See someone off on the street

It was the season of lush vegetation, on the street people were rushing forward eagerly, while we were going in the opposite direction, against the sound of car horns, against the lights, against the dust. No one spoke to each other but both were immersed in their own memories.

In the city, we can still escape the noise. Sometimes we even feel lonelier and more isolated than before the hustle and bustle. The more we think about it, life is the intersections, the individual slices of each person with different moods.

In the past, the mountain town in my heart was very magical. The street was winding, not bustling, few high-rise buildings, only rows of wooden houses with tiled roofs but stylish and luxurious. Maybe because at that time the building materials did not have eye-catching and convenient designs, so the architecture was more profound.

The carpenter does not rely on paint but is passionate about each chisel and saw stroke, creating the sedimentation of time. Wood and talented hands sublimate into windows, railings… no matter how harsh the sun and wind of the highlands are, they only deepen those lines.

At that time, we were still young. Or rather, it was a blessing because we were just children. Children can open their innocent eyes wide and take in all these impressions. I remember the times when we followed our parents and also the times when we were chirping together on the street like birds. A random pebble was stepped on by my feet on the road. But that pebble was lucky because it was not restrained by the mason when he threw it into the pile of mortar to pour the foundation and the ceiling.

We kids loved to go out into the street to let our dreams fly into the streets and windows. Oh, the dirt road behind us, muddy on rainy days and dusty on sunny days! Oh, the windows at home were lined with wooden planks, the knife marks still rough! I loved the railings and bars carved with mysterious shapes as if they came from European fairy tales. Later, I realized that I had sent my adventures into them with my mind.

Then one day, the bus took us far away from home. The newly opened road did not give passengers the chance to see the mountain town while the bus was moving. I was silent and forever kept in my heart the impression of a certain afternoon, thinking that I would laugh with my friends again with innocence, not knowing that I had to grow up since then.

Then we returned to this street by different ways. Our eyes were no longer on the rows of dilapidated houses huddled next to the tall buildings. The road back to the village was paved but the relatives had scattered. The young went to big cities to make a living, the old went to stay with their children to look after their grandchildren, they secretly sent their homesickness through the window facing the distant mountains.

Sometimes when I visit the city, while sitting in a coffee shop, I catch the eyes of a friend who has just gotten out of the car. Those eyes are very different, that soul contains a different attitude. Maybe, I am the only one who still sees the city with a bit of the past…

Some earthquake on the other side of the world collapsed buildings, crushed cars and damaged countless properties. One day, I felt the ground beneath my feet sinking when I learned that the company had gone bankrupt, many projects were unfinished. I recognized your pensive figure on the sidewalk. You are more successful than me.

We bought walking shoes together, and in the afternoons we wandered under the trees, even though we could only watch the sunset gradually appearing at the end of the road. Life is so short, just walking and finding that random pebble from the past is so difficult. That pebble is probably like me, wandering in an alley under the feet of another child.

Today, I saw you off across the street. A luxury car was waiting to take you to the airport to go to the far South with your children. Suddenly I thought of a small bird that had just flown away and was only a small dot at the end of the sky.

Life seems so long and wide yet so narrow. Seeing someone off on the street feels like losing something so great in my soul. Then I draw the old street again, still the wooden houses, the bars, the railings, still the wandering children with those random pebbles!