"....and the weekend promises sunshine and southerly breezes. Make the most of it!"

“……周末预计会阳光明媚，并刮起徐徐的南风。尽情享受吧。”

the weatherman's cheery voice came from the TV, precariously perched on a pile of books, the only way she'd yet found for its cable to reach the socket. Piles of books, papers, magazines had always been a feature of Maggie's lived-in kitchen and they had grown in the dark days since January. But recent weeks had found her more able to cope with her situation and a measure of organization had returned to her life.

气象员愉悦的播报声从电视机中传来，只见这台电视放在一堆书上，摇摇欲坠，这样放是因为唯有如此她才能将电视插销接到插座上。玛吉的厨房就没有闲置过，它有一个特色，那就是永远堆满了成叠的书、报纸和杂志，而从一月开始，这些东西在那些暗无天光的日子里越积越多。可最近几个礼拜，她可以更好地适应自己的处境了，生活又恢复了一些条理。

But, like the TV, it was a delicate balance. To the outside world, she seemed cool and collected; inside she felt deeply vulnerable. Strategies had been adopted for coping, new routines found, places that would stir painful memories strictly avoided.

不过，就像放电视机一样，这是一种微妙的平衡。在别人看来，她似乎是淡漠而又镇静的；可内心当中，她却感到极其脆弱。她想方设法来适应，培养了一些新习惯，对那些引发伤感回忆的地方是坚决避而不去的。

However, this was a small town and some places could not be ignored. Like the moor which looked down on her every time she opened her front door. Over the years, she and Mike had spent many hours walking on it, marking the changing seasons, content in each other's company.

可是，这是一个小镇，有些地方是回避不了的。就好比她每次打开前门都会看到高耸的高沼地。很多年来，她和迈克一年四季都会在高沼地上花上很多时间来散步，两个人相互陪伴很是惬意。

Late summer had always been a busy time as they followed in the footsteps of countless couples before them and gathered in the harvest for jam.

昔日的晚夏时节总是一个忙碌的季节，他们会跟随着无数夫妇的脚步，在丰收来临之时前去采摘，为制作果酱做准备。

the forecast helped Maggie to make up her mind. Despite misgivings, the attraction of the moor in the late summer sun was too strong. It had to be faced one day on her own; it was too beautiful to stay away forever. The time had come to lay this ghost to rest and picking a few berries would keep her mind occupied. Decision made, Maggie turned off the TV and went to help with homework.

天气预报帮玛吉下定了决心。尽管有顾虑，但在晚夏阳光的照耀下，高沼地的诱惑太大了。早晚有一天她需要独自面对；那儿太美了，不可能永远将其置于身外。是时候来做个了断了，而且采摘浆果可以使她忘却一切。下定了决心的玛吉关上电视，辅导孩子做功课去了。

Saturday dawned bright and clear. Resisting the desire to turn back, Maggie drove along the familiar lanes that lead to the parking bay at the foot of the hill. The walk to the top seemed longer, steeper. She was out of breath, her legs ached and her heart pounded.

星期六的黎明，天空晴朗而又明亮。抑制住返回去的冲动，玛吉开着车，沿着熟悉的小路一直行驶到山脚的停车场。通向山顶的路似乎变得更长、更陡。她上气不接下气，腿部作痛，心砰砰直跳。

But at last the path emerged from the trees and stretched away in the sun. On either side, the brambles clambered over heather and gorse, laden with clusters of fruit, ripe for picking; a riot of black and GREen, purple and yellow.

但是，路终于从树林中显露出来，笔直向前，直至消失在阳光中。路的两边，树莓攀附在石南花和金雀花之上，挂满了串串果实，果子已经熟透，就待采摘了；黑色和绿色，紫色和黄色，编织成一片缤纷色彩。

She need not have worried. the moor seemed to welcome her back like a long-lost friend and her spirits rose. Taking a deep breath of the clear air, Maggie deftly took a bag from her pocket and started to pick, stopping every now and then to straighten her back and enjoy the familiar view. With stained fingers and scratched hands to show for her efforts, the bag slowly filled with the dark, plump fruit.

她本不需要担心的。高沼地似乎就像对待一位久未谋面的老朋友一样欢迎她的归来，而她的情绪也高涨起来。玛吉先是在清新的空气中深深地吸了一口气，然后熟练地从口袋里掏出一个袋子，开始采摘，她时不时地会停一下，挺挺腰，欣赏一番这熟悉的景致。她的努力有了结果——手指变得污迹斑斑、双手出现了划痕，而袋子也渐渐放满了这种色黑肉厚的果子。

Horse riders and walkers exchanged GREetings as they passed. After a while, a solitary figure appeared on the path behind her, pausing and stooping occasionally, yet catching up quickly.

骑马者和路人在相遇后互致着问候。过了一会儿，一个孤单的身影出现在她身后的小道上，时而驻足，时而弯腰，可是又总能快速地跟上来。