Spring is no longer that shy girl in my memory, who came very late, hesitated in the distance, overwhelmed by shyness until I waved to her. Then she would scurry happily nearer, stop feet away, waiting to be hugged. But here and now, she, at the sight of me, grabs my hands and pulls me into her arms before I know what's happening.
So here I am, a boy accustomed to the drab and dry and dreary spring of the north, devouring the sweetness of a south
It rained days ago and everything glistens with moisture.Trees grow with new leaves of lively light green, not the dull and dusty color of winter. Several cherries are in full blossom now, with flowers clustering and squeezing and squabbling on the twigs. What attract me most are the meadows, the greenish yellow meadows.
Sprawling on the meadows with grasses kissing my face, I can hear the rustling of leaves in the brisk breeze, the whispering and chuckling and bickering of birds, and the trotting, shuffling, tramping of people passing by.
I can smell the refreshing fragrance that pervades the air,fragrance of flowering magnolias and growing grasses and moist soil. I inhale the fresh air as deeply as I can and the aroma in vades my whole being.
Also, I can see the fallen leaves of platanes wafting around like butterflies flying from one flower to another. Once so high above on the treetops enduring the trials of bitter cold and blustering gale, they are so easily torn loose by a warm breeze.Why?
I cannot help thinking of our situation. We Chinese defy any powerful enemy, but how come we have been so easily attacked by SARS?