Spring in York

Paths to libraries: JBM library and York Minster library on a sunny day.

Spring in Hyde Park (1/April/2007)




The re-energizing English Spring is around again.
Hyde is now colorful again with daffodils, green meadows,






rosy cherries (? not very sure about the species),









and ever-beloved tulips.











Also, Hyde is vigorous again with a pair of fighting bears,











a happy dog with its balloon-making keeper (a very spring-way to walk dog, believe me! Look at the curve of joy of its body!!),








well-fed squirrels,









plus a pair of swans in the pound.

A pair of shoes

I have been walking in this pair of pumps shoes for more than 4 years. We traveled together from Taiwan to the UK and to other countries. I found the small knot in the front attractive. It brings together petals of leather and its two olive green leaves give a light final touch on backs of feet. Sometimes, when I look at them quietly, they look just like small steam buns in Cantonese restaurants. Sometimes, while I am walking, my toes peep out under the folds of petals as my movement compels them to blossom. Sometimes it feels as if kids are peeping behind shutters.

I am not wearing them as often as I used to in Taiwan as the chilly weather here always forces me to make a more appropriate choice. Most of the time, they rest silently on the shoe racks in the vestibule. Occasionally when the afternoon sun dusts golden powders upon them, I feel nostalgic for the steaming weather at home. But this green pair has more referential significance to me here: every time I have a chance to walk out in them, the weather must be very pleasant.

This entry might appear to be an eulogy to this travel companion, but in fact it is more like an obituary, I think.

It's getting very loose now. Last week when I walked in them again after the long winter, I was tripped a number of times within a short distance between the campus and the house. Even though we, my shoes and I, are ageing together, sadly I found that our physical movements do not resonate with each other anymore. Its aged body cannot hold my feet any longer, and my toes cannot maintain any grip on the shoes either.

It is a depressing and shocking realization. I have managed to polish it regularly in order to keep it in its best condition as I knew from the very beginning that my fondness of this pair might turn any loss of it into irremediable devastation. My efforts have somehow sealed its appearance in layers of wax but have eventually failed to resist the fact that its sinews and muscles are gradually decomposing.

It is very likely that I won't be able to wear this again this summer, but I am not ready to let it go from my feet. I won't be ready for 'letting it go' at all.