篱墙边一明一灭的红点,是根爷在抽烟。秋天肯定到了。根爷喜欢秋天。根爷单身,瘦小,没听他说过多少话。他只倾听,却不乐意听人言,因他是个听虫者。南瓜地里听蝈蝈,大豆地里听油葫芦,草丛里听油蛉,后院雨后听蚯蚓,瓦片下听蟋蟀,篱落处听螽斯,一坐就半夜,虫声如雨,却打不灭他的烟火,明明灭灭里,一个秋又一个秋,过去了,又再来。没有人进他的家,他的家是红泥墙,厚如城垣,残留着牛粪揭下后的圆印。蜜蜂钻的洞,并不够圆润。一方木格窗,窗棂是檀木树枝做的,多年过去了,依稀还能看到树皮。屋顶是芭茅草,但床顶却是洁白的蚊帐。串起蚊帐的青竹,怯怯地露出一截,吊着几个小巧的青篾笼。无人知道根爷何时入的村庄,他就像雨后忽然长出的一个蘑菇,没有来 The red spot on the edge of a fence is a smoking ground where the root god smokes. Autumn is certain. Root God like autumn. He single, thin, did not hear how many words he said. He just listened, but did not want to listen to people, because he is a listener. Pumpkin ground to listen 蝈 蝈, soybeans to listen to oil hyacinth, grass to listen to oil 蛉, earthworms after listening to the backyard, listen to crickets under the tile, fences listen 螽 Si, sit midnight, insects sound, but Hit and destroy his fireworks, obviously extinct, an autumn and autumn, passed, and again. No one into his home, his home is a red clay wall, thick as a wall, leaving the manure removed after the round of India. The hole drilled by a bee is not round enough. A wooden lattice window, window frame is made of sandalwood branches, many years later, faintly still can see the bark. The roof is pampos grass, but the bed is a white mosquito net. String bamboo nets, cowardly to reveal a few, hanging a few small barbarous cage. No one knows when the root of the root into the village, he is like a mushroom suddenly grow after the rain did not come