01
Early spring, the sun shines brightly. The warm sunlight seems to awaken all things that have slumbered through winter in an instant. The air is filled with a refreshing sweetness that soothes the soul and allows for easy breathing.
Walking with my child through this gentle spring, I felt the enchantment described by a poet friend: "Zen heart imprints the moon, zither flows like water; butterflies dance, flowers drift, willows like mist." Pondering this, I thought temples and Zen gardens must be serene and elegant places...
My playful child, ever drawn to novelty, stopped before a street stall and fell instantly in love with a butterfly net. "I really, really want to catch lots of beautiful butterflies!" they exclaimed. Unintentionally, I too discovered a unique bracelet, and so we both left with hearts full of joy.
02
Entering the "Great Hero Hall," the temple no longer held the vibrant incense smoke of New Year's Day. I'd heard that the best time to burn incense in a temple is early morning or morning, but it was already afternoon. Still, I held my child's small hand and bowed respectfully before the Buddha.
On the way here, I'd heard many vendors selling sandalwood incense, hawking, "Buy a few sticks of incense for blessings and peace!" I thought to myself, this was just a spontaneous trip—no need for deliberate prayers.
Coincidentally, I saw free sandalwood incense offered inside the main hall. I walked up, hesitating whether to light a few sticks myself.An elderly monk seemed to read my mind and kindly remarked, "Nine nines return to one; one is many."
I lit a single stick, gazing reverently at the towering yet benevolent Buddha. My heart felt utterly empty—I had no specific wish to make. Whether fortune or misfortune, all is "grace."
03
The cobblestone path, engraved with lotus blossoms, bloomed amidst the Zen courtyard where ethereal chanting echoed.
My child watched quietly beside me. As I rose, he couldn't wait, clamoring to chase the butterflies in his heart...
Spotting a pool of clear water, the child swiftly waved his "net" toward schools of lively, adorable goldfish.
"Mommy, why do they all run away when I try to catch them? But when I stop, they swim back?" the child cried in confusion.
I replied, "Every living thing cherishes freedom. Freedom is our best friend."
So the child stopped fussing over the elusive fish. Turning, he began playing hide-and-seek with the carefree fish in the water. His innocent laughter seemed to amuse the red plum blossoms by the shore, about to fade away quietly. Their fragrance grew richer and richer, intoxicating the air.
04
We've walked this same path countless times, yet each journey feels like a fresh "first encounter." The beautiful world constantly reveals new facets, letting me grasp the true meaning of "From the front, it forms ridges; from the side, it forms peaks. From near or far, high or low, each view is different."
We climbed the gently ascending slope through an ancient cedar forest, solemn and pristine. Perhaps freshly watered, the air carried a simple, refreshing scent. My child clung to my back, repeating the name I'd shared—"The First Cedar Forest North of the River"...
05
To passersby, hiking with a three-year-old in tow might seem like a burden.
Alone, one finds freedom; with another, an inseparable closeness. With this innocent child by my side, I gained a joyful and sweet sense of responsibility.No one demanded I drag my young son up the mountain against his will. If tired, we simply stopped wherever we were.
By the time we reached Songxuan Pavilion, I was weary. So we turned back, watching the hikers now ascending the path we'd just descended. My child seemed like a triumphant warrior, excitedly cheering at passersby—how could such pure joy be contained?
06
On the way back, we encountered that charming school of fish again. Like long-lost friends reunited, they gathered spontaneously around us. Seeing such a vibrant array of colorful fish, my thrilled child couldn't help but sing the Tang poem I'd shared with him: "Red beans grow in the south, / How many branches will bloom this spring?May you gather many, for this token holds deepest longing."
His clear, childlike voice echoed through the garden of budding camellias. Such a scene truly made others envious.
Waving our makeshift "nets," we reluctantly bid farewell to the resilient winter plum blossoms. Lifting our heads, we eagerly await the arrival of spring, when "peach trees are in full bloom, their blossoms bright and radiant." Come quickly, spring, and awaken this tree's "spring blossoms"!
Let us sing a song of longing for spring amidst the fragrance of blossoms, the fluttering of butterflies, and the songs of orioles and swallows.