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一片红色荒原,一间褐色小土屋,一条彩色小花径,在群山的深处,在距离村庄的远处,在我表叔的栖居之处。多年后的今天,当我在电脑键盘上用心敲打这篇文章时,脑海中适时闪现的仿佛是一幅阅读了多年的图画。在我的故乡,那片荒原的荒凉已经由来已久。它的有关森林的故事、动物的故事以及狩猎的故事和砍伐的故事还鲜活在老人们的口中。荒原的出现似乎在表明着在大地之上,有许多东西并非取之不尽和用之不竭,而是消失了就永远地消失了。为此,面对寸草难生的荒原,村庄除了越避越远之外,显然没有更好的办法。可谁又能想到,当过修路工和护林员之后又带着一身病痛
A red wasteland, a small brown earth house, a small color flower path, in the depths of the mountains, in the distance from the village, in my uncle’s dwelling place. Years later, when I tapped on this essay on a computer keyboard, the timely flash of my mind seemed to be a picture that I had read for many years. In my hometown, desolation of that piece of wasteland has been around for a long time. Its stories about forests, animal stories, hunting stories and felled stories are still alive in the mouth of the elderly. The appearance of the wilderness seems to indicate that it is above the earth. There are many things that are not inexhaustible and inexhaustible. They disappear forever and disappear. For this reason, in the face of the wasteland where the weeds are scarce, there is obviously no better way for the village to escape from it. Who can think of it, but also with a pain after working as a road and forest ranger