## 《Yuansh
## 《Yuanshanji》
Yuanshan is not a mountain, but the lung of the city. People in the city walk by it every day, but they don't even realize it is a mountain, thinking it is just an ordinary high slope. I was the same, until I was attracted by the sound of birds that day, and then I recognized its true appearance.
When I first entered the garden gate, I saw the old banyan tree with drooping beards, which were green and dripping. Those aerial roots hung in the air, like the beard of an old man, but much more lively than the beard. They danced when the wind came, and swayed when there was no wind, showing a bit of the spirit of a naughty boy. There were often old men playing chess under the tree. The chess pieces hit the wooden plate, and the "snap" sound scared away the sparrows looking for food, but did not wake up the wild cats that were napping.
Going up the stone steps, the azaleas on the roadside were in full bloom. The red was not pure red, but seemed to be mixed with sunlight, so bright that it was dazzling. Several female students crowded in front of the flowers to take pictures, pushing and shoving each other, and their laughter startled a group of butterflies, which scattered into the air, like flying flowers. I think the flowers bloomed so lively, probably for these young faces.
There is a pavilion on the mountainside, and in the pavilion there is a sobbing sound of a flute. Looking closer, it turned out to be a white-haired old man, with ten fingers like dead branches, but jumping on the bamboo holes like a frog. At the end of the song, he did not charge any money, but just put the flute horizontally on his knees and closed his eyes to rest. The pillars of the pavilion are engraved with words like "I visited here", and the new marks overlap the old marks, which has become another kind of inscription.
Climbing to the top and looking around, the city is all under your feet. The high-rise buildings are like building blocks, and the traffic is like an ant colony. There is a breeze here, taking away the heat. A couple kissed in the corner of the observation deck, unaware of the frown of the old woman next to them. And on the pine branches in the distance, squirrels were chewing fruits, not caring about human love.
As we were going down the mountain, it was already dusk and street lights were lit up one after another. I heard laughter in the dark. It turned out that a few children were chasing fireflies in the grass. The green light was sometimes high and sometimes low, and the children's laughter rose and fell with it. I remembered that it was the same when I was young. Now the fireflies are getting fewer and fewer, but the childish fun has not changed.
Yuanshan is just a low hill, but it contains so much fun. People in the city come here to breathe, and they become part of the mountain. When the sun rises tomorrow, the shadows of the trees, the light of the flowers, and the voices of people will overlap on the stone steps to create a new picture.
The mountain does not remember the years, but only the people.