It’s the end of March when the city was a little warmer. The bus started in the early morning mist. The midnight blue sky and cold street couldn’t wake the travelers up. The orange lamps and raindrops left their clear and tidy trails on the blurry windows. As the buildings quickly faded into the fog, large trees appeared on the roadside, and millions of flowers rose behind the car wheels on the highway. And then, the faraway mountains took up the whole windows. The Fraser River was flowing quietly beside the bus, and the white snow could be seen on the pine leaves.