In the past four days. Every day I was welcomed by a foggy morning. This morning the fog was getting even worse, I couldn't see anything 30 yards away. I was shocked by the heavy fog first, later by its quick disappearance. From the peak to disappearance, the process took less a hour. when I looked outside from the window, I saw a beautiful day with blue sky and white cloud, it was totally bright and clear!
心中惦念着BLUE HERON, 8:15分进林。它在那里，静静地立在路对岸，塘缘的湿地上。还是老样子，像在静听，冥思，感受周身自然中的一切。我不也曾经在林子里立着，听听树叶小鸟溪水声吗？那种伫足静听简单却美好。BLUE HERON就像享受孤处的隐士。
The sounds from Construction works came before 7am. I am an early bird, these sounds during the pandemic isn’t annoying. in contrast, I feel being encouraged, It recalls me the bugle calls I used to hear every morning more than thirty years ago.
I grew up in a military base. Every morning, at 5:00 in summer and 6:00 in winter, the sound of waking-up bugle calls would spread in the air, filling up every corner of the base. With company of the bugle calls, my father went outside for physical exercise.
I walk into the wood at 8:15am with an expectation to see the blue heron. He/she is there, standing on the wetland in far side of the pond. As always, he/she is listening, pondering, and feeling. what she/he does seems like an open-monitoring meditation. It means where you pay attention to all of the things happening around you—you simply notice everything without reacting. Sometimes I did the same thing in the wood. The simple mindfulness was absolutely beautiful, I should say.
想去看路边塘中是否还有另一只BLUE HERON, 路边的景象让我大吃一惊。灌草树木都锯割掉，只留下了两个树墩和一片还带着湿气和野味的根茬。这等同于将一个树篱开了一个大口，半个塘子大曝于路边。我担心BLUE HERON不会再来了。
再次入林往回家走，经过塘子时，他/她已不在那塘中了。他/她立在那，于我那就是一幅画。他/她走了，画中像是一下少了主人。我留恋着不想离去，小挪几步后，将目光从他/她曾经立着的塘中拉到身边的草木。低处的草绿叶中现出一点点桔红色，还有白粉紫三色形成渐变色的姆指花。近处一株最后的白色DAISY FLEABEAN, 远处殷实灌草的绿色间现出POKEWEED深紫色的串珠浆果..
It’s getting hot, in the brilliant sunshine, everything seems dazzling. I regret of not wearing a hat since I don’t’ want my skin getting burned tan, especially the skin in my face. so I rather choose the same road I walked from, walking back to the wood, a short-cut to home.
In the pond, there is no blue heron anymore, she/he has left. When she stood there, the scene looked like an impressionism art of figure. Without him/her, the picture is still nice, but incomparable to that one. The disappointment makes me feel a loss.
Taking a few small steps, I switch my view from where she/he used to stand to the site around my feet. All of a sudden, I feel a bliss! a few orange pea flowers are popping up in the green. They are tiny ,but with their bright color and ornamental shape, they look so attractive! I am going to check it from my book. under them, I see a cluster of wild flower--lady's thumb blooming. In the near sight, the last Daisy fleabeans are erecting proudly. In the far sight, strings of dark purple berries from pokeweed pop out from the greenness of thick bushes,
Months ago, the area adjoining Bark Park was cleaned up, later it was covered by compost (a mixture of chopped wood, ground leaves and soil). Now, the whole area is covered by vibrant greenness. Curiosity lead me to the greenness. I want to access to it, to take a close look at the grasses which bring the vibrance.
In the fresh greenness, a small cluster of lemon yellow color jump into my eyes. They are blooming wilder flowers--Butter and egg, Seeing them again, and here, bring me a happy surprise! Beside them I find another treasure, a bright orange flower I have never seen before. The eye-catching beautifulness make me doubt it a type of wilder flower. The seeds should come from somebody’s garden.
Grasses and weeds grow wherever the seeds fall on, and bloom into beautiful flowers. Optimism strongness, bravery… one followed by the another, some powerful words come into my mind. In the end, the phrase Home is where the heart is brings peace back to me.