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把船停靠沱江码头,缆绳系到吊脚楼那伸开的手臂般的撑木上,妥当以后,拿起竹篙和渔网,便可一步一步沿天然的岩梯坎由下而上直入木屋里去。这便是老人的家。因为有半截吊楼支出去很远,伸盖到河面的位置,码头便就像是自家的歇脚地,沱江更像自家的河流。每日里的黄昏,老人挑着他的渔网出去,清晨满载鱼儿挑着回来。船离岸拢岸,轻若浮标,老人也如那些清波的涟漪,悠悠荡荡,扩大着散开去了。他似乎总是一个人,默默无闻的,撒网收网。河流的田野,总有他
The boat docked Tuojiang pier, the cable tied to the stilted floor that arm-like brace wood, when appropriate, pick up the bamboo shoots and nets, you can step by step along the natural rocky cliff bottom straight into the wooden house. This is the home of the elderly. Because there are half hanging floor to go far, stretch cover to the river’s location, the dock will be like their own rest, Tuojiang more like their own rivers. Dusk every day, the old man lured his fishing nets out, full of fish in the early morning lug back. Ships offshore shore, light if the buoy, the elderly, such as those who wave of ripples, leisurely, expanding to spread out. He always seems a person, obscure, cast nets net collection. There are always rivers in the field