Afternoon Walk

Sometimes in movies there's a scene where the protagonist is insanely excited. Or maybe he falls in love. Or he realizes that he's been incredibly stupid and sets out to fix it. Whatever the reason, he walks outside and realizes the world is suddenly brighter, more colorful, and full of life. Often, this is achieved by movie magic, accompanied by an upbeat song.

            I witnessed this effect today, but I didn't understand what was happening at first.  During my spontaneous afternoon-walk around town, I couldn't figure out why I kept staring at my surroundings as if I had never seen them before. Eventually, I realized that the ever-present haze enveloping the city (dust, pollution, or mist—depending on the day) wasn't there. Instead, I was privileged to have sunlight and a clear blue sky, which brought everything into sharp focus. Where usually buildings in the distance are fuzzy and nondescript, I could see defined lines. I saw more color than I realized Qingdao possessed. I even saw mountains that I never knew were there. I didn't sing, but I did smile.

            My walk ended at a small lake near campus. Sitting in the grass under a willow, watching sun and wind dance across the water, I realized that I was happy. Not jubilant, like the character in the movie who whistles while jauntily striding down the street, but calm-happy. The feeling that comes when you have a day free of obligations and can escape responsibilities. The feeling you experience when you're alone except for a sturdy tree, the most trustworthy of friends. The type of feeling that seems to promise scabbed, Band-Aid-covered wounds heal (even if they scar) and life moves on. It's a nice feeling.

Priceless Gifts

by Anna Swir

An empty day without events.

And that is why

it grew immense

as space. And suddenly

happiness of being

entered me.

I heard

in my heartbeat

the birth of time

and each instant of life

one after the other

came rushing in

like priceless gifts.