车一拐进村道,窗外的绿便像打翻了的颜料罐,浓得泼洒开来。水田是湿润的绿,山峦是深沉的绿,树是跳跃的绿,草是茸茸的绿,它们挤挤挨挨地扑向车窗,仿佛要把这小小的铁壳子也染绿了。没等车停稳,村口那棵老态龙钟(试读)...