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梦中,总听到那山的呼唤。从小,热爱山,热爱水,热爱大自然那渺无边际、不可捉摸的旖旎与神奇。童年时,在故乡湖南的乡间,曾有那么一座山,使我喘息过,使我迷惑过,使我喜悦而又使我沉迷。至今,那山的倩影仍清晰地萦绕于我的脑际。那山并不高,遍布着松树,高大的直入云霄,矮小的只有半个人高。泥土是红色的,土质松软,没有杂草,没有荆棘,只是,遍地散布着一颗颗松果。我常常穿梭于那松林间,奔跑着,呼喊着,收集着那些松果,竟日流连,乐而不疲。玩累了,我会选择一棵巨大的松树,倚着它坐
Dream, always hear the call of that mountain. Childhood, love mountains, love water, love nature that bleak, unpredictable charm and magic. Childhood, in the hometown of Hunan in the country, there was such a mountain, which made me breathe, confused me and made me delight but addicted me. So far, the shadow of that mountain is still clearly in my mind. That mountain is not high, all over the pine trees, tall straight into the sky, only half a person tall short. The soil is red, soft soil, no weeds, no thorns, but everywhere scattered with pine cones. I often shuttle in the pine forest, running, shouting, collecting those pine congee, actually linger, never tired. Play tired, I will choose a huge pine, leaning on it to sit