□ R. Carson／[美]萊契爾·卡遜

One of my own favorite approaches to a rocky seacoast is by a rough path through an evergreen forest that has its own peculiar enchantment. It is usually an early morning tide that takes me along that forest path， so that the light is still pale and fog drifts in from the sea beyond. It is almost a ghost forest， for among the living spruce and balsam are many dead trees-- some still erect， some sagging earthward， some lying on the floor of the forest. All the trees， the living and the dead， are clothed with green and silver crusts of lichens. Tufts of the bearded lichen or old man's beard hang from the branches like bits of sea mist tangled there. Green woodland mosses and a yielding carpet of reindeer moss cover the ground. In the quiet of that place even the voice of the surf is reduced to a whispered echo and the sounds of the forest are but the ghosts of sound--the faint sighing of evergreen needles in the moving air; the creaks and heavier groans of half-fallen trees resting against their neighbors and rubbing bark against bark; the light rattling fall of a dead branch broken under the feet of a squirrel and sent bounding and ricocheting earthward.

But finally the path emerges from the dimness of the deeper forest and comes to a place where the sound of surf rises above the forest sounds--the hollow boom of the sea， rhythmic and insistent， striking against the rocks， falling away， rising again.

Up and down the coast the line of the forest is drawn sharp and clean on the edge of a seascape of surf and sky and rocks. The softness of the sea fog blurs the contours of the rocks; gray water and gray mists merge offshore in a dim and vaporous world that might be a world of creation， stirring with new life.

我自己最喜歡的一條通向布滿巖石的海濱之路是一條崎嶇小徑，這條小徑穿過一片四季常青、具有獨(dú)特魅力的森林。通常，清晨的早潮引我走向那條森林小徑，那時(shí)天色朦朧，霧從海的那邊飄過來。這幾乎是一片幽靈之林，因?yàn)樵谀切┗钪脑粕己拖阒渖贾虚g有很多枯樹——一些仍然直立著，一些則垂向地面，還有一些倒伏在森林的地面上。所有這些樹，不論生死，都披著一層綠色和銀色的地衣。一簇簇須毛叢生的地衣如老人的胡須從樹枝上掛下，就像一縷縷海霧縈繞于斯。綠色的林地苔蘚和一層不斷蔓生的馴鹿苔蘚覆蓋著地面。置身于此地的寧靜之中，連拍岸的海浪聲也減弱為喃喃的回響，而森林之聲也宛如聲之幽靈——四季常青的松針在風(fēng)中微微嘆息;半倒的樹靠在鄰樹上，樹皮互相摩擦發(fā)出陣陣咯咯聲和更重的呻吟聲；被松鼠踩斷的枯枝掉地后反復(fù)彈動，發(fā)出輕微的嘎嘎聲。

但是，小徑最終穿過森林深處的幽暗，來到一地，此地海浪之聲蓋過了森林之聲——大海富有節(jié)奏，持續(xù)不斷地發(fā)出低沉的轟鳴，撞擊著巖石，落下去，又升起來。

在由海浪、天空和巖石構(gòu)成的海景邊緣，森林的線條沿著海岸起伏，被勾勒得鮮明清晰。輕柔的海霧使巖石的輪廓變得朦朧，灰白色的海水和海霧在近岸處融入一片朦朧而霧氣騰騰的世界，這也許是一個(gè)創(chuàng)造的世界，正涌動著新的生命。