家乡那条小河，从村尾穿过，我们一村的人都住在河的北岸，河的南岸是另一个村庄。连接南北两岸的是一座简易的石桥，不是很宽，也没有护栏。水位平时不高，所以觉得桥面距离水面很高，偶尔雨季水位会上涨漫过桥面。小姑家住在河的南岸，奶奶去小姑家总喜欢带上我，每次我都紧拉着奶奶的手，眼睛死死盯着桥面，快速走过石桥，不敢伸头看桥下。即使这样，夜里还会时不时梦见自己行走在漫水桥面，惊恐无助，被梦吓醒。
几年前弟弟回老家，拍回一张照片，小河已经干枯快断流了，人都可以下到河底，小河快成为小沟了，我突然觉得小时的恐惧有点好笑。
今年夏天雨水太大，舅舅电话说小河的水又满上了，问起记忆中的那座桥，舅舅说已经原地新建了一座中桥，建成后再没有河水漫过桥面。
最近几年很少回老家，即使回去也是匆匆忙忙，没有时间去到村尾，因而从来也没有见过新桥的模样，留在记忆深处的还是那座简易的石桥和奶奶牵我的手。
离开家乡，我梦中再也未见漫水的桥面，只有偶尔想起它时淡淡的乡愁和对奶奶浓浓的思念。
The river in my hometown runs through the end of the village. The people in one village live on the north bank of the river, and the south bank of the river is another village. Connecting the north and south sides is a simple stone bridge, which is not very wide and does not have a guardrail. The water level is not usually high, so I feel that the bridge surface is very close to the water surface. Occasionally, the water level will rise in the rainy season and overflow across the bridge deck. My youngest aunt lives on the south bank of the river. Grandma always likes to take me when she goes to her house. Every time I cross the bridge, I hold my grandmother's hand tightly, stare at the bridge, quickly cross the stone bridge, and dare not reach out to look under the bridge. Even so, from time to time, I will dream of walking on the flooded bridge at night, panicked and helpless, and woken up by dreams.
A few years ago, my brother went back to my hometown and took a picture. The river was dry and almost cut off. Anyone could go down to the bottom of the river. The river was about to become a ditch. Suddenly, I felt that the fear of childhood was a little funny.
It rained too much this summer. My uncle called and said that the river was full again. When asked about the bridge in memory, my uncle said that a new middle bridge had been built in place, and no river flooded the bridge after completion.
In recent years, I seldom go back to my hometown. Even if I go back, I am in a hurry. I don't have time to go to the end of the village, so I have never seen the appearance of a new bridge. What remains deep in my memory is the simple stone bridge and my grandmother’s hand of holding me.
Leaving my hometown, I never saw the flooded bridge in my dream again. I only occasionally think of its faint nostalgia and deep nostalgia for my grandmother.
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