黄森林

前天出了趟远门，到车站去搭乘久违的公共汽车。坐到车上，离发车的时间尚早，还有半个小时之久，便顿感百无聊赖起来，于是，就给不安分的眼睛2一个放肆的理由，四处看看。车站是一个缩小的世界，各色人等3汇集。人们往来穿梭，嘈杂、骚动、沉闷，让人心绪难宁4。等车抑或等时间，我想这应是人生中最无奈的事情了。生平最讨厌的事情就是等车、等人。应该说5，我是一个很守时的人。因为，我觉得时间不会等人，我们只有走在时间的前头，才对得起与时间的相约。

目光就那么四处地游移着，我看到人间应该有的一幕幕，亲人相送的场面，卖瓜子、矿泉水小贩的吆喝，车主拉客人的情景等等都被我的视网膜一一捕获。最后，我的目光定格在临近的一辆长途车上，是因为车窗边的一位女子，一位正埋头看书的女子。

就那么发现了她，我的心一动。真的，那一刻，我的心真的那么莫名地一阵律动，這是当时真实的感受。6我们之间就隔着两层玻璃和四米左右的距离。但我不能看清她的脸，我的位置是在她的侧后方，我看到的只是她的背影。从背影上看，她应该是一位年轻的女子，因为她那头长长的披肩发泛起的是青春的光泽7。

她始终保持着那种埋头看书的姿势，可能书的内容很精彩，精彩得让她流连书中，舍不得让目光离开8，只是偶尔地翻一下书页，然后就是静静地阅读。所以，我一直没有看清她的脸庞。只有在心中胡乱地揣想罢了。

她就那么看着书，任车站内熙来攘往，任时光在车窗内外悄悄流逝，一切仿佛都与她无关9。在那个喧嚣的车站，一个女子能偏安一隅，静心看一会儿书，这真的是不简单的事情。至于她看的是什么书，那都是不重要的了。重要的是她在看书。在这个尘嚣的世界10，还有人能够自寻安静，沉浸书中，不能不让人感动。书，这个文字的载体，现在仿佛离我们的生活渐行渐远了，又有多少人愿意抽出时间，认真地读一会儿书呢？11一个女子，能在那鼎沸嘈嚷的环境下，置身物外，潜心阅读，她应该是一位不俗的人12。我是这么想的。

该出发了，发车的铃声响起，接着司机发动了客车。车子的启动，惊动了她，她终于抬起了头，我看到了她的脸，端庄、秀气、青春。这时，我看到了那书，是一本大家都比较熟悉的文摘杂志的合订本。

随着车子的缓缓移动，我们各自踏上旅程。也许我再不会见到她。但是，在我的记忆中，永远会有一道风景闪现，那个车站，那个在车窗旁安静看书的女子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.