Back to the hill
Right in front of the house which reared me up, there stands the hill sedately, enshrouded in a mist of tranquility and myth. In those early years, as a little boy, I lived a leisurely life without any pressure from school tasks, or social issues. The usual daily life for me was to fumble in the hill and understand the world better. However, after so many years of exploring until I grow older, the hill still seemed to be holding its secrets away from me. At that time, I called it exploration, and it truly was. However, the hill never failed to give me big surprises occasionally, although I knew almost all the paths concealed under the mess of bushes and woods. During my exploration of the hill, I learned a lot, and it had stirred up my passion for nature and science. This was the place where I had my childhood, as well as the place I would like to stay for my life. The hill kept giving me a sense as if it is an old man like my grandfather, aged, authoritative, and wise. When depart from the hill, I just kept missing it.
The hill was not large in size, but intricate inside. You could walk around in a couple of hours. However, getting lost inside would not be easy be solved. Rambling along the wriggling path weaving through the woods, you would definitely exclaim the fresh fragrant air of meadow and soil, flowers and woods. The sun light had to strive hard to beam through the thick layers of leaves and branches, forming numerous tiny dazzling spots on the soil ground and weeds beside the paths. When night falls, there would be another scene. The gentle pale moon light could never illuminate the inner part of the hill, or to eliminate the shade of aged huge trees. The unknown secretes were whispering in the darkness. Silence was stirred by the forever streaming brook and hooting owls. The breeze would stoke the hill, leading branches wave, leaves rustle.
Before any school began, I was completely free. The thing I did most was roaming in the hill with my friends. We played games, talked about dreams, and explored the places we had never visited in the hill. It was always a great pleasure to discover something new. I could recall the experience when we discovered the Bamboo Vale, as how we named this place. In a lovely morning, sun shining, birds twittering, little kittens mewing, my friends and I were playing in the hill as usual. It was in an instant that one of us cried out: “A path!” We followed his gesture and found a dark shade between the thick bushes, a path. Then, with curiosity and excitement, we entered the path, regardless to the small branches scratching our clothes and skins. When being able to straighten our bodies, I found us standing in a dark forest. Keeping on our journey, we weaved our way through the dense trees, and turned at unnoticeable corners behind the rocks. After a while, a sight of greenness encountered our eyes. A small valley with countless bamboos appeared right in front of us. Bathed with amaze in emerald beams, I gradually began to realize how spectacular this grove was. The bamboos were competing in heights as well as luxuriance. The branches lowered their brinks naturally and elegantly, forming picturesque sceneries which enamored my partners and I for so long. We merely gawked at her, the beauty in solitude in this hill, this grove of bamboos, and dared not step into the vale any further for fear of breaking her exquisite appearance and grace. Immersed in this bewitching valley, we appreciated the nature, with full heart, for creating such a lovely place.
That was how my friends and I discovered the valley of bamboos and we were all excited about this. I was pretty sure that our feelings at that moment were as fervid as Columbia when he discovered the America.
Wistfully, the time has irreversibly elapsed, and my childhood brimmed with exploration and the hill could never reprise. Even now the hill still occupied a large part in my heart. Sometimes in my dreams, my mind would track back to that time and travel in the hill, to visit my old haunts and the most memorable places.
May 2009
Zheng Duanhao