黃森林

前天出了趟遠門，到車站去搭乘久違的公共汽車。坐到車上，離發(fā)車的時間尚早，還有半個小時之久，便頓感百無聊賴起來，于是，就給不安分的眼睛2一個放肆的理由，四處看看。車站是一個縮小的世界，各色人等3匯集。人們往來穿梭，嘈雜、騷動、沉悶，讓人心緒難寧4。等車抑或等時間，我想這應是人生中最無奈的事情了。生平最討厭的事情就是等車、等人。應該說5，我是一個很守時的人。因為，我覺得時間不會等人，我們只有走在時間的前頭，才對得起與時間的相約。

目光就那么四處地游移著，我看到人間應該有的一幕幕，親人相送的場面，賣瓜子、礦泉水小販的吆喝，車主拉客人的情景等等都被我的視網(wǎng)膜一一捕獲。最后，我的目光定格在臨近的一輛長途車上，是因為車窗邊的一位女子，一位正埋頭看書的女子。

就那么發(fā)現(xiàn)了她，我的心一動。真的，那一刻，我的心真的那么莫名地一陣律動，這是當時真實的感受。6我們之間就隔著兩層玻璃和四米左右的距離。但我不能看清她的臉，我的位置是在她的側后方，我看到的只是她的背影。從背影上看，她應該是一位年輕的女子，因為她那頭長長的披肩發(fā)泛起的是青春的光澤7。

她始終保持著那種埋頭看書的姿勢，可能書的內(nèi)容很精彩，精彩得讓她流連書中，舍不得讓目光離開8，只是偶爾地翻一下書頁，然后就是靜靜地閱讀。所以，我一直沒有看清她的臉龐。只有在心中胡亂地揣想罷了。

她就那么看著書，任車站內(nèi)熙來攘往，任時光在車窗內(nèi)外悄悄流逝，一切仿佛都與她無關9。在那個喧囂的車站，一個女子能偏安一隅，靜心看一會兒書，這真的是不簡單的事情。至于她看的是什么書，那都是不重要的了。重要的是她在看書。在這個塵囂的世界10，還有人能夠自尋安靜，沉浸書中，不能不讓人感動。書，這個文字的載體，現(xiàn)在仿佛離我們的生活漸行漸遠了，又有多少人愿意抽出時間，認真地讀一會兒書呢？11一個女子，能在那鼎沸嘈嚷的環(huán)境下，置身物外，潛心閱讀，她應該是一位不俗的人12。我是這么想的。

該出發(fā)了，發(fā)車的鈴聲響起，接著司機發(fā)動了客車。車子的啟動，驚動了她，她終于抬起了頭，我看到了她的臉，端莊、秀氣、青春。這時，我看到了那書，是一本大家都比較熟悉的文摘雜志的合訂本。

隨著車子的緩緩移動，我們各自踏上旅程。也許我再不會見到她。但是，在我的記憶中，永遠會有一道風景閃現(xiàn)，那個車站，那個在車窗旁安靜看書的女子13。

I went to the bus station for a long trip the day before yesterday. It has been a long while since my last bus trip. I felt very bored and had nothing to do but wait on the bus as departure was still about half an hour away. But it gave my curious eyes enough time to look around. The bus station is a noisy， restless， and tedious miniature world， where people from all walks of life come and go. To me， waiting for a bus or someone is the most helpless in the true sense of the word. I hate to do such things in my whole life because I myself am a particularly punctual person. Anyway， time is not on the part of waiting for a traveler， and only that you go ahead of time， could you have its appointment for you.

Looking around， I saw people exchanging farewells to their families， peddlers hawking their sun-flower seeds or bottled water， and drivers touting passengers. And all these earthly scenes seemed to be projected on my retinas. My sight finally rested on a girl who sat by the window on the bus next to mine and buried herself in a book.

The moment I caught sight of her， my heart just skipped a beat. And then， it beat so fast and beyond words. All that just happened in the blink of an eye. We were about four meters away from each other and only blocked by the windows of the two buses， but I could not have a clear view of her face from behind， only a view of her back. I reckoned that she was young for vigor of youth exuded from her long hair.

She kept reading without a move， so I supposed what she was reading was so appealing to her that she did not move her sight a little except for flipping over the pages. I did not see her face， and it was all in my imagination.

The young woman was engaged in her reading， paying attention neither to the crowd on the other side of the pane of the window nor to the elapsing of time， as if reading is above everything to her. It is actually rare to see a young woman concentrating on reading in spite of noises. What she was reading doesnt matter， while the fact that she was reading does. It was really a touching picture since in this world of vanity there are still people who are willing to calm down to enjoy reading. Which one of us would like to find time to read since we have long been estranged from books， the carrier of words？ A lady who is able to get down to reading in the madding crowd should be a person of good taste. This is what I believe.

The time for departure came with a bell ringing. As the bus driver started the engine， the roaring of the engine pulled the young woman back from the book. She raised her head， and I could finally see her face， comely， pretty and young. I also caught a glimpse of the book in her hand， bound volumes of a popular reader digest.

As the buses moved， we set off for separate trips. Maybe I could never have a chance to come across her again， but this beautiful encounter should last in my memory for the rest of my life： at the bus station， the young lady reading by the window.