Simple and quiet moments

　　In the afternoon, a light rain fell. I walked back from the riverbank, my heart growing calmer, as if I had seen everything in the world and traveled the farthest roads.

　　The pomegranate tree before the steps was in bloom. I was in Beijing; now, I've returned, and its fruit has ripened, some as big as a fist. I counted—over thirty on one tree. I like cherries, grapes, and strawberries, but not pomegranates. It's said that planting pomegranates brings good fortune, so I've gradually come to like them.

　　"I contend with no one, and I disdain all contention. I love nature and art; I warm my hands by the fire of life. One day, the fire dies down, and I'll be gone." Some friends have seen my QQ signature from a few days ago. I had no other intention than to express my enduring reverence and joy for life and nature.

　　I once dreamed that one day I would travel to every place on the map I've touched with my hands. I've always believed in myself, that I have the strength to love and bear everything that appears in my life—all things gentle, beautiful, desolate, and sorrowful.

　　This is the street I've lived on for many years. Years have passed, and the plane trees are still the same as when I first saw them. They've quietly accompanied me through the years, walking together, relying on each other in spring breezes and autumn rains. Neither you nor I will outlive these silent trees, but I believe we will look after each other until the day we wither away.

　　The rain comes and goes; when it rains, my hair is soaked, and when it stops, the sun comes out and dries it in the blink of an eye. I slowly look at every tree and every flower along the street; they are all so beautiful, so vibrant and full of life. Summer's life need not be troubled by even the slightest bit of worldly worries.

　　After dusk, I ride my bicycle from Chengde Road into Huaihai East Road, then turn onto Huaihai North Road, then into Datong Road and Shenyang Road, and then back again. I've always enjoyed the wonderful feeling of movement—a clear, powerful, and alive feeling; a feeling of being able to dream, to disregard everything, and to look down on everything.

　　Thank you for this day that arrived on schedule and passed by in the blink of an eye. My life will be even richer, like a full river.