Friday, 4 September 2026

MAY SPRING COME

A few days ago, when I was jogging in Bernie Brae Park nearby, I was startled by a swooping magpie, which has allowed me to suddenly realise that it was already September and winter has quietly given way to spring here in Brisbane. As is my yearly springtime tradition, I played the Japanese song "May Spring Come”, and this year on the dizi (Chinese bamboo flute).

From a very young age, I have read countless poems and prose pieces praising the beauty of spring. Ironically, spring used to be my least favorite season. Growing up in my hometown, I remembered spring as being constantly wet, misty, and drizzly. The dampness often made me feel gloomy. "This is so different from the scenes described in poems!" I used to wonder. 
Later, I moved to Xi'an for university. Winter in Xi'an is bitter cold, causing all the trees and bushes—except for the pine trees—to lose their leaves. But when spring arrives, the foliage sprouts anew, bursting into a green so vibrant that you can hardly spot a trace of yellow or brown. Blossoms bloom, flowers flourish, and birds sing around the city.
Spring is always the best season in Brisbane. The days grow longer than the nights. The sunshine is bright but not yet too harsh. If you can dodge the swooping magpies, it is the most pleasant time to play on the park lawns, admire the colorful flowers, and enjoy picnics under the shade of the trees.
However, inside the house, you sometimes start spotting insects, ants, and cockroaches. The most annoying nuisance of all is the sheer number of houseflies. I remember when I was living with my grandma in Indooroopilly, many a morning a bowl of noodles that was prepared by grandma had already been waiting for me before I even got out of bed.
"I’ve cooked some noodles for you!" Grandma said.
"But wait!" she suddenly exclaimed.
She quickly grabbed a fly swatter and smacked a housefly resting on the edge of the bowl.
"Ah, I got rid of the fly!" she said proudly.
Uh, I really wish you hadn't done that! I thought to myself. I felt sick to my stomach, imagining the dirt from the swatter falling straight into my breakfast. But unwilling  to voice my thoughts to her, I ate the whole bowl anyway, pretending I didn't mind it at all.

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