Memory Feather
Memories float like feathers in the sky ~>>>Archive for Summer
Granville Island.Blue Shine
In early 2004.
An afternoon in the late January,
After seeing the shining sun on the Granville Bridge,
On the way back,
Noticed some dew on the stone border,
Mixed with micro moss and black soil,
Glowing softly,
Ever since.
June second,
With a night anxiety,
And three maps in hands,
Crossed the stone border for the first time,
Where a man told me to follow the bridge path,
And a warmhearted lady spent ten minutes guiding me to the water park,
While the blue mist slowly disappeared.
That afternoon,
We walked a few miles to the west seashore,
A friend took a photo of me,
With the sky, the sea, the sand,
And a little smile.
Waiting in the rain
It was the end of July in 2007. Chengdu was full of hot and moist air. The midday clouds were pale without boundary. The thick mist devoured most part of the city. The grey raindrops slid from traveller’s inky hairs and melted with muddy asphalt.
In the gloomy lounge, passengers were jostling as fish in the net. Many white buses were shuttling between planes and gates. In the bus, every hand was holding tightly on the handrails. The downpour crashed on the bus windows and erased the roar of jet engines.
About five meters, from the stairs to the door of the plane, all the clothes were washed in a second. The air hostess’s voice mixed with child’s shout echoing in the plane. In the meantime, planes were fading in and out soundlessly in the mist. A sudden shake waked tired travellers up after two hours. The plane was moving slowly towards the runway.
