hurried

Zhu ziqing

Swallows have gone, and there is a time to come again; Willow withered, there is a time to green again; The peach blossom withered, but it blossomed again. But, smart, tell me, why are our days gone forever? Did someone steal them? Who's that? Where is it hidden? Did they escape by themselves? Where are we now?

I don't know how many days they gave me; But my hands are getting empty. Counting silently, more than 8 thousand days slipped away from me quietly; Like a drop of water on the tip of a needle in the sea, my days are dripping in the stream of time, without sound or shadow. I can't help bursting into tears.

Go wherever you go, and come wherever you come; What's the hurry between going and coming? When I get up in the morning, two or three sunsets shoot into the hut. The sun has feet, and it has moved gently and quietly; I also follow the rotation blankly. So-when washing your hands, the days pass from the basin; When eating, the days pass from the rice bowl; When I was silent, I passed by my eyes. I think he is in a hurry. When I reached out to cover my arm, he passed by the covered hand again. When I was lying in bed at dark, he passed me and flew away from my feet. When I open my eyes and see the sun again, it will be a new day. I covered my face and sighed. But the shadow of the new day began to flash with a sigh.

What can I do in the days when I fly away, in the world of thousands of families? Only wandering, only running; In the rush of more than 8,000 days, what is left except wandering? The past days, like smoke, were scattered by the breeze, like fog, evaporated by Chu Yang; What traces did I leave? Did I leave traces like hairspring? I came into this world naked, and I will go back naked in the blink of an eye? But it can't be flat. Why did you come for nothing this time?

You are very clever. Tell me, why are our days gone forever?

Lotus pond moonlight

Zhu ziqing

I'm very upset these days. Sitting in the yard enjoying the cool tonight, I suddenly remembered the lotus pond I walked through every day. It should look different under the light of this full moon. The moon rises gradually, and the children's laughter on the road outside the wall can no longer be heard; My wife is patting and skipping in the room, humming a sleeping song in a daze. I slipped on a big shirt and ran out the door.

Along the lotus pond, there is a winding little cinder road. This is a secluded road; Few people walk during the day, and it is lonely at night. Around the lotus pond, there are many trees and lush. On one side of the road, there are some willows and some trees with unknown names. On a moonless night, the road is gloomy and a little scary. It's fine tonight, although the moonlight is still very weak.

I was the only one on the road, walking around with my hands behind my back. This world seems to be mine; I also like to go beyond my usual self and go to another world. I like excitement and tranquility; Like to live in groups, like to be alone. Just like tonight, under this boundless moon, a person thinks about everything and thinks nothing, and feels like a free person. What must be done and said during the day can be ignored now. This is the beauty of being alone, and I will enjoy the boundless moonlight with lotus fragrance.

On the winding lotus pond, I look forward to the leaves of Tian Tian. The leaves are high out of the water, like an elegant dancer's skirt. Layers of leaves are dotted with some white flowers, some of which bloom gracefully and some are in bud shyly; Like a pearl, like a star in the blue sky, like a beauty who just took a bath. The breeze blew, sending wisps of fragrance, like a faint song on a tall building in the distance. At this time, the leaves and flowers also trembled slightly, like lightning, passing through the lotus pond in an instant. The leaves are close side by side, so there are clear wave marks. Below the leaves is flowing water, which is covered and can't see some colors; Leaves are more exposed to the wind.

Moonlight, like running water, falls quietly on this leaf and flower. A thin layer of blue mist floats in the lotus pond. Leaves and flowers seem to have been washed in milk; Like a dream in a sarong. Although it is a full moon, there are faint clouds in the sky, so it can't shine; But I think this is just a benefit-deep sleep is indispensable, and nap is unique. Moonlight shines through the trees, and the bushes at the height cast uneven and mottled shadows, which are as steep as ghosts; The sparse shadows of curved willows seem to be painted on lotus leaves. The moonlight in the pond is uneven; But light and shadow have a harmonious melody, such as a famous song played on Van Aling.

Around the lotus pond, there are trees far and near, and willows are the most. These trees surround a lotus pond; Only on one side of the path, there are some gaps, which seem to be reserved for moonlight. An example of the color of trees is cloudy, which at first glance looks like a cloud of smoke; But the abundance of willows can be recognized in the smoke. There are distant mountains on the treetops, just a little careless. There are still one or two lamps leaking through the cracks in the tree. What is listless is the eyes of those who are sleepy. At this time, the most lively are cicadas in the tree and frogs in the water; But the excitement is theirs. I have nothing.

I suddenly remembered the matter of picking lotus. Lotus picking is an ancient custom in the south of the Yangtze River. It seems to have a long history, but it flourished in the Six Dynasties. You can get a rough idea from this poem. Lotus pickers are teenage girls, swinging boats and singing bright songs. Needless to say, there are many lotus pickers. It was a lively season and a romantic season. It is well said in Emperor Liang Yuan's "Lotus Picking Fu": Therefore, the demon is a child or a woman, willing to boat; The snipe makes a first promise and passes the feather cup; You can move, seaweed can hang, and the boat can move and open. Erqi slim waist bundle element, Yan Gubu; After long summer, in late spring, leaves are tender and flowers are early. I'm afraid of touching the petticoats and laughing, and I'm afraid of leaning over the boat and getting together.

It can be seen that there were wandering scenes at that time. This is really interesting, but unfortunately we are not happy now.

Then I remembered the sentence in "Song of Xizhou": Lotus is picked in Nantang in autumn, and the lotus is over the head; With his head down, he fiddled with the lotus seeds in the water, which were as green as the lake.

If there are lotus pickers tonight, the lotus here will be considered "over the top"; You can't just see some shadows of running water. This makes me really miss Jiangnan. -think like this, suddenly look up and feel that it is already your own door; Gently pushed the door in, there was no sound, and my wife had slept for a long time.

1July, 927, Beijing Tsinghua Campus.

read

Lao She

I won't say anything if I let the scholar read. Probably books are not specially prepared for scholars; Well, then, I'm going to say it.

Since I was born, no one expected me to be a scholar; I always like to obey the opinions of the majority. But I like reading.

There are many kinds of books, but few can have friendship with me. I have full authority to decide what to read; I played truant since I was a child. I won't say that I love Saint Amethyst and Baijia surname. Yes, three-character classics can represent a kind of book. In my opinion, it is better to study after being sentenced to life imprisonment. Being alive is not very interesting anyway. There are so many such books, I don't know why; Perhaps there are too many people who commit life imprisonment; Otherwise, there are too few-I often want to kill some people who write such books themselves. I haven't killed one yet, because-I just realized-many people who wrote such books have died, such as Li who wrote Shangshu. Secondly, because some people still love reading such books, I can't offend too many people. At best, I think it is regardless of others; I don't like reading, but I just don't move. Fortunately, my father doesn't want me to be a scholar.

The second book has nothing to do with us either: it is full of formulas, without a "however" and "so". It is said that there is a small golden key in this kind of book, which can open the secrets of the universe. I have long wanted to understand some truths, such as that the earth is round; But this kind of book is awkward. It's always staring at me. If you don't treat a book honestly, why stare at people? I can't stand this anger! Once, a friend gave me a book, Principles of Relativity. He said: if you understand this, you will understand everything. I made up my mind to read this precious book. After reading two "papers", I came across a formula. I was "opposite" by it for more than two minutes! Looking back, there are more formulas! I know they probably don't care if I fall with them. Am I still alive?

But I always have some respect for such books. This kind of book is a little different from the first one, I can see it. The first kind of book is not incomprehensible, but it makes me more confused after I understand it. With my present understanding-I can become a saint now more than when I was seven years old-I can understand that "at the beginning of life, human nature is good." I understand, and then I am confused; Last night, I also got a mouth from my little daughter, an angel with rosy lips. I know this little angel is not good at sex. She is only two years old. The second book is completely incomprehensible, but there is no nonsense printed on other people's paper; You don't understand, people don't make a fuss, stare at me, or I should stare. My heart is so soft that I put it on the shelf; Play well, have a good rest, and don't get hurt too badly.

This involves a third kind of book. In fact, this should not be considered as a category; That's it. read smoothly. This kind of book is so famous that people who have read it always refuse to say that it is not good, and those who have not read it always say that they will be shy to read it. For example, Yuan Qu, Mr. Taiyan's article, Rome's tragedy, Sinclair's novel, Ta Kung Pao-I don't know where it was published-all belong to this category. I used to pick up these books and put them down at will. This is Ta Kung Pao. It's a little exciting. I'm not shy. I never said I would read it. Many books have great advertisements and reputations. I can only admit that those advertisements are well done. Who cares if they have prestige?

There are still many "classes", which is not convenient to say; Having the above three items is enough to prove how incompetent I am. Speaking and reading methods.

How to study here is a matter of self-determination; I said mine, and I didn't force anyone to learn from me. First, do not study systematically. What to borrow, what to buy, what to see and what to learn. Putting down what I don't understand makes me confused and boring. You're welcome. I can't let books control me.

Second, read quickly without memorizing. I must remember all the books. Why do I need books? Books should remember themselves. For me, the most annoying question is: "where is that allusion?" "What book is that?" I will never answer such a question, even if I remember. I was not raised by the printing press, whatever!

Read quickly, because I sometimes skip a few pages. If it doesn't suit me, I'll practice long jump. If the book is not convinced, come and dance with me! When reading detective stories, in order to save trouble, read the last few pages first.

Third, after reading a book, there is no criticism and no one speaks. It's bad when you talk about it: "Hey, did you watch In distress situation?" If everyone doesn't read The Cause of Crying, why does anyone write it? A bad criticism: "What's your opinion?" I'm not making people angry. Reading a book doesn't count. I have my love and dislike, and they exist in my own heart. I watch whatever I like, and I know what I have learned. This is a kind of enjoyment, although it seems selfish.

Besides, reading seems to require only a little inspiration. Impressive is a good book. I don't have time to analyze it carefully, and I can't criticize it at all. "Impressive" is sometimes not the whole book, but a passage that attracts me the most; Because this passage made me have a good impression on this book; In fact, the beauty of this paragraph is enough to ruin all the beauty, but I don't care; I like a paragraph for two days, and I am very grateful. So, if I really criticize, it's probably not brilliant.

Fourth, I don't want to talk about my own books. "My son is my own good", I don't know yet, because I haven't given birth to a son. There is a little daughter, and it is not known whether the daughter can represent the son. I dare not support "a wife is someone else's good", especially at home. But I must know that books are other people's good. Other people's books are not all good, but at least give me something I don't know. Your own, it hurts when you mention it! My own books and my own luck always seem to be a burden.

Read secretly

Lin (surname)

Turning the corner, I saw the soaring signboard of Sanyangchun, smelled the smell of cooking, and heard the knocking of the pot spoon. I breathed a sigh of relief and slowed down. I rushed here from school after class, sweating like a pig, and finally arrived at my destination-the destination was not Sanyangchun, but a bookstore next to it.

I used the opportunity of walking to give my brain a chance to think: "Where did you read yesterday?" Who will that girl marry in the future Where is that book? The third row in the left corner is good ... "When I walked to the entrance of Sanyangchun, I was relieved to see that the bookstore was still crowded with customers as before. But I'm worried about whether that book will be sold out, because I've been reading it for several days and it seems that there are only one or two books left yesterday.

I stepped into the bookstore door, feeling glad that no one noticed. I stood on tiptoe and let my little body rub against the gap between other customers and bookcases and get under the armpits of adults. Yo, I messed up my short hair. It doesn't matter. I squeezed in. In the queue of colorful covers, my eyes are too eager to find, but I can't see where the book is. Count it again from the beginning, ah! It is here, not where it was yesterday.

I'm glad it hasn't been sold, but it's still lying on the shelf, waiting for my arrival. How happy I am, how eager I am to reach for it, but at the same time as I reach out, there are a pair of huge palms, 10 fingers are greatly separated, holding down the whole book: "Do you want to buy it or not?"

The noise was loud and alarmed other customers. They all turned around and faced me. I'm like a caught thief, ashamed and embarrassed, and my face is red. I looked up at him shyly, the owner of the bookstore, and he looked down at me majestically. The shop is his, and he has every reason to treat me like this. I protested in a voice that was almost crying: "Can't you even watch?" In fact, how weak my voice is!

Under the eyes of the public, I almost walked out of the store in confusion, followed by the boss's sneer: "Not once!" " "Not once? That tone is very tolerant to me, as if I were an unforgivable old thief. But did I steal something? I'm just a poor student who can't afford and is eager to read that book!

After this humiliation, my heart was really traumatized. The inferiority complex caused by poverty broke out again and I hated adults.

I don't go to the bookstore anymore. Many times I gritted my teeth and walked through Wenhua Street. But once or twice, I subconsciously walked to the familiar street. Finally one day, my thirst for knowledge forced me to stop again. I still want to try, because I have known the advertisement for the publication of a new book from the newspaper for many days.

I tried the old trick again and hid in a corner of the bookstore. When I opened the first page, I couldn't help shouting softly in my heart: "Ah! Finally meet you! " This is a best seller. It is such a thick roll. If you hold it in your hand, it's enough weight! With the previous lesson, I am more cautious and dare not be greedy. It is more appropriate to go to several bookstores to avoid the previous embarrassment again.

Every time I come out of the bookstore, I feel drunk, my mind is disturbed by the characters in the book, I stumble and walk out of control. "Come early tomorrow, and you can finish reading it all." I told myself. The thought that I might occupy a corner of the bookstore tomorrow, I was carried away by happiness and excitement and almost hit the trunk.

But the next day, I visited several bookstores and didn't see this book. Just like holding a book that is being eagerly read, I am secretly anxious and cursing: because I have no money, I can't enjoy all the happiness of reading. There are so many rich people in the world who buy all the books.

I walked into the last bookstore in despair with my schoolbag in my hand. When I was reading here yesterday, there was still the last volume left. Yes, my heart sank when I saw another book on the shelf.

Just then, a shop assistant with a pencil in his ear came over. Seeing that he was coming to greet me (how afraid I was of being served), I quickly put my eyes on the bookshelf and pretended not to see it. But a book touched my arm and gently sent it to me: "Look, I stayed an extra day and didn't sell it."

Ah, I was ashamed to accept this book and didn't know how to express my gratitude to him, but he walked away casually. Impulsive emotions make my eyes unable to concentrate on books for a long time.

When the fluorescent lamp in the bookstore suddenly turned on, I felt that I had been here for two hours. I closed the last page and swallowed, as if I had swallowed all my wisdom. Then I looked up at the man with a pencil in his ear and returned the book to him. At the counter in the distance, he nodded to me gently, indicating that he knew I had finished reading it. I silently put the book back on the shelf.

I walked out with my head down, and my wrinkled black cloth skirt was blown away by the wind, like a broken umbrella that could not be opened, but my whole body was loose. It suddenly occurred to me that once Mr. Guo Wen encouraged us to study hard:

"Remember, you learn to grow up by eating!"

But today I found that this sentence is not enough. It should say:

"Remember, you grew up eating, reading and loving!"

Travel all over the world, books are lovers.

Loan Aiken

If you travel around the world by boat alone, if you can only take one thing to entertain yourself, which one would you choose? A beautiful picture, an interesting book, a box of playing cards, a music box or a harmonica ...

It seems difficult to make a choice.

If you ask me, I will not hesitate to answer: "I will choose a book."

A book! I heard someone sigh: if you travel around the world by boat, you can read it a hundred times on this trip and finally recite it.

To this, my answer is: yes, I am willing to read it a hundred times, and I am willing to read it to the extent that I can recite it. What does it matter? You don't want to see your friends again, just because you have seen them before, don't you? You won't leave home because you are familiar with everything at home, will you You love books like a friend, like your home. You have met your friends a hundred times, but when you see them again 10 1, you will say, "I didn't expect you to know this!" " "You go home every day, but no matter how many years have passed, you will still say," Why didn't I notice the light in that corner? It's so beautiful! " "

No matter how many times you read it, you can always find something new in a book.

Therefore, I am willing to sit on my boat and read that book over and over again. First of all, I will think about why the people in the story do this and why the writer writes this story. Then, I will continue to make up this story in my mind, go back and taste some of my favorite clips and ask myself why I like them. I will read the other parts again and find out what I overlooked before. After doing this, I will make a list of what I have learned from books. Finally, I will imagine what kind of person the author is and what kind of life experience he will have … It's really like traveling with another person.

The book you love is a friend and an old place where you can go if you want. In a sense, it is your own business, because no two people in the world will read the same book in the same way.

hen

Lao She

Always hated hens. Somehow, I'm a little scared. Listen, it rattles from the front yard to the back yard and from the back yard to the front yard for no reason; Damn it! Sometimes, it is not called that, but quiet, thoughtful, trembling slightly, along the wall or along the dam, and looks a little jealous at once.

It has never resisted a rooster. However, sometimes they bully the most loyal ducks. What's more, when it meets another hen, it will kill it, take advantage of it, take a hard bite and bite off a pinch of hair.

When it comes to laying eggs, it's almost crazy. I hope the whole world doesn't know its achievements; Even the deaf can't stand it.

However, now I have changed my mind. I saw a mother who hatched a group of chickens.

Whether inside or outside the hospital, it always hangs its neck, showing that there is nothing to be afraid of in the world. When a bird flies by, or something rings, it immediately becomes alert and listens with its head sideways. Turn over and prepare for battle; Looking back and forth, whispering to warn the chickens to gather around it at once!

When it finds something to eat, it growls, pecks at it, immediately puts it down and teaches its children to eat. As a result, every chick's belly is round and drooping, as if she had just installed one or two jiaozi, but she has lost a lot of weight. If other big chickens come for food, it will definitely attack and drive them away. Even the big cock is afraid.

It teaches chickens to peck, dig and bathe with soil; Several times a day. It is still squatting-I feel very tired-teaching them to squeeze under its wings and chest to keep warm. If it falls to the ground, some chicks will climb on its back and peck its head or other places, and it won't hum.

If there is any movement at night, it will scream loudly, sharp and miserable, so that anyone who sleeps should get up to see if there are any weasels.

It has responsibility, love, courage and hard work, because it has a flock of chicks. It's great because it's mother hen. Mother must be a hero.

I dare not hate hens any more.

"Ba Jin Impression" Wei Minglun

I have loved to read Mr. Ba Jin's series of novels "Riptide Trilogy" since I was a child. Worried about the new party, sad for Ruijiang, crying for Wufeng; Taking Youth Party Hui as a youth idol, he dreamed that he was disconnected from the rebellious children of Gaos family and went out of the gorge in the wind.

Ba Lao: You are the flame in my heart!

In the mid-1950s, Hong Kong films "Spring" and "Autumn", which were adapted from Ba Jin's masterpieces, swept the mainland and fascinated fans. The sad image of "Cousin Hui" on the screen is deeply left in my child's heart. In memory of this girl written by Ba Jin, I signed my name on my essay ChouHuei-my cousin Zhou Jiahui!

Ba Lao: You are a cloud in my mind!

In the early 1980s, Random Thoughts was published one after another. The old man who has gone through vicissitudes of life hates "deception and concealment". He set an example, resisted the pressure and insisted on telling the truth. Its spiritual realm, its personality strength, let me sincerely admire, enough for me to study for a lifetime.

Ba Lao: You are a mountain in my heart!

1982, I read a letter from an old Sichuan journalist, Che Fu, to Ba Lao's brother, Li Jisheng. The letter said: Ba Lao learned from the TV preview that CCTV will broadcast Four Girls written by Wei Minglun and performed by Zigong Sichuan Opera Troupe. The old man waited by the TV for a long time, absorbed in the play, and was very satisfied, and asked Li Jisheng to pay tribute to the playwright.

Ba Lao: Thank you for your concern for the younger generation. When can I listen to the teacher and show my mind?

1983 Zigong Sichuan Opera Troupe cooperated with the South China to perform "Bashan Scholar" in Shanghai, but I don't know why I didn't go. Soon, I went to Shanghai to give lectures at the invitation of Shanghai Theatre Festival, and Shanghai TV station filmed the news topic program "Wei Minglun in Shanghai" for this purpose. One afternoon, Yao, an Anhui friend who lives with me in the guest house of the Literature and Art Hall, invited me to visit Ba Lao in the nearby East China Hospital. Although I want to explore the situation, I think the old man is ill and may refuse to visit. Yao Yujuan promised that Ba Lao would pick him up when he went. It turned out that before the "Cultural Revolution", Yao had written to express his indignation and condolences to Yao, a "family member", who waved a "golden hoop stick" to the old man in Pakistan. More than ten years later, Ba Lao has not forgotten Yao, a "girl" who gave timely help. Only after the meeting did he know that this man was a bruiser! Literary giants miss old love too much.

When I arrived at East China Hospital, I finally met Ba Jin, who had been longing for a long time. He is white-haired and full of energy. As soon as he saw me, he said, "I know you." I saw you on the TV news yesterday. Your name is Wei Minglun. " "The last time Bashan Scholar and Yi Dan went to Shanghai to perform, you didn't come, but Nanguo was on TV." What a clear memory I have in my heart! An 80-year-old man remembers the name of a stranger and a shot that passed by in a hurry so accurately. Then, I reported my writing to Ba Lao. Ba Lao said, "I have seen all your plays on TV." Four Girls, Yi Dan, Bashan Scholar, you won three yuan in a row. I come from Sichuan, and you and I are both scholars in Bashan. "My heart is hot, what kind of care! A generation of literary giants have been lying in hospital beds for a long time, but they know the works of small villagers in Bashu like the back of their hands. In the chat, I mentioned that Mr. Huang gave me a Brecht book this time. Ba Lao immediately interjected: "It must be" Sichuan Good Man "!" My heart is startled, what a keen feeling! What profound knowledge! At that time, The Good Man of Sichuan had not been translated in China, and even few people in the theater knew the name of the play. After nearly an hour of conversation, Ba Lao encouraged me to think more, tell the truth and write a good script.

I bid farewell to the ward and turned to say, Ba Lao, when can I see you again? When can I go back to Bashan Shushui for my hometown tour?

From 65438 to 0987, during the fragrance season in Jin Ju, 83-year-old Ba Lao returned to Sichuan from Shanghai and came to Fuxi from the shore of Jinshui. He made a special trip to Zigong. First, he looked at dinosaurs; Second, he watches Sichuan Opera. When I first entered the hotel, I was asked about me, and I never forgot a heart-to-heart meeting with East China Hospital a few years ago. When I heard the news, I rushed to the hotel to visit. I see that Ba Lao is getting old, but I sincerely don't change. He started a family conversation with me: "Sichuan Opera in Zigong has been particularly famous in recent years. It's a few scripts you wrote that opened Zigong! " I smiled and told Ba Lao: "I wrote Pan Jinlian, and I wrote your old man's house in it!" " Suddenly read the lyrics of the play on a whim:

Keywords comparative study, cross-dynasty,

Ba Jin's Home is related!

Can Feng Leshan be like Mr. Zhang?

Feng Ming and Jinlian share the same sadness.

Where is third young master Chueh-hui now?

Master Bao and Third Young Master have a child. ...

The old man listened with a knowing smile.

That night, I accompanied Ba Lao to watch five of the five large-scale plays such as "Egan" performed by the troupe. Ba Lao is full of energy and interest. When the pedantic accusation in Bashan Scholar was still correcting the governor's words until the scholar died, it caused a burst of laughter from Ba Lao! Pan Jinlian's "pursuit" reached its climax and added a few words: "Mr. Guan, Mr. Wu, you are not like Mr. Bao!" It immediately caused Ba Lao to whisper to me: "In China, the feudal concept is still deeply rooted. The Sichuan opera Pan Jinlian is absurd in form and profound in content. This kind of exploration should be affirmed. " Ba Lao's daughter Li Xiaolin reminded her father several times: "Can't the body stand it?" Ba Lao was so addicted to traditional Chinese opera that he stared at the stage and said, "Never mind, just watch the play."

Ten years after the "Cultural Revolution", Ba Lao never went to the theater again, whether in Shanghai, Beijing or overseas, because he was old and ill. This time, I made an exception and went to our little Zigong theater for a trick addiction and sat for two and a half hours!

The next morning, I went to see me off. Ba Lao put his hand on it again: "You are not only hardworking, but also bold and rare. I hope that you will produce more new works and hope that Sichuan Opera will be revitalized. "

The old man boarded the journey and left me a roll of his famous novel Cold Night.

Ba Lao: You are a blazing fire, a brilliant cloud and a towering mountain!

If there is no dust, Zhou Yuangui

Dust is something that everyone hates. Harmful to environmental sanitation and human health. Therefore, throughout the ages, people have always been "diligent in wiping to avoid being contaminated with dust." However, have you ever thought that human beings can't live without dust?

If there is really no dust in nature, what kind of situation will we face?

The diameter of dust particles is generally between one ten thousandth and one millionth of a millimeter. The dust that the human eye can see is a giant in the dust, and the tiny dust can only be seen under a high-power microscope. The main sources of dust are soil and rocks. After weathering, they split into fine particles. These particles float in the air with other organic particles.

They absorb some sunlight and reflect it around, just like countless point light sources. The sunlight is greatly weakened by the reflection of dust, so it becomes soft. If there is no dust in the atmosphere, strong sunlight will make people unable to open their eyes.

Interestingly, dust particles also have a "strange temper", which tends to reflect violet, blue and cyan light with shorter wavelength, and "likes" to absorb other light with longer wavelength. The sky we see on the ground is blue because of the high dust content in the lower atmosphere. If there were no dust in the atmosphere, the sky would be white.

Most dust is hygroscopic. Water vapor in the air must adhere to dust to condense into small water droplets. In this way, when the water vapor in the air reaches saturation, the dispersed water vapor will adhere? Dust forms stable water droplets that can float in the air for a long time. If there is no dust in the air, everything on the ground will be wet. What's more, there can be no clouds in the sky, and it is impossible to form rain and snow to adjust the climate, so it is impossible for water evaporated from the ground to return to the ground. If there is less and less water on the earth and it dries up completely, living things can't survive. In addition, due to the refraction of these small water droplets to the sun's light, there will be sunset glow, morning glow, idle clouds, rainbow halo and other colorful natural scenery. If there were no dust in the air, how monotonous nature would be!