与日月成长

我两个儿子自小不喜欢写作，可能是因为写作需要思考和组织。我没有强迫他们，写作喜好与否都可能随年龄有所改变。我常鼓励他们有空写英作给我，我可以更正一下他们语句及文法的错误，和提供一些意见。我小时随马赞勋老师诵古文，我获益良多。我觉得我两个儿子都应随我学习，如他们有好的中文根底，将来或许不会给人假洋鬼子的感觉。这方面小儿子还可以，大儿子就不大行，特别是记忆方面好像不怎样好的。我一向认为父母以身作则，孩子便会慢慢跟随。孩子妈妈在学述方面的兴趣不大，我没有强她求，随她便是。我教他们，没有环境的辅助，揠苗助长也未必能成功，只和他们说何时想学的时候就告知我吧。他们的中英语作文都不好，小儿子连基本的篇幅都不完整，为了凑足字数，片语和段落不断重覆再重覆，他的思绪就是如此，我和他妈妈说当他较其他孩子小两岁，这样便可接受了。

上周大儿子写了一篇学校的作文给我，他说他觉得不错，给我看看。我看後心里负担减轻了，感到孩子的智慧确是随日月成长，已往的担心是多馀的。他有他们的天地，追随别人不一定不较我好，况且我自已也不是成功。我把他那文章录於比，以印证日月。

他今年14岁。游桂林在2007年4月，时年10岁。

Elephant Trunk Hill

The sun broke out of its cage as the bright fireball laid its beams on Elephant Trunk Hill. The light shone, and brought out the view of the hill. Standing tall on the lake, the elephant laid its trunk on the lake water and a space existed between the body and the trunk, formed by the thousand years of weathering. Natural environment was rare in China, and this hill was one of the most heart-pounding landmarks, exciting anyone who laid their eyes on this hill. To imagine the thousand years of formation was one thing for the tourists to admire nature and her very many artifacts.

The lake was in perfect contrast to the hill. The hill was a grey and brown colour, as made appealing by the emerald green, presented by the lake. As the tourists set out in a wooden raft, the residents in the lake appeared from the bottom of the lake and greeted the visitors. Numerous fish swam up towards the raft, dozen of colour blushed through the surface of the water like the oil painting in the museum, slashes of red, yellow and purple associated themselves with the green lake water. As the tourists looked down to have a closer look, they swung their tails and dove away. Other than the animals in the lake, the green seaweeds in the lake floated above the lake, acting as a blanket, covering the lake bed from the views of the tourists. They waved at the tourists as the current continued to push the raft towards the shore. As a raft floated across, layers of green waved fanned out.

After a sail around the island, the tourists came ashore and reached the dry yellow island that reminded one of an amber that shone under the sun's radiation. Trails of footprints led to the base of the hill. It was a rough and solid feeling as the tourists laid their hands on the steep sides. Rocks spiked out on all directions and patches of green moss covered the hollow holes as from far, the hill looked like an elephant with green hair. Yet, if described by the age of an elephant, the hill would have been an elder, judging by the weathering that caused a rugged outer layer, which resembled an aged hide of the mighty beast. The rugged sides were often used by the native birds as places for settlements. Seagulls screeched as they encircled the hill a couple of times and the voices rang out across the lake.

As night approached, the sun rested and shifted down the sky to make its way back home. The sky raged as the colour of its cheek reddened, as if anger had caused a major blood rush, angry of the early night fall. The bright ravishing colour spread across the nocturnal sky, conquering every part of the sky and claimed it as its own. And with no signs, the sky calmed down as the red disappeared to nowhere and stars appeared, blinking at the tourists, with million stories waiting for someone to sit down and listen. The moon hang high in the air as the tourists watched the moon's shadow covering up the hill.

Elephant Trunk Hill stood silently and said nothing in reply as the tourists waved goodbye. Harsh wind blew from behind the hill, as if the hill was too shy to say goodbye and wished to be left alone in peace. Despite it was night, the seaweed in the lake waved energetically. Smiles found their way onto the tourists' faces. One common thought flew across their minds – no matter when, the hill was truly the most resplendent place in Gulin.