this past and I can’t help but ask myself: Why should you choose to go to the mountains after the rain?