CHAPTER XII

初旅波士頓之後，我幾乎每年都在北方過冬。有一次我去一個新英格蘭鄉間，看冰凍的湖和遼闊的雪地；這是我第一次有機會認識雪，深入感受它的珍貴可愛。

我記得…喬木和灌木都被一隻神秘的手剥光了，留下滿地落葉發皺；這發現讓我吃驚。鳥兒飛走了，它們原來築在枝葉裡的巢，裸出了，盛滿白雪。冬天漫天舖蓋小山、丘陵和原野，它冰冷無情的觸摸讓大地看起來僵硬麻木，讓樹木特有的氣魄羞怯退縮回根部，捲曲在那裡的黑暗中躺著匆匆睡去。所有的生命都衰落了；即使太陽曬著，日子是

畏縮和寒冷，

好像她的血管枯萎破舊了；

因此東倒西歪蹣跚而立，

想看最後一眼模糊的大地和海洋。 

枯萎的草地和凋謝的樹林變成冰柱的森林。 

那時候，有一天暴風雪遠遠傳來冷冽的寒意；我們跑到戶外去觸摸初次的稀落雪花。柔和的雪花靜悄悄的從高空落下地面，下了好幾個鐘頭，漸漸的就鋪平了整個鄉間。歷經整夜的風雪封閉，天亮時幾乎沒人能夠認得任何一個地景原來的面貌。所有的道路都潛藏匿跡，連一個地標也看不到；只有一些樹木立在荒廢的雪地上。 

傍晚出現了東北風，雪花更加狂亂到處亂飄。我們圍坐在熱烈的爐火邊，興高采烈說故事、嬉戲，完全忘了我們是隔絕在荒蕪的孤寂中，和外在世界失去了任何聯繫。但是，整個晚上風雪更加狂暴，嚇得我們有點恐慌。當風雪在鄉間到處肆虐，房頂的木架緊張得咯吱咯吱響個不停，窗子也被四周林木的樹枝持續慌亂鞭打。 

這場暴風雪鬧了三天才停息；太陽從雲層裡鑽出來，照耀一片波浪般起伏的遼闊曠野。到處散亂的躺著奇形怪狀的高丘、三角堆和無法越過的雪堆。 

雪堆被鏟出小路，我穿上披風和風帽出去玩。冷冽的空氣像烈火那樣刺痛我臉頰，我們有時走小路有時跋涉小雪堆，終於成功抵達一片寬闊牧草場外的松樹林。松林一動也不動的站著，像雪白的大理石雕塑。松木的針葉沒飄出香味，但是在陽光閃耀中發出鑽石光芒；我們一碰，就像下雨紛落。真是讓人眩目的燦爛光彩，我能感受到這樣的耀眼甚至穿透了讓我我眼盲的黑暗。 

隨著時間漸去，四處的雪堆也漸縮小，但是在它們完全融化之前又鬧了一陣暴風雪，以至於整個冬天我幾乎一次也沒能感受到腳下的土地。有時候樹林能擺脫冰雪的覆蓋，蘆葦和林下的矮樹叢也能欣然裸出，但是，結凍的湖在陽光下始終堅硬如故。 

冬天裡我們喜愛的活動是乘平底雪橇滑冰，我們通常是從湖面邊緣陡起的湖岸斜坡向下滑落；我們登上雪橇後，會有一個男孩推我們一把，讓我們向下滑行。越過雪堆、跳過漥地，往湖面俯衝，我們會飛速滑過閃爍的湖面，直到對岸。噯呀，真好玩，真會讓人高興得發狂。在無法無天的歡樂片刻中，我們忽然從大地對我們的禁制中解脫，乘風飛行，覺得自己非常了不起！ 

(待續)

AFTER my first visit to Boston, I spent almost every winter in the North. Once I went on a visit to a New England village with its frozen lakes and vast snow fields. It was then that I had opportunities such as had never been mine to enter into the treasures of the snow.  

I recall my surprise on discovering that a mysterious hand had stripped the trees and bushes, leaving only here and there a wrinkled leaf. The birds had flown, and their empty nests in the bare trees were filled with snow. Winter was on hill and field. The earth seemed benumbed by his icy touch and the very spirits of the trees had withdrawn to their roots, and there, curled up in the dark, lay fast asleep. All life seemed to have ebbed away, and even when the sun shone the day was  

Shrunk and cold,
As if her veins were sapless and old,
And she rose up decrepitly
For a last dim look at earth and sea.  

The withered grass and the bushes were transformed into a forest of icicles. 

Then came a day when the chill air portended a snowstorm. We rushed out-of-doors to feel the first few tiny flakes descending. Hour by hour the flakes dropped silently, softly from their airy height to the earth, and the country became more and more level. A snowy night closed upon the world, and in the morning one could scarcely recognize a feature of the landscape. All the roads were hidden, not a single landmark was visible, only a waste of snow with trees rising out of it. 

In the evening a wind from the northeast sprang up, and the flakes rushed hither and thither in furious melee. Around the great fire we sat and told merry tales, and frolicked, and quite forgot that we were in the midst of a desolate solitude, shut in from all communication with the outside world. But during the night, the fury of the wind increased to such a degree that it thrilled us with a vague terror. The rafters creaked and strained, and the branches of the trees surrounding the house rattled and beat against the windows, as the winds rioted up and down the country.  

On the third day after the beginning of the storm the snow ceased. The sun broke through the clouds and shone upon a vast, undulating white plain. High mounds, pyramids heaped in fantastic shapes, and impenetrable drifts lay scattered in every direction. 

Narrow paths were shoveled through the drifts. I put on my cloak and hood and went out. The air stung my cheeks like fire. Half walking in the paths, half working our way through the lesser drifts, we succeeded in reaching a pine grove just outside a broad pasture. The trees stood motionless and white like figures in a marble frieze. There was no odour of pine-needles. The rays of the sun fell upon the trees, so that the twigs sparkled like diamonds and dropped in showers when we touched them. So dazzling was the light, it penetrated even the darkness that veils my eyes. 

As the days wore on, the drifts gradually shrunk, but before they were wholly gone another storm came, so that I scarcely felt the earth under my feet once all winter. At intervals the trees lost their icy covering, and the bulrushes and underbrush were bare; but the lake lay frozen and hard beneath the sun. 

Our favourite amusement during that winter was tobogganing. In places the shore of the lake rises abruptly from the water's edge. Down these steep slopes we used to coast. We would get on our toboggan, a boy would give us a shove, and off we went! Plunging through drifts, leaping hollows, swooping down upon the lake, we would shoot across its gleaming surface to the opposite bank. What joy! What exhilarating madness! For one wild, glad moment we snapped the chain that binds us to earth, and joining hands with the winds we felt ourselves divine!