Suddenly, I craved a backpacking trip. Alone. Free-spirited like a bird. So, with a backpack on my shoulder, I hopped onto my motorbike and escaped the noisy city, escaped the cramped space of rooftops…
The suburbs still have many abandoned plots of land, and the reeds along the roadside are as beautiful as a painting. With each step, I took out my phone to record, simply using a tripod to hold the phone, pointing the lens towards the sun, remaining silent and waiting. And just like that, I had a beautiful video of the sunset. Meanwhile, I lay stretched out on the grass, enjoying the sunset. The sun rises and sets across that vast sky every day, yet I can never truly admire the sunset when I'm in the city. It's as if the rooftops have swallowed the sunset, hiding it in a box for me to admire alone.
I wandered among the rice paddies, their leaves turning golden. The plump rice stalks, nurtured by Mother Earth, now bowed their heads, one layer overlapping another like waves. Waves of rice. I raised my selfie stick, filming the rice paddies in the early morning. The dew-laden rice grains glistened, joyfully welcoming the dawn. The sun deepened the color of the rice grains until the dew dissipated, and the entire landscape was a brilliant golden hue, indistinguishable from the golden color of the sun and the golden color of the rice. I took a deep breath, inhaling the fragrant scent of the fields. A scent that accompanied me from my barefoot days, leading cows several times my size to find grass. How many years has it been since I last walked barefoot on grass? I couldn't answer the question time posed. I tossed my sandals to the base of a tree and happily stepped barefoot on the wet grass. Soft. Gentle. Oh, childhood memories, I've returned here, to immerse myself in the past…
Summer is the season when lotuses bloom profusely. The fragrance of lotuses wafts through the air, gentle and not as strong or pungent as the scent of laurel. Lying on the grass, head resting on my arm, legs crossed, eyes half-closed, I savor the refreshing scent of lotuses and the clean air of the fields, silently thinking how happy I am. Life is short, we live today and die tomorrow; enjoy every moment of happiness, don't worry about anything that will only bring more suffering. I take a good nap at noon, and upon waking, I cast my line to fish. In the evening, I gather some dry branches to make a fire and grill the fish I've caught. A thin wisp of smoke lingers in the air for a while before dissipating.
I remember when I was a child, every time we herded cows in the fields, we'd sneakily dig up sweet potatoes to roast. We'd eat them while blowing on them to cool them down, our mouths burning from the heat, but we'd still laugh heartily with joy. Back then, we'd wonder where the smoke would go, and we'd all agree that it rose into the sky, forming those dark clouds, and then the rain would fall. Kids these days know that clouds are formed from water vapor condensing. Kids today have so much more than we did back then. They have better conditions. More material possessions. The only thing is, they don't have the "wild childhood" we had back then…
I reminisced about my childhood, about those sweltering summer nights spent sleeping on mats on bamboo beds to keep cool. I'd spread out a thin mat I'd brought along, tied a mosquito net to a tree branch, and that night I'd sleep in the fields. The summer night breeze was cool and refreshing, the scent of lotus flowers grew stronger as the night progressed, and frogs croaked softly. All of this lulled me to sleep. Look, the children were playing mock battles, using blades of reeds broken from the edge of the rice paddies, shouting "cha, cha!" just like in those martial arts movies. When they were exhausted, they'd lie down on the grass, breathless, then burst into laughter because Tèo's pants had broken earlier. Look, we were playing bride and groom! The girls would gather dandelion flowers from the edge of the rice paddies, weaving them into a beautiful yellow wreath. The prettiest boys and girls would be chosen to be the bride and groom. The wedding procession was also filled with firecrackers, and then they sang the folk song "The bride and groom broke the vase, blamed the children, and got spanked," which angered the bride and groom, leading them to chase each other. When I woke up, I was still smiling at those childhood pranks. I wondered what my friends back home were doing now, and whether they still remembered those childhood days...
Summer has only just begun, and there's still plenty of time for me to wander and explore the charming suburbs. I feel like a child again, living carefree and without worries. I no longer remember that I'm a teacher, having to maintain a serious image in the eyes of my students. I'm no longer pressured by quotas or competitions. All that remains is the joy of wandering alone, freely breathing in the fresh air, freely seeking out sunsets to admire, and finding the moon to confide in.
Summer and solo backpacking trips. How wonderful!
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