之后,我的堂兄弟姐妹们会在周末过来树屋里玩,我们之间会大战一番。有时,我独自一人在高处做着白日梦,把一个又一个下午都耗在了在树屋里,我的暑假就这么过了。在酷热的夏日里,树叶间透出的微风总让人感觉清爽。我会坐着,把脚悬在树屋边上,注视着那些在下面移动的东西。小鸡会漫步而过,在土里乱抓乱啄一通,乐悠悠地,也不知道高处暗藏着一双眼睛如老鹰般盯着它们。也有兔子跳过,全然不知就在附近有把BB枪瞄准了它们。
As time passed, everything continued to change in some manner. Just like my bones were growing, so were the limbs on the tree. As clothes were outgrown, support 27)braces in the tree were pulled apart by nature’s very own leafy 28)contortionist. A few times my brother and I carried out quick repairs to keep the treehouse from being condemned as uninhabitable. But as with many things in youth, our interest waned. Eventually, I grew up and moved out on my own. On occasion, I would return to visit the farm and climb up into treehouse to look around. Each time, the treehouse fell further and further into a state of disrepair. Finally, it reached the point where the only remaining sign of its presence was the rusty log chain. But I’m willing to bet the log chain is still there today. Maybe someday I’ll take a trip back to the farm before my hair totally falls out and see if the chain still stands—a 29)testament to what was once one of the “Seven Wonders of the World.”
时光飞逝,一切都以某种方式不断改变。就像我的骨骼在长一样,那棵老榆树的枝也在长。衣服穿不下了,钉在树上用来支撑树屋的支架也因大自然那一枝繁叶茂的“柔术表演者”——生长着的树枝——而被拉开。我和哥哥迅速修补了好几回,以免树屋进一步破败至不堪留驻。然而,小孩子对很多事情总是三分钟热度,我们对树屋的兴趣同样也渐渐消退。终于,我长大了,独自搬到了外面去住。我还不时回到那个农场,爬上那树屋四处瞅瞅。而每一次树屋都越发显得破落失修。最后,仅存的印证就只剩下那根已荒废的木链了。我还是愿意相信那条木链现在仍在那里的。也许某天,在我的头发完全掉光以前,我会再回到那个农场,去看看印证那昔日“世界七大奇迹”之一的树屋的那条木链是否仍在那里。
