又住蒼山送舊年，無霜無雪晦雲天。
疏林寞寞楓餘赧，怒海滔滔浪競先。
綠野濛濛新牯歲，罡風颯颯故禾田。
鈴花得賞聽寒雨，夢覺濤嘈夜屬篇。
已丑正月初二夜於帳中
2009/01/24
Sweet Home
Home, sweet home!
The home is something every human must have.
If a guy lives in a flat on his own, he normally doesn't call it home. He might call it his place. If he has a family, then he has a home.
A home though it has to be, it can turn into something like a cage if the sweetness turns sour, with one or more family members having become bad or foul, or with the mortgage balance to be paid off exceeding the market value of the home by onefold or two, or with most of the timber got eaten hollow by termites to a poor state beyond repair, or......
When these sorts of things happen, one still has to go home everyday to enjoy the unhappiness it provides. He might go away as the door is free to open. But he simply can't. There exists an invisible bondage.
People have to have a home to be happy. Yet many people are not happy just because they have a home, many failed family relationships render a bitter home instead of a sweet one. People just have to put up with the bitter part, in order to maintain the home as it is, and let themselves be trapped in a confining unhappy space.
In the ancient times one builds himself and his family his own house, or hut, or shelter. Our forefathers came a long way from Africa to this part of the world to settle down. They created their homes with their own hands. This was what every single man was once supposed to be capable of doing. Nowadays in developed cities such capability has no place.
I built myself a hut when I was a teenager, and called it my place for more than two years. It survived torrents from the sky, typhoons from the ocean, and two cold winters from Mother Nature. The winters were a bit colder than we are having now, I recall vividly that I had to add a fireplace to burn some charcoal to keep it warm inside. With a space of only roughly 2 metres by 1.5 metres by 2 metres, it just didn't take much charcoal to keep it warm. It must be a miracle however, that the tiny wooden hut hadn't caught fire, and the builder and owner hadn't died of carbon monoxide poisoning!
Before building the hut, I had even dug a small cave on the hillside. Amazingly it didn't collapse in the rains, but it got really wet as water dripped from the root tips of the vegetation on top of it all the time, so it was not inhabitable during the rainy season. Soon I deserted it because it didn't feel really good staying in there.
Many little American boys sleep in a tent for the first time in their courtyard to experience camping. When they hear an animal approaching in the middle of the night they abandon the tent and rush back to their cozy room.
Back then in my early teens I was yet to know anything about camping. To the best of my belief all places other than home just had to be hazardous and scary. Without a courtyard and a tent I never had the luxury of enjoying such funny experience. But I did do something that no other kids across the world would like to do. I once fixed in a tree a piece of timber from a used traditional coffin of Southern Chinese style found on a hillside used to be a cemetery, for lying down up there as an option of enjoying a hot sunny afternoon under the foliage during summer vacation. I didn't call it my place of course. I recalled no caterpillers came to disturb. I was very much afraid of caterpillers.
Now a local city kid simply can't do any of these sorts of naughty things in this over developed metropolis. The several hundred square kilometres of land mass have long been packed with monster buildings and fancy houses. What a boy can do is to urge his parents to choose some units in there, have the father written a cheque, and then move in with all his electronic games devices. And there are places nearby in which he can eat to get fat conveniently. And there are still places nearby in which he can have fun when he has had enough computer games. And there are extra places abroad to which he can fly for holidays and shopping with his family. His father just needs to make enough money by doing what he is good at, like speculating in flats and stocks.
If the father goes well with his speculating, the boy will soon have a second home and even a third home without doing anything but being lazy.
I was unfortunate, without a successful father, I had to build myself a second home when I was a teenager. Now a poor old wildlander though I might be, I have a mobile shanty as my second home. I can always choose a scenic spot of greenery to set it up and call it my temporary place.
The home is something every human must have.
If a guy lives in a flat on his own, he normally doesn't call it home. He might call it his place. If he has a family, then he has a home.
A home though it has to be, it can turn into something like a cage if the sweetness turns sour, with one or more family members having become bad or foul, or with the mortgage balance to be paid off exceeding the market value of the home by onefold or two, or with most of the timber got eaten hollow by termites to a poor state beyond repair, or......
When these sorts of things happen, one still has to go home everyday to enjoy the unhappiness it provides. He might go away as the door is free to open. But he simply can't. There exists an invisible bondage.
People have to have a home to be happy. Yet many people are not happy just because they have a home, many failed family relationships render a bitter home instead of a sweet one. People just have to put up with the bitter part, in order to maintain the home as it is, and let themselves be trapped in a confining unhappy space.
In the ancient times one builds himself and his family his own house, or hut, or shelter. Our forefathers came a long way from Africa to this part of the world to settle down. They created their homes with their own hands. This was what every single man was once supposed to be capable of doing. Nowadays in developed cities such capability has no place.
I built myself a hut when I was a teenager, and called it my place for more than two years. It survived torrents from the sky, typhoons from the ocean, and two cold winters from Mother Nature. The winters were a bit colder than we are having now, I recall vividly that I had to add a fireplace to burn some charcoal to keep it warm inside. With a space of only roughly 2 metres by 1.5 metres by 2 metres, it just didn't take much charcoal to keep it warm. It must be a miracle however, that the tiny wooden hut hadn't caught fire, and the builder and owner hadn't died of carbon monoxide poisoning!
Before building the hut, I had even dug a small cave on the hillside. Amazingly it didn't collapse in the rains, but it got really wet as water dripped from the root tips of the vegetation on top of it all the time, so it was not inhabitable during the rainy season. Soon I deserted it because it didn't feel really good staying in there.
Many little American boys sleep in a tent for the first time in their courtyard to experience camping. When they hear an animal approaching in the middle of the night they abandon the tent and rush back to their cozy room.
Back then in my early teens I was yet to know anything about camping. To the best of my belief all places other than home just had to be hazardous and scary. Without a courtyard and a tent I never had the luxury of enjoying such funny experience. But I did do something that no other kids across the world would like to do. I once fixed in a tree a piece of timber from a used traditional coffin of Southern Chinese style found on a hillside used to be a cemetery, for lying down up there as an option of enjoying a hot sunny afternoon under the foliage during summer vacation. I didn't call it my place of course. I recalled no caterpillers came to disturb. I was very much afraid of caterpillers.
Now a local city kid simply can't do any of these sorts of naughty things in this over developed metropolis. The several hundred square kilometres of land mass have long been packed with monster buildings and fancy houses. What a boy can do is to urge his parents to choose some units in there, have the father written a cheque, and then move in with all his electronic games devices. And there are places nearby in which he can eat to get fat conveniently. And there are still places nearby in which he can have fun when he has had enough computer games. And there are extra places abroad to which he can fly for holidays and shopping with his family. His father just needs to make enough money by doing what he is good at, like speculating in flats and stocks.
If the father goes well with his speculating, the boy will soon have a second home and even a third home without doing anything but being lazy.
I was unfortunate, without a successful father, I had to build myself a second home when I was a teenager. Now a poor old wildlander though I might be, I have a mobile shanty as my second home. I can always choose a scenic spot of greenery to set it up and call it my temporary place.
An email to a friend – on "choosing not to be Chinese upon next reincarnation"
Old C.,
I simply do not know how to begin with the topic you re-opened, as I think actually we have been discussing the same in many aspects on and off for quite some time.
I haven't read that author's book. But I've just found something on his blog. I must say I quite agree to many of his opinions. But he might have gone too far. He is completely lost in his Western Shangri-La. He seems to have found some poisonous soil, yet he doesn't know how to neutralize it. What he has put forward is no reasonable solution.
Re-examining the Chinese culture should no longer be a "let's do it now" thing, of course we should keep on doing it, while reflecting deep inside ourselves; what we should do right away is change it, repair it, bit by bit, by changing and repairing our very selves in the first place. But this means personal sacrifice for those who are well educated, like the author himself, for education is the only means.
Only the well educated could help renew the education system. This will not succeed if they are not willing to sacrifice their own interest. Only their sacrifice would count, setting an example to all others including those of the greediest and corruptest classes, not that of Ah Q, not that of the peasants, and not that of the poorly educated.
But this just has to be a mankind dilemma, when there is a well developed Western world, which includes that tiny part called Norway where that author's wife is from, for them to turn to. Many highly educated simply can freely choose, painfully though it might look, not to be Chinese anymore, though partially and not racially, in this very present life. There is no need to wait till their next life.
One could be reborn a pig if the reincarnation thing is real. How risky! Who knows?
I think this author must have once been in love with China not as his motherland, but more or less as if it were his mother. He must be very proud of her. But one day he found this was no good mother, it was actually a mean, dirty, hypocritic and stupid woman, his love for her turned into anger, hatred, shame and disdain.
A country is not an individual, not a woman, not a guy. You encounter a certain ordinary good man somewhere sometime, later he might transform into a very bad thug and end up in prison, and later still he could renew himself to become an old nice fellow. All changes happen in one single lifetime.
A civilization, or just a country, as a whole cannot enjoy such dramatic changes, not to mention during a certain individual's lifetime.
If Barack Obama was born a couple of decades earlier and ran for the top office, there would be no way for him to succeed. Even he did he would be dead long before he could take the messed up oath.
So, born a Chinese and not a bad one, you can be angry, can feel shameful, can go hysterical, can swear your voice broken, can go to Norway, but it just doesn't help much. You just should be patient and calm, and do something positive and constructive with a sense of humour.
Even so pathetic a Chinese people has produced so good an individual as that author himself! How couldn't he see any hope?
If the U.S. were a non-Christian country, Barack Obama wouldn't have stood a chance. Yet you don't dream that you invited the crusaders to invade the ancient Empire of Ming back in history.
Jesus Christ saved the Western civilization. Christianity has evolved dramatically during a course of 2 thousand years. Yet not many Christians today know how to deal with their brothers created by the same God.
I would say, being Chinese, I seek to be as good, as creative, as reflective, as courageous, as righteous a person as I can during this present life, and leave the next life, if some day I would commence believing there is one, to the Hindu reincarnation mechanism.
And when it comes to the choice between Chinese and non-Chinese, or human and non-human, or swine and non-swine, I would like to consult Buddha if He lets me see Him without kneeling down and kowtowing.
I simply do not know how to begin with the topic you re-opened, as I think actually we have been discussing the same in many aspects on and off for quite some time.
I haven't read that author's book. But I've just found something on his blog. I must say I quite agree to many of his opinions. But he might have gone too far. He is completely lost in his Western Shangri-La. He seems to have found some poisonous soil, yet he doesn't know how to neutralize it. What he has put forward is no reasonable solution.
Re-examining the Chinese culture should no longer be a "let's do it now" thing, of course we should keep on doing it, while reflecting deep inside ourselves; what we should do right away is change it, repair it, bit by bit, by changing and repairing our very selves in the first place. But this means personal sacrifice for those who are well educated, like the author himself, for education is the only means.
Only the well educated could help renew the education system. This will not succeed if they are not willing to sacrifice their own interest. Only their sacrifice would count, setting an example to all others including those of the greediest and corruptest classes, not that of Ah Q, not that of the peasants, and not that of the poorly educated.
But this just has to be a mankind dilemma, when there is a well developed Western world, which includes that tiny part called Norway where that author's wife is from, for them to turn to. Many highly educated simply can freely choose, painfully though it might look, not to be Chinese anymore, though partially and not racially, in this very present life. There is no need to wait till their next life.
One could be reborn a pig if the reincarnation thing is real. How risky! Who knows?
I think this author must have once been in love with China not as his motherland, but more or less as if it were his mother. He must be very proud of her. But one day he found this was no good mother, it was actually a mean, dirty, hypocritic and stupid woman, his love for her turned into anger, hatred, shame and disdain.
A country is not an individual, not a woman, not a guy. You encounter a certain ordinary good man somewhere sometime, later he might transform into a very bad thug and end up in prison, and later still he could renew himself to become an old nice fellow. All changes happen in one single lifetime.
A civilization, or just a country, as a whole cannot enjoy such dramatic changes, not to mention during a certain individual's lifetime.
If Barack Obama was born a couple of decades earlier and ran for the top office, there would be no way for him to succeed. Even he did he would be dead long before he could take the messed up oath.
So, born a Chinese and not a bad one, you can be angry, can feel shameful, can go hysterical, can swear your voice broken, can go to Norway, but it just doesn't help much. You just should be patient and calm, and do something positive and constructive with a sense of humour.
Even so pathetic a Chinese people has produced so good an individual as that author himself! How couldn't he see any hope?
If the U.S. were a non-Christian country, Barack Obama wouldn't have stood a chance. Yet you don't dream that you invited the crusaders to invade the ancient Empire of Ming back in history.
Jesus Christ saved the Western civilization. Christianity has evolved dramatically during a course of 2 thousand years. Yet not many Christians today know how to deal with their brothers created by the same God.
I would say, being Chinese, I seek to be as good, as creative, as reflective, as courageous, as righteous a person as I can during this present life, and leave the next life, if some day I would commence believing there is one, to the Hindu reincarnation mechanism.
And when it comes to the choice between Chinese and non-Chinese, or human and non-human, or swine and non-swine, I would like to consult Buddha if He lets me see Him without kneeling down and kowtowing.
2009/01/17
一個可喜的週末
上週末是 2009 年的第二個週末，也是個特別可喜的週末。
這是個晴朗的週末，但卻略嫌晴得有些過了分了，赤裸裸的天空，竟無一絲雲彩！幸而終年常駐的「瘴氣」，那兩天竟然大大減退，於是夜裏皓月如鏡，白天穹蒼一片藍。這算是第一個可喜。
這是個適逢月圓的週末，而月亮在軌跡上走到了它的近地點，因而略微顯得比較大，也較為明亮。我不但在營地得賞晴空皓月，翌日又復披星戴月而歸。 這是第二個可喜。
這是個楓葉尚紅的週末。 營地上方那片楓林，經過多番寒風的侵凌，已然漸入禿境了。疏落的紅葉，多半殘缺不全。林地上卻鋪滿了枯葉，幾乎把泥土全給覆蓋了。可是偏偏還有幾棵壯株，依然枝葉婆娑，似乎不肯輕易向寒風屈服。 我鑽到楓林裏去流連，還能得賞可愛的紅葉；倚榦仰首凝望，但見滿樹的通紅，在藍天的映襯下，迎風搖曳。這是此地難得一見的深秋色彩、冬前景象，我托兩腿雙肩一腰板之福，大老遠跑了來，見證了，心中自然感到欣悅。 這是第三個可喜。
這是個稍冷的週末。 香港地處亞熱帶，又非高原，沒有氣候學上所定義的冬天。然而南下的寒流，還是偶爾會給這氣候溫和的海隅之地，帶來丁點冬天的氣息。上星期六晚上到星期天日出，我嘗到了只有6到7度的氣溫，可說略可感受幾分冬意了。 過冬，是人類文明發展的重要自然催化劑之一。 於今地球升溫已然證據確鑿，未來的冬天料將越來越暖和，我在香港的野地上，此刻仍能嗅到冬天的氣息，這算是第四個可喜。
這些個可喜，必得先有那麼一股傻勁，投進自然之母的懷抱裏，才得感受出來。
倘若讓我跟人們一樣，在西沙路岔口的「燒烤場」上，一邊吃著烤香腸，喝著蒸餾水，一邊迎著北風，呼吸兩旁車道上汽車排出的廢氣，那就大可不必再談什麼感受了。然而，要不像只顧烤雞腿的人們那樣心無旁鶩，而勻出幾秒鐘的工夫來，仰頭看看場中一棵大樹，那就一定會察覺，這原來竟是一棵楓香獨樹，這時滿樹的赭紅，略堪與烤灶裏滴上雞腿油的炭火一比燦爛。
這是個晴朗的週末，但卻略嫌晴得有些過了分了，赤裸裸的天空，竟無一絲雲彩！幸而終年常駐的「瘴氣」，那兩天竟然大大減退，於是夜裏皓月如鏡，白天穹蒼一片藍。這算是第一個可喜。
這是個適逢月圓的週末，而月亮在軌跡上走到了它的近地點，因而略微顯得比較大，也較為明亮。我不但在營地得賞晴空皓月，翌日又復披星戴月而歸。 這是第二個可喜。
這是個楓葉尚紅的週末。 營地上方那片楓林，經過多番寒風的侵凌，已然漸入禿境了。疏落的紅葉，多半殘缺不全。林地上卻鋪滿了枯葉，幾乎把泥土全給覆蓋了。可是偏偏還有幾棵壯株，依然枝葉婆娑，似乎不肯輕易向寒風屈服。 我鑽到楓林裏去流連，還能得賞可愛的紅葉；倚榦仰首凝望，但見滿樹的通紅，在藍天的映襯下，迎風搖曳。這是此地難得一見的深秋色彩、冬前景象，我托兩腿雙肩一腰板之福，大老遠跑了來，見證了，心中自然感到欣悅。 這是第三個可喜。
這是個稍冷的週末。 香港地處亞熱帶，又非高原，沒有氣候學上所定義的冬天。然而南下的寒流，還是偶爾會給這氣候溫和的海隅之地，帶來丁點冬天的氣息。上星期六晚上到星期天日出，我嘗到了只有6到7度的氣溫，可說略可感受幾分冬意了。 過冬，是人類文明發展的重要自然催化劑之一。 於今地球升溫已然證據確鑿，未來的冬天料將越來越暖和，我在香港的野地上，此刻仍能嗅到冬天的氣息，這算是第四個可喜。
這些個可喜，必得先有那麼一股傻勁，投進自然之母的懷抱裏，才得感受出來。
倘若讓我跟人們一樣，在西沙路岔口的「燒烤場」上，一邊吃著烤香腸，喝著蒸餾水，一邊迎著北風，呼吸兩旁車道上汽車排出的廢氣，那就大可不必再談什麼感受了。然而，要不像只顧烤雞腿的人們那樣心無旁鶩，而勻出幾秒鐘的工夫來，仰頭看看場中一棵大樹，那就一定會察覺，這原來竟是一棵楓香獨樹，這時滿樹的赭紅，略堪與烤灶裏滴上雞腿油的炭火一比燦爛。
The American Football As I Perceive It
A friend of mine told me that the football team of the university from which he graduated, many, many years ago though, was on "60 Minutes". He just didn't need to tell me that. I did remember the name of his university. And as long as my Chinese made hard disk recorder is in its working order, it's unlikely that I would miss the programme. "60 Minutes" is always worth watching, with Andy Rooney's cliché in particular.
Later I spent some time, compromising some sleep, to watch it, together with a part telling a terrifying story about a drunk driver prosecuted for murdering a little girl riding in a limousine by crashing it with his car and severing the poor little girl's head.
Despite I was taken with anger that I agreed the irresponsible young driver deserved capital punishment, I found the football part of the programme rather interesting. It profiled a head coach with a decent belly just like many other coaches. This smart coach was able to transform the college team and lift it from nowhere to the seventh of the country's top ten in the season. It is particularly amazing that this fat coach has never played college football himself.
Yet the American football could be the last of all kinds of games I would like to watch, just next to soccer which is normally less violent.
In my opinion American football players are by and large warrior-like, consisting of 50% muscles and bones and 50% pure testosterone. Many even take certain drugs to help building up muscles and increasing body power. Some are really brutal, physically as well as mentally. Every now and then, someone gets seriously hurt or killed in the field, right in front of his loved sexy cheerleader's tearful eyes.
Yeah, those fellows of the university team simply call themselves "Raiders", don't they?
Someone might be trampled flat if he gets in their way! They just have struggled really hard to climb up to the high rank.
In ancient times when men raided their enemies, they conquered by killing and enslaving, and they snatched all the young women and girls for bearing their own children! That's what a raid, or an invasion is all about.
An American football player is meant to mimic the primordial human reproduction behaviour in this modern time, obeying the animal instinct that has propagated the human species so fast and so successfully.
The most essencial ingredient of this sort of game is always brute force. Without a heavy body build and very strong muscles and bones, just talking about the skills is absolutely pointless.
On top of brute force, of course, the offensive line must have good tactics in order to win, and so must the defensive line in order not to lose, but both lines must be made up of big tough guys in the first place! There are 300-pound big guys among the players. The gorgeous skinny cheerleaders surely won't be enthusiastic to cheer up small fellows in the field.
No doubt this is a big boys' game. Those who are small or weak can only be spectators or fans. They get their adrenaline pumped to their dilated pupils and extremities watching their idols raid and crush their enemies. It is the hormones and empathy that make the fans of a football team feel intoxicated.
If one doesn't want to have any hero to worship, and not any enemy to conquer, he probably wouldn't be keen on this sort of game, not even just being a spectator.
Later I spent some time, compromising some sleep, to watch it, together with a part telling a terrifying story about a drunk driver prosecuted for murdering a little girl riding in a limousine by crashing it with his car and severing the poor little girl's head.
Despite I was taken with anger that I agreed the irresponsible young driver deserved capital punishment, I found the football part of the programme rather interesting. It profiled a head coach with a decent belly just like many other coaches. This smart coach was able to transform the college team and lift it from nowhere to the seventh of the country's top ten in the season. It is particularly amazing that this fat coach has never played college football himself.
Yet the American football could be the last of all kinds of games I would like to watch, just next to soccer which is normally less violent.
In my opinion American football players are by and large warrior-like, consisting of 50% muscles and bones and 50% pure testosterone. Many even take certain drugs to help building up muscles and increasing body power. Some are really brutal, physically as well as mentally. Every now and then, someone gets seriously hurt or killed in the field, right in front of his loved sexy cheerleader's tearful eyes.
Yeah, those fellows of the university team simply call themselves "Raiders", don't they?
Someone might be trampled flat if he gets in their way! They just have struggled really hard to climb up to the high rank.
In ancient times when men raided their enemies, they conquered by killing and enslaving, and they snatched all the young women and girls for bearing their own children! That's what a raid, or an invasion is all about.
An American football player is meant to mimic the primordial human reproduction behaviour in this modern time, obeying the animal instinct that has propagated the human species so fast and so successfully.
The most essencial ingredient of this sort of game is always brute force. Without a heavy body build and very strong muscles and bones, just talking about the skills is absolutely pointless.
On top of brute force, of course, the offensive line must have good tactics in order to win, and so must the defensive line in order not to lose, but both lines must be made up of big tough guys in the first place! There are 300-pound big guys among the players. The gorgeous skinny cheerleaders surely won't be enthusiastic to cheer up small fellows in the field.
No doubt this is a big boys' game. Those who are small or weak can only be spectators or fans. They get their adrenaline pumped to their dilated pupils and extremities watching their idols raid and crush their enemies. It is the hormones and empathy that make the fans of a football team feel intoxicated.
If one doesn't want to have any hero to worship, and not any enemy to conquer, he probably wouldn't be keen on this sort of game, not even just being a spectator.
2009/01/10
歲末歲首野營
去歲的耶穌聖誕，節期和週末粘連，造就營期共四天；本欲用以串走麥、衛二徑，野行四晝，帳宿三宵；啟行於北潭涌，於鉛礦坳岔口串入衛徑，結束於南涌。
可是因為朋友臨時要加入露營，原計劃體能強度要求太大，只得取消，改為定點野營，以適應朋友的時間安排和體格狀況。於是竊居東灣西峪半坡營地。
倘若串走麥、衛二徑，從北潭涌走到南涌，腳程大約100公里，恰與全走麥徑相若。 這麼個走法，雖然掐去了叫人甚為難堪的衛徑港島段，和麥徑的屯門段，卻還是無從繞過衛徑的大埔段，也就是說，必得穿越大埔舊墟的鬧市。這一小段可真彆扭死了！這是讓我樂於輕易改變計劃的主要原因。
此外，沿途並無像樣的野營地，而衛徑的後半截，乾脆可說完全無地紮營了！或說可在第9段離徑到流水響「指定營地」，可這營地設於郊遊徑上，對於新界的露營者，交通方便，在這種假日，必然熱鬧得跟蘭桂坊不遑多讓；晚上還可能來個普天同慶、徹夜歡騰；縱有蘭、桂綻開，難免吵得即時凋落。這種營地呀，我輩離群野人，萬萬住不得也！
罷了，計劃暫且擱置，來日方長，再看吧。
聖誕日傍晚我到了東灣半坡營地。但見濱海的熱門野營區場面冷清，一片枯黃的台坪上，帳篷寥寥無幾，比途中在赤徑所見，大為遜色。在熱鬧的赤徑海邊，一些少年露營者，乾脆把帳篷立在混凝土小徑一旁的路燈之下，大抵圖個來時快捷去時便，而帳裏又可徹夜通明吧。
還不只此呢，垃圾暫存點和公用廁所僅在咫尺之外！ 有的帳篷索性與大型垃圾桶作鄰，而不以為不美！看來一切盡得其便，以便為主，而便在不言中了。
翌日中午，按約定到大浪大圍去接來營的朋友，順便到村裏去和愛好滑浪的洋村民約翰和珂麗雅夫婦打個招呼。珂麗雅正在院子裏寫信。她馬上放下紙筆，非得給我們進屋倒茶。我們於是在小院子裏坐下聊天。他們的房子就在麥徑上，院前遊人如織，絡繹不絕，相當熱鬧。 聊著聊著，不覺就讓差不多兩個鐘頭溜走了；於是告辭，繼程奔赴東灣。
朋友安頓停當，已近黃昏。 晚餐前到海灘去溜達，竟又遇到了愛好露營的佳佳和安安。夫妻倆選用了低坡上的草坪，以撿來的泡沫塑料箱為灶台，拿透明塑料水瓶做蠟燭燈。 他們的帳篷小得像個大飛蛾的繭，我看非得專立名目，叫個「夫妻帳」不可！ 他們的帳篷雖小，卻擁有再大沒有的山海景觀；在這裏看海灣、谷地和山岡的全貌，那肯定是最佳的位置；角度可說全方位，美景一覽無遺！
第二天，朋友埋怨自己的帳裏悶熱。 嘔，這可是十二月的天氣呀！可不，那個帳篷是個簡單的饅頭形設計，外帳並不覆裹整個內帳，前、後帳篷口上面，只有靠的一根短桿架起來的淺簷，意思意思罷了，實際的作用不大。 這設計肯定不能禁受風雨。而且出入口的門簾一旦放下繫好，就完全覆蓋紗幔，大礙通風；要把門簾捲起來透氣的話，卻又好比玻璃窗戶缺了一掛窗簾。為了行囊輕便，當然也不配備天篷了。倘在夏天而烈日當頭，那就只好找棵大樹，整天在下面呆著了。 不過，對於我這朋友，這都不成問題，反正一年到頭，頂多就在涼天出來這麼一次罷了。
下午要離營去遠足。朋友決定不遊長嘴和短嘴，而選擇攀登蚺蛇尖。我們於是由營地後面的山坡出發往上爬。這雖是我常走的蹊徑，卻肯定並非正途，其中很有幾段驚險的陡坡。朋友得此機會，約略禁受兩三分的驚心動魄，該可以說不枉此行了。
傍晚經由大浪大圍回東灣，約翰正在村前的頹房旁邊搭竹棚。他要親自在那堵殘留的牆上繪一幅壁畫，吸引滑浪者，準備開展他的滑浪板生意呢。約翰來自澳大利亞，長於滑浪，似是理所當然；但他竟然也會搭竹棚，這倒有些出人意表！
朋友要在村裏買瓶喝的。 我利用這段時間，和約翰又聊上了。 我又爬到了這個洋人搭的港式竹棚上，擺了一副猴子架勢，照了個相，聊作紀錄。
回到東灣台坪，天色已經入黑。 我們得走山徑回營。出乎我意料之外，朋友竟說背包裏沒有附帶手電！我輕裝出行，手上只有照相機和三腳架，別的一概闕如。既沒有水瓶，也沒帶手電，當然也無須背個小背包。 這是因為短途爬山我不必喝水；另外自恃略有夜視能力，就算萬一要在入黑之後回營，也絕對能夠安然摸返熟悉的營地。
結果我還是能夠領著朋友，僥倖地安全返抵營地。 這時朋友打開背包，竟然告訴我：包子裏面，原來是有手電的！沒事！朋友既沒出事摔跤，我也就無須生氣，這就算個野外摸黑夜行訓練得了。
星期天上午，我把朋友送到大浪大圍的混凝土麥徑上，讓他自行回城，然後我又得去爬坡鑽林，賞看那可喜的楓葉。
這一天沒有藍天了，自然也沒有太陽，就那麼如常一片灰濛濛。 叫人憋悶的一團暗晦，似乎鑽到心眼裏來了。然而那楓香的紅葉，卻依然讓我欣喜。
紅，不過就是一種色光、一段波長，哪裏都能見著；偶爾一個不留神，把個手指頭扎破，它就要冒出來了，叫人看著害怕。然而這楓葉的紅啊，它就是不一樣：它偏偏要由翠綠轉變而來，呈現在自然之母繪就的葉片上；這葉片它形狀獨特、構圖巧美；就那樣，它顯得分外可愛、特別誘人。
然而，這畢竟只能是短暫的紅，它不會持久。幾夜寒風把綠吹紅了，再添幾夜寒風，那紅便被吹褐，隨即掉落，鋪滿林地。堪憐的禿枝，只得在未來的寒夜裏，迎風哆嗦，靜待春歸。
在這晦天裏賞罷楓林紅葉，再到海灘看了一會洶湧澎湃的浪，也就回營了。這時的東灣濱海台坪營區，已然蕩然了無一帳。 可我，並不忙於回家，要做的事情還多著呢，包括了聽音樂。不知怎的，我又聽了海頓的「倫敦」。 我偏要愣想：那倫敦嘛，敦則敦矣，哪有這麼可愛無倫的野地！
入黑之後，我夜行下山，疾走到公路，坐車回城。
不過三天之後，也就到了除夕。我晚上無須去趕熱鬧看煙火，自然又到荒郊度歲了，我要去大浪嘴迎接元旦的朝日。
大浪嘴東北方的海上有個小島，也就是東平洲，此島位處香港全區最東的海域上，該是每天最早看到太陽的地方。可它東面4公里外卻是陸地，也就是內地的南澳半島，日出因而不自海平線。這就讓大浪嘴成為全區晨曦最先照臨的陸地了。
除夕的夜空是持續了多天的密雲，要是元旦清晨還是那樣，日出將無緣觀賞。然而咱這號稱天文台的氣象台，卻預報元旦日天氣轉晴，倘若這是準確的，大浪嘴就會迎來海平線上的日出了。
好容易堵車堵到了西貢，排了半天隊，上車時有人在候車欄裏跟我打招呼，原來竟是珂麗雅。約翰當然也在一起。由於汽車滿員，我們坐不到一塊，要到下車之後才能談上話。 從北潭坳聊到了大浪大圍村，耗時65分鐘。 約翰要請我家去喝杯茶，我說不了，一坐下來沒準聊個半夜，非得天亮才到營地。夫妻倆說明天也要到大浪嘴去看日出，到時來找我。
辭過約翰和珂麗雅，花了1小時30分，我走到了長嘴白泥頭的半坡小原上。這是11點05分。 這時小草原上無定向的勁風刮得相當厲害，幾次把我的帳篷吹到遠處，還讓我丟失了一根營釘。 好容易把帳篷搭好，趕忙下坡去澗源洗澡、打水。 水源附近有零星旱地，我用小塑料桶打水淋浴，避免污染流入叢林泥沼的小澗。回來躲進帳裏的「小廳」，拉上門簾，才能開灶做飯。 那風是真個來勁了！ 過了兩點，我才吃上飯。
由於那風實在刮得厲害，帳篷不住發出聲響，我一夜無法睡好。 輾轉反側，就到了破曉時分。睡前氣溫10度，早上卻降到8度了。 起來拉開帳簾，竟是晴空一片，夜來的雲障，已然消失殆盡。
7點04分，太陽準時從海平線上升起來了，確實好看。我身在小原上，既有微型地平線，又有海平線，這是再美沒有的圖景了。
7 點半，兩個人從岸邊的人群中走出，朝我這小原的方向過來。這肯定並非別人，必是約翰和珂麗雅。 他們走到小澗對岸，大概把我確認，就向我打招呼。 他們都穿著顏色鮮豔的攀山服。 珂麗雅帶來熱水瓶，裝著蜂蜜薑湯，大概學會了中國人的驅寒絕竅。然而這裏寒風正盛，薑湯甫倒進小瓷杯，就被吹涼了。我主觀感覺，驅寒的效用不大。
他們請我喝薑湯，我自然不應待慢客人，但帳中物資匱乏，唯有以速溶咖啡款客，酌加冰糖，和產自黑龍江、可能含有豐富三聚氰胺的全脂奶粉。
儘管如此待客，珂麗雅竟還要送我一個日曆。我說我的日曆夠多的，珂麗雅卻說倘我不需要，可以拿去送給別人；我於是答應晚上回程路過他們的村房，要是他們還沒走，我就去取。晚上7點半，我到了他們那裏，坐下和約翰一聊，喝杯茶，不覺就過了一個鐘頭。
我一看錶，嚇了一跳，已經8點25分，剩下只有一個小時，我得走到北潭坳，否則就要錯過末班車。這一程，大概是我有史以來，背著二十多公斤的背包，而跑得最快的了。
珂麗雅給我的，原來是個香港天文台出版的日曆，除了十二幅香港野生動植物的精美圖片，還有每天日月出沒的時間，和潮汐的漲退，對我這個野人而言，該很有用。
兩天之後的週末，我又到了楓林營地，觀賞我那賞之不疲的紅葉。這一次，竟讓我找到了五裂的葉片。
可是因為朋友臨時要加入露營，原計劃體能強度要求太大，只得取消，改為定點野營，以適應朋友的時間安排和體格狀況。於是竊居東灣西峪半坡營地。
倘若串走麥、衛二徑，從北潭涌走到南涌，腳程大約100公里，恰與全走麥徑相若。 這麼個走法，雖然掐去了叫人甚為難堪的衛徑港島段，和麥徑的屯門段，卻還是無從繞過衛徑的大埔段，也就是說，必得穿越大埔舊墟的鬧市。這一小段可真彆扭死了！這是讓我樂於輕易改變計劃的主要原因。
此外，沿途並無像樣的野營地，而衛徑的後半截，乾脆可說完全無地紮營了！或說可在第9段離徑到流水響「指定營地」，可這營地設於郊遊徑上，對於新界的露營者，交通方便，在這種假日，必然熱鬧得跟蘭桂坊不遑多讓；晚上還可能來個普天同慶、徹夜歡騰；縱有蘭、桂綻開，難免吵得即時凋落。這種營地呀，我輩離群野人，萬萬住不得也！
罷了，計劃暫且擱置，來日方長，再看吧。
聖誕日傍晚我到了東灣半坡營地。但見濱海的熱門野營區場面冷清，一片枯黃的台坪上，帳篷寥寥無幾，比途中在赤徑所見，大為遜色。在熱鬧的赤徑海邊，一些少年露營者，乾脆把帳篷立在混凝土小徑一旁的路燈之下，大抵圖個來時快捷去時便，而帳裏又可徹夜通明吧。
還不只此呢，垃圾暫存點和公用廁所僅在咫尺之外！ 有的帳篷索性與大型垃圾桶作鄰，而不以為不美！看來一切盡得其便，以便為主，而便在不言中了。
翌日中午，按約定到大浪大圍去接來營的朋友，順便到村裏去和愛好滑浪的洋村民約翰和珂麗雅夫婦打個招呼。珂麗雅正在院子裏寫信。她馬上放下紙筆，非得給我們進屋倒茶。我們於是在小院子裏坐下聊天。他們的房子就在麥徑上，院前遊人如織，絡繹不絕，相當熱鬧。 聊著聊著，不覺就讓差不多兩個鐘頭溜走了；於是告辭，繼程奔赴東灣。
朋友安頓停當，已近黃昏。 晚餐前到海灘去溜達，竟又遇到了愛好露營的佳佳和安安。夫妻倆選用了低坡上的草坪，以撿來的泡沫塑料箱為灶台，拿透明塑料水瓶做蠟燭燈。 他們的帳篷小得像個大飛蛾的繭，我看非得專立名目，叫個「夫妻帳」不可！ 他們的帳篷雖小，卻擁有再大沒有的山海景觀；在這裏看海灣、谷地和山岡的全貌，那肯定是最佳的位置；角度可說全方位，美景一覽無遺！
第二天，朋友埋怨自己的帳裏悶熱。 嘔，這可是十二月的天氣呀！可不，那個帳篷是個簡單的饅頭形設計，外帳並不覆裹整個內帳，前、後帳篷口上面，只有靠的一根短桿架起來的淺簷，意思意思罷了，實際的作用不大。 這設計肯定不能禁受風雨。而且出入口的門簾一旦放下繫好，就完全覆蓋紗幔，大礙通風；要把門簾捲起來透氣的話，卻又好比玻璃窗戶缺了一掛窗簾。為了行囊輕便，當然也不配備天篷了。倘在夏天而烈日當頭，那就只好找棵大樹，整天在下面呆著了。 不過，對於我這朋友，這都不成問題，反正一年到頭，頂多就在涼天出來這麼一次罷了。
下午要離營去遠足。朋友決定不遊長嘴和短嘴，而選擇攀登蚺蛇尖。我們於是由營地後面的山坡出發往上爬。這雖是我常走的蹊徑，卻肯定並非正途，其中很有幾段驚險的陡坡。朋友得此機會，約略禁受兩三分的驚心動魄，該可以說不枉此行了。
傍晚經由大浪大圍回東灣，約翰正在村前的頹房旁邊搭竹棚。他要親自在那堵殘留的牆上繪一幅壁畫，吸引滑浪者，準備開展他的滑浪板生意呢。約翰來自澳大利亞，長於滑浪，似是理所當然；但他竟然也會搭竹棚，這倒有些出人意表！
朋友要在村裏買瓶喝的。 我利用這段時間，和約翰又聊上了。 我又爬到了這個洋人搭的港式竹棚上，擺了一副猴子架勢，照了個相，聊作紀錄。
回到東灣台坪，天色已經入黑。 我們得走山徑回營。出乎我意料之外，朋友竟說背包裏沒有附帶手電！我輕裝出行，手上只有照相機和三腳架，別的一概闕如。既沒有水瓶，也沒帶手電，當然也無須背個小背包。 這是因為短途爬山我不必喝水；另外自恃略有夜視能力，就算萬一要在入黑之後回營，也絕對能夠安然摸返熟悉的營地。
結果我還是能夠領著朋友，僥倖地安全返抵營地。 這時朋友打開背包，竟然告訴我：包子裏面，原來是有手電的！沒事！朋友既沒出事摔跤，我也就無須生氣，這就算個野外摸黑夜行訓練得了。
星期天上午，我把朋友送到大浪大圍的混凝土麥徑上，讓他自行回城，然後我又得去爬坡鑽林，賞看那可喜的楓葉。
這一天沒有藍天了，自然也沒有太陽，就那麼如常一片灰濛濛。 叫人憋悶的一團暗晦，似乎鑽到心眼裏來了。然而那楓香的紅葉，卻依然讓我欣喜。
紅，不過就是一種色光、一段波長，哪裏都能見著；偶爾一個不留神，把個手指頭扎破，它就要冒出來了，叫人看著害怕。然而這楓葉的紅啊，它就是不一樣：它偏偏要由翠綠轉變而來，呈現在自然之母繪就的葉片上；這葉片它形狀獨特、構圖巧美；就那樣，它顯得分外可愛、特別誘人。
然而，這畢竟只能是短暫的紅，它不會持久。幾夜寒風把綠吹紅了，再添幾夜寒風，那紅便被吹褐，隨即掉落，鋪滿林地。堪憐的禿枝，只得在未來的寒夜裏，迎風哆嗦，靜待春歸。
在這晦天裏賞罷楓林紅葉，再到海灘看了一會洶湧澎湃的浪，也就回營了。這時的東灣濱海台坪營區，已然蕩然了無一帳。 可我，並不忙於回家，要做的事情還多著呢，包括了聽音樂。不知怎的，我又聽了海頓的「倫敦」。 我偏要愣想：那倫敦嘛，敦則敦矣，哪有這麼可愛無倫的野地！
入黑之後，我夜行下山，疾走到公路，坐車回城。
不過三天之後，也就到了除夕。我晚上無須去趕熱鬧看煙火，自然又到荒郊度歲了，我要去大浪嘴迎接元旦的朝日。
大浪嘴東北方的海上有個小島，也就是東平洲，此島位處香港全區最東的海域上，該是每天最早看到太陽的地方。可它東面4公里外卻是陸地，也就是內地的南澳半島，日出因而不自海平線。這就讓大浪嘴成為全區晨曦最先照臨的陸地了。
除夕的夜空是持續了多天的密雲，要是元旦清晨還是那樣，日出將無緣觀賞。然而咱這號稱天文台的氣象台，卻預報元旦日天氣轉晴，倘若這是準確的，大浪嘴就會迎來海平線上的日出了。
好容易堵車堵到了西貢，排了半天隊，上車時有人在候車欄裏跟我打招呼，原來竟是珂麗雅。約翰當然也在一起。由於汽車滿員，我們坐不到一塊，要到下車之後才能談上話。 從北潭坳聊到了大浪大圍村，耗時65分鐘。 約翰要請我家去喝杯茶，我說不了，一坐下來沒準聊個半夜，非得天亮才到營地。夫妻倆說明天也要到大浪嘴去看日出，到時來找我。
辭過約翰和珂麗雅，花了1小時30分，我走到了長嘴白泥頭的半坡小原上。這是11點05分。 這時小草原上無定向的勁風刮得相當厲害，幾次把我的帳篷吹到遠處，還讓我丟失了一根營釘。 好容易把帳篷搭好，趕忙下坡去澗源洗澡、打水。 水源附近有零星旱地，我用小塑料桶打水淋浴，避免污染流入叢林泥沼的小澗。回來躲進帳裏的「小廳」，拉上門簾，才能開灶做飯。 那風是真個來勁了！ 過了兩點，我才吃上飯。
由於那風實在刮得厲害，帳篷不住發出聲響，我一夜無法睡好。 輾轉反側，就到了破曉時分。睡前氣溫10度，早上卻降到8度了。 起來拉開帳簾，竟是晴空一片，夜來的雲障，已然消失殆盡。
7點04分，太陽準時從海平線上升起來了，確實好看。我身在小原上，既有微型地平線，又有海平線，這是再美沒有的圖景了。
他們請我喝薑湯，我自然不應待慢客人，但帳中物資匱乏，唯有以速溶咖啡款客，酌加冰糖，和產自黑龍江、可能含有豐富三聚氰胺的全脂奶粉。
儘管如此待客，珂麗雅竟還要送我一個日曆。我說我的日曆夠多的，珂麗雅卻說倘我不需要，可以拿去送給別人；我於是答應晚上回程路過他們的村房，要是他們還沒走，我就去取。晚上7點半，我到了他們那裏，坐下和約翰一聊，喝杯茶，不覺就過了一個鐘頭。
我一看錶，嚇了一跳，已經8點25分，剩下只有一個小時，我得走到北潭坳，否則就要錯過末班車。這一程，大概是我有史以來，背著二十多公斤的背包，而跑得最快的了。
珂麗雅給我的，原來是個香港天文台出版的日曆，除了十二幅香港野生動植物的精美圖片，還有每天日月出沒的時間，和潮汐的漲退，對我這個野人而言，該很有用。
兩天之後的週末，我又到了楓林營地，觀賞我那賞之不疲的紅葉。這一次，竟讓我找到了五裂的葉片。
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