FINAL VERSION A Shifting Interpretation of The Pond

 

A Shifting Interpretation of The Pond

The slope was illuminated at an angle by the sinking sun in the west. Pale red flames of burning sun seemed to leap down upon it. The library windows were sparkling as if on fire. Streaming rays of the setting sun brightened the woods, which lay half in darkness. It shined majestically through haze-enshrouded trees and glittered magically on green grass. Trees flowed by in a warm looking film. The trail of light led to an opening in the woods, and a pond came into view. The surface reflected many trees that seemed to reach the bottom, and below it, the deep blue sky. Still, vivid images of willow trees reached down from its softly glowing, warm-looking surface. When a person is agitated or requires something to calm them, it is not always the existences of the real world that help the most.

Unperturbed lotuses swayed their perfect pearl white blossoms. A wonderful fragrance was carried by the wind to the shore from their golden centres. The misty woods had a sepia tint in autumn. While walking around the pond, various buildings would rise out of the grove of trees like a needle in the distance. Thoughts represented by going somewhere without people and living alone were at the doorstep. A place of relaxation, a place where people can lead a life undistracted and unconnected with the living world is required.

The focal point of the garden was the part of the pond directly in front of a low hill. Surrounding it were trees of an age and grandeur that were rarely seen in the region. Incongruous modern constructions did not trouble the trees rising majestically into the sky. Beyond the tall grass that almost looked wild, butterflies flickered through gaps in the leaves.The world became a still picture. Decades ago, when smoking was not banned, teachers would seat themselves on rocks and enjoy a quiet puff during break times. Smoke would drift in the afternoon light and hang in the windless air, heavy and bright like silk. Now, only tea was allowed. The garden’s exquisite perfection left not even the least conspicuous flower grown by accident. A faint but bitterly cold wind blew over the pond, shaking wrinkles onto the surface. The blue and cloud of the autumn sky mingled in the now trembling water to create sparkling blue rifts stretching to the opposite shore.

I looked up at the broad, unending sky. A meagre gleam was all that remained of the sunlight. A long wisp of cloud swept across the sky at an angle, like a line drawn with a brush in calligraphy. After entering a gate, I noticed the twin row of gingko trees that lined the path ahead. There was something strong and sad about the way the insufficient green leaves were scattered, too few to hide the branches. I walked on the carpetof slender leaves mottled with light green. Part of the pond showed between the woods with the deep, transparent blue of the background showing the soft hint of a muddy colour. I sat on a bench and drifted off. Sleep is the best ‘medicine’ for anyone with pain, anguish or worries. Time ceased to exist. Just then someone called my name.

It was the tall figure of a senior friend. We walked together for a while and marvelled at the splendour of the scenery. But it was different. Our perspective was no longer of the natural and undisturbed world. Perhaps it was because we were together as two individuals. By the time we were out on the noisy street, we were in the real world. I am living. Living,thinking, doing.

Noah Nishihara Homegroup T09