3.Waiting for the Breeze
3.祈盼清風
Lying in bed, by an open window, and listen."No air-conditioning, how can you sleep?" my fiend asks, horrified. I've just revealed that my family had decided to shut the air-conditioner off and trim our electric bill.
窗邊靜躺,細心聆聽“不開空調?能睡得著嗎?”聽說家人要為了節省電費而把家里的空調關掉時,我的朋友一臉驚愕。
“Nobody opens a window,day or night,”warns another friend, whose windows have been painted shut for a decade.“This is the 1990s.It's not safe.”
“不管是白天還是晚上都沒有人開窗戶”另一個朋友警告到,他的窗戶都已經關了十年了?!艾F在是20世紀90年代。這可不安全”
On its first night of our cost-cutting adventure, it's only eighty-five degrees. We're not going to suffer, but the three kids grumble anyway. They've grown up in 72-degree comfort,insulated from the world outside.
在大膽嘗試節電的第一天晚上,氣溫不過華氏85°而已,我們并不覺得難受,但三個孩子卻怨聲連天。他們一直在華氏72°的舒適溫度下成長,與世隔絕。
“How do you open these windows?” my husband asks.Jiggling the metal tabs, he finally releases one. A potpourri of bug bodies decorates the sill. As we spring the windows one by one, the night noises howl outside and in.
“你怎么不開窗戶啊?”我的丈夫問道。他搖動了金屬桿,并打開了一扇窗。一片小蟲群尸體遍布整個窗臺。當我們把窗戶一扇扇打開時,外面夜晚的喧囂聲進到了室內。
"It's too hot to sleep." my thirteen-year-old daught moans. "I'm about to die from this heat!" her brother hollers down the hall. "Just try it tonight." I tell them. In truth, I'm too tired to argue for long. My face is sweaty, but I lie quietly, listening to the criket choirs outside. That remind me of childhood. The neighbor's dog howls.Probably a trespassing squirrel.It's been years since I've taken the time to really listen to the night.
“太熱了!怎么睡??!”我十三歲的女兒不停嘀咕著?!盁崴牢依?!”他弟弟的牢騷聲也從客廳的另一頭傳來。我只好說:“今晚就試著忍一忍,好嗎?”其實我根本沒有余力多做解釋。臉上也出汗了。我靜靜地躺著,聆聽著窗外蟋蟀的合奏曲,思緒被牽回到了童年時光。鄰居家的狗叫著。也許是因為一直擅自闖入的小松鼠。我好多年都沒有靜下心來聽一聽夜晚的聲音了。
I think about my grandma, who lived to ninety-two and still supervised my mom's garden until just few weeks before she died. And then I'm back there in her house in the summer heat of my child hood. I moved my pillow to the foot of grandma's bed and angled my face toward the open window. I flipped the pillow, hunting for the cooller side.
這是我禁不住想起了外婆,她活到了92歲,直到去世前的幾個禮拜,她一直都幫助媽媽照料著花園?;氐酵暄谉岬南奶欤氐搅送馄诺男∥荩野颜眍^移到外婆的床位,臉朝著窗。之后我又把枕頭翻了過來,讓比較涼爽的一頭朝上。
Grandma sees me thrashing, "if you just watch for the breeze," she says, "you'll cool off and fall asleep." She cranks up the Vanetian Blinds. I stare at the filmy white curtain, willing it to flutter. Lying still and waiting, I suddenly notice that life outside the window, the bug chorus. Neighbours, porch-sitting late, speaking in hazy words with sanded edges that soothe me.
看到我翻來翻去地睡不著,外婆說:“只要用心去感受和祈盼,風會來的,這樣你就可以一身清涼地入夢鄉了?!彼寻偃~窗拉了起來,于是我就一直注視著朦朧的白窗簾,等待它的飄動。靜靜地躺著,祈盼著,這時我忽然找到,窗外世界的生命。小蟲的清唱;門廊外閑聊著的鄰居,他們模糊不清的喋喋細語開始催我入眠
"Mom, did you hear that?" my seven-year-old blurts, "I think it was an owl family."
“媽媽,您聽到了嗎?”我7歲的孩子囔道,“我覺得那是一頭貓頭鷹一家子在叫。”
"Probably." I tell him, "Just keep listening!"
“很有可能!”我跟他說,“再仔細聽!”
Without the droning air-conditioner, the house is oddly peaceful, and the unfiltered noise seems close enough to touch. I hope I'm awake tonight that the first breeze sneaks in.
沒有了空調機的嗡嗡聲,房間飄逸著一種奇異的祥和氣氛,還有未經過濾的、親近的伸手就可觸及的夜聲。真的希望,當第一縷清風悄然而至的時候,我依然能夠迎接她的到來。