挂在门楣上的粽叶已经变成了灰褐色,风飒飒地吹着那捆粽叶。祖母坐在门槛上,注视着檐下的雨水像小瀑布一样落下来,汇在石子儿路上,匆匆忙忙。春天,祖母挎着竹篮走过横七竖八的村弄,去五里外的白洋湖边采青粽叶。我跟着她。我们站在湖边的黄沙地上望着四处可见的苇丛,然后赤脚涉过一片浅水,走进最南面那丛芦苇里。祖母喜欢这里的粽叶。“这水里有小青蛇,我看见过。”祖母说。“你不怕吗?”我看见祖母踩在一片暗水中。“小青蛇不咬人。小青蛇游过的水里,长苇子都是甜的。”祖母对着湖水自言自语。“老家伙来拉我走了。”她一笑起来脸上便苍老了许多,那种笑是又凄凉 Zongye hanging on the lintel has become a taupe, the wind blowing that bundle of bamboo leaves. Grandmother sat on the threshold, watching the rain under the eaves fall like a small waterfall, sink in the stone child’s road, in a hurry. In spring, my grandmother left the village with bamboo baskets and walked through the village, getting the green bamboo leaves from Baiyang Lake five miles away. I followed her. We stood by the yellow sand on the lake watching the reeds visible everywhere, and then barefoot covered a shallow water, into the southernmost reed. Grandmother likes the dumplings here. “There is a snake in this water, I’ve seen it.” “My grandmother said. ”Are not you afraid?“ I saw my grandmother stepping on a dark water. ”Little Green Snake does not bite.“ The Little Green Snake swimming in the water, the reeds are sweet. ”Grandmother whispered to the lake. “Old guy to pull me away. ” She laughed a lot of old face, the kind of laugh is desolate