爸爸时常盼着，有一天能回到家乡，攒够钱在老家山里盖间有整排落地窗的屋子，夜里月亮攀上山头，便仰躺着看一片星光洒在屋前梅花枝头，衬那雪梅更栩栩生辉。

这梦在心里生了根，仿佛每晚的月光都洒过那间小屋，屋后的茶树正开着茶花，竟似坠入凡间的星河，淡淡茶香与柔和的光缠绕着，一丝一缕将小屋包拢着。

难得凉爽的日子，去登山吧!远远一睹山峦起伏的壮丽，爸爸自语似的:“还是喜爱山啊!”故乡是由山环绕的小城，房子建在半山腰上，开门便是一片青葱山林，上山的小径被肆意生长的枝茎掩埋，青苔覆山岩，溪水透彻着苔痕的翠绿，自那石缝间穿梭而过……

荒草间跳出的山径蜿蜒向上，雨后湿润的泥土小心行过时仍有“啪嗒”的水声，积水簇聚起来形成的瀑布隐密在一片深浅不一的绿色间，声音在林间空幽的回响，空气里有水渍与绿叶的清新，拨开湿漉的叶片，身后是已过的崎岖山路。

“还记得爷爷家的山吗?”他总会为此兴致勃勃，“我小时候也是每天都走这般坎坷的小路，赶时间时，飞奔着跳过那起伏的山丘，漫长的路，几个人笑着闹着，很快便跑过去了。”爸爸已很少回忆，他更多时是在怅惘，“我以后就建上间房，侍弄些花草，春天里便扛上锄头去竹林里挖笋，燃上炉，日出晨曦时，炊烟已袅袅。闲时，也不过如此。”

太阳渐渐驱散了阴云，炙热且耀眼的扑上来，路边渐渐便鲜有水洼了。洗过尘的叶焕然一新，清新的气味蒸发怠尽，脚步声里掺进了些喘息，树木稀疏处，阳光无遮无挡地铺洒下来，不由得加快了脚步。高地，一棵粗壮的皂角树繁茂的枝叶带来大片的绿萌，长叹着卸下背包，倚靠着树干斜坐在石块上。远闻时聒噪的“知了”声，忽然一片，寂默，别树上的蝉鸣便衬得格外的响。

“我家山上也有一棵硕大的皂角树，成熟的果实摘下作肥皂洗衣。青绿色的果实与枝叶相连，如同一片帷幕，亲戚们围坐在树下，便有一搭没一搭的闲聊。巍巍的高山，山上户户人家间都难免沾亲带故，下山上山，总能碰见‘自家人’，便停下来客套几句，再挥手作别，这山上每片斑驳屋瓦下，都是家人。”

老人间更是亲切，他们在皂角树下叙旧，谈天，不知度过了多少无事且孤独的日子。

稍作休息，爸爸已先爬过一段路，在半山腰等着我们。熬过烈日的暴晒，半山腰上，大片的榆林令人又不禁重燃希望。墨绿的松针透着股肃静的气息，即便有早先的休憩，脚步却不免愈发沉重。飞快越过几级石阶，就得弯着腰，手撑扶着膝盖，气喘吁吁，行进速度越发拖沓，但步步挨着，山峰终是近了。

爸爸却显出平日难得的奋进，似是没有疲倦。他走在前列，飞快地跨过高高的石阶，开路般移开挡道的枝叉，洋溢着的，似是多年前那个，天未亮便上山背柴的孩子身上活力的样子。“我若是爬山，绝不会觉得累的!”

我们坐在山峰的巨石上，俯瞰走过的漫漫山路，心中五味杂陈，爸爸仍不厌其烦地念叨，“我要在山上盖间房，也种棵树，等我老了，树也长高了，在树下纳凉，看天上的星星，山里的晚上，晚风总是很凉爽。”

英语翻译：

Dad always hoped that one day he could return to his hometown, and he saved enough money to build a house with floor-to-ceiling windows in his home mountain. At night, when the moon climbed up the mountain, he lay on his back and watched the stars sprinkle on the plum blossom branches in front of the house. Xuemei is more vivid.

This dream took root in my heart, as if the moonlight was spilling over the hut every night, and the tea tree behind the house was blooming with camellia, it seemed to fall into the mortal galaxy, the faint fragrance of tea and the soft light entwined with each other. The strands wrapped the hut.

On a rare cool day, go hiking! Seeing the magnificence of the ups and downs from a distance, my father said to himself: "I still love mountains!" The hometown is a small town surrounded by mountains. The house is built on the hillside and the door opens. In the lush forests, the trails up the mountain are buried by the wanton growth of branches and stalks, the moss is covering the rocks, and the stream is penetrated by the emerald green of the moss marks, passing through the cracks in the rocks...

The mountain path that jumps out of the wild grass meanders upwards. When the moist soil after the rain is carefully passed by, there is still a "click" sound. The waterfall formed by the accumulation of water is hidden in a green of different shades, and the sound is in the forest. The space reverberates quietly, the air is fresh with water stains and green leaves. Pulling away the wet leaves, behind is the rugged mountain road that has passed.

"Remember the mountains of Grandpa's house?" He would always be excited about it. "When I was a child, I took such a bumpy path every day. When I was in a hurry, I flew and jumped over the undulating hills, the long way. A few people laughed and clamored, and soon ran over.” My father has very little memory, he is more often confused, “I will build a room and take care of some flowers and plants, and I will go to the bamboo forest with a hoe in the spring. I dig bamboo shoots and burn them on the stove. When the sun rises in the morning, the smoke is already curling up. It's nothing more than this in free time."

The sun gradually dissipated the clouds, hot and dazzling, and gradually there were few puddles on the roadside. The dust-washed leaves look new, the fresh smell evaporates, and the sound of footsteps is mixed with some breathing, and the trees are sparsely covered and the sun is spreading unobstructed, and can not help speeding up the pace. On the high ground, the luxuriant branches and leaves of a sturdy jasmine tree brought large green sprouts. He sighed and unloaded his backpack and sat leaning against the trunk on the rocks. When I heard it from a distance, the noisy "getting" sound suddenly became silent, and the cicadas on the other trees made a louder sound.

"There is also a huge Quillaja tree on the mountain. The ripe fruits are picked for soap and laundry. The turquoise fruits are connected to the branches and leaves, like a curtain, and relatives sit around the tree and chat with each other. On the lofty mountains, every family on the mountain inevitably touches relatives. When you go down the mountain, you can always see your own family, so you stop to say a few polite words, and then wave your hand goodbye. Under every mottled roof on this mountain, there is a family member. "

The elderly are even more cordial. They reminisced and talked under the saponaria tree, and they don't know how many days without incident and loneliness have been spent.

After taking a break, my father had already climbed a section of the road and was waiting for us halfway up the mountain. After being exposed to the scorching sun, the large tracts of Yulin on the mountainside c