Being back in the little town I’ve always loved, even just for the brief period of a weekend, is a beautiful experience.
This morning started out fine and clear, with but a little moisture in the air – but as the day wears on, it is now become misty. Far off, the dark green and brown woods are shrouded in a thin veil; and the snow-crowned hills yonder are entirely hidden from my view.
This morning, I had a migraine attack.
A blinding aura that cruelly blocks my sight – the omen that always preceded the onset, was more dreadful than the actual pain itself. It deprived me of the ability to continuing my work, and ended what was supposed to be a productive morning.
I could feel my arteries convulsing, my neurons firing madly. The left upper part of my brain was being crushed, hammered, squeezed. Just when the excruciating pain was beginning to overtake me, I took my leave from my post, rode the commute then staggered back home, and collapsed into my bed.
Bayview Village in the morning, North York, ON
Fall claimed its arrival quite suddenly this year. Brisk wind arises, sending the chill breath of northern air, carrying a whiff of burnt leaves. Summer drew to an early end; nights lengthen, while days grow short. Sunlight melts into a mellower golden tone, and the sky seems to be bluer, stretching ever higher and thinner.
‘Tis a season of fresh new beginnings, of warm spices lingering on your tongue, of expecting reunions amidst the bleak and bitter cold. Pumpkin flavoured drinks and apple cinnamon pies, Jack-o’-Lantern and thrillers for show, houses and shops wearing black and orange, followed by green and red. Then ere you are ready for it, there it is again – the start of yet another year. “Time flies.” They say; cliche, yet how true! With the maturing of age, time seems to be slipping away even faster and faster.
For me, this Fall is for embracing the new. Not only does it mark the 5th year of my adventures in Canada, it has also brought me the start of a whole new career. Nearly 2 weeks ago, I was accepted into an organization with an amazing team that is genuinely supportive of each others’ growth. Now, I have the fortune to shape my aspirations – my passion, my dreams – into reality, which I almost gave up hope on.
This morning, in the “wee small” hour of daybreak, I woke up with a start for reasons unknown to me, and found myself in a world of blissful serenity. A brush of morning light found its way through the blinds, and filled my bedroom with its faint, rosy colour. I rose to its beckoning.
It all started with this little book I received from my mother. I must not have been more than 5 years old then. The book was nothing special, its contents were but samples of elementary-school students’ compositions with pictorial illustrations. Something many Chinese parents would buy for their little children who were just starting to learn how to read and write. Yet it was the first piece of literature I ever encountered; and it ensnared me. I remember going over those short essays and stories again and again, seeing what the authors saw, feeling what the authors felt. My imagination was kindled. Eventually I began to write on my own, in a little notebook, imitating and learning from what I had read. What was beyond my vision at that time, was that I had nailed my soul to the altar of something far powerful than I will ever be; and that I had pledged myself with a vow that cannot be broken or annulled.