寒假回老家,车窗外飘着小雪,瓦檐上、阡陌间已积了不少雪,大片晶莹的白色一闪而过。我有些不解,如此温柔的江南,怎么会覆盖上厚厚的雪,不是应该永远都温润如春般地浸在水墨烟雨中吗?车驶近老屋,屋前立着一个人,撑着黑色的伞。隔着雪幕,我却看清了他眼角的笑意和斑白的眉——是外公。车停了,外公迎了上来,嘴唇翕动几下,却什么也没说出来,只是欣喜地细细打量着我。他的眼睛还是黑得像墨、深得像潭,只是当年的锋芒已不再。我看着眼前熟悉又陌生的他,轻唤一声:“外公,我回来了。” Winter vacation back home, the window floated with snow, tile eaves, paddy room has accumulated a lot of snow, large white crystal flash over. I am a bit puzzled, so gentle Jiangnan, how to cover the thick snow, not always be gentle as immersed in ink and wash rain like it? Car approaching the old house, standing in front of a house, propped Black umbrella. Across the snow curtain, I saw his eyes smile and white eyebrow - is my grandfather. The car parked, the grand welcome, the lips move a few, but did not say anything, but delightedly looked at me carefully. His eyes were still black like ink, deep like the lake, but the edge of the year is no longer. I looked at him familiar and unfamiliar with him, softly called: “Grandpa, I am back. ”