Starting a New Year of Cycling
After the Beginning of Spring, the weather gets warmer day by day; during the daytime over the last two days, the temperature in Beijing has actually reached over ten degrees Celsius. Although it is not yet the season of "apricot rain that wets the clothes almost imperceptibly and willow wind that blows without chilling the face," the outdoors is no longer as cold as in winter, and we can cycle again.
Today was our first cycle ride in the Gregorian year 2021. We chose to ride from home to Fragrant Hills (Xiangshan) and then cycle back home. It had been a long time since we cycled, and my son said to me, "Dad, let's go see our vegetable plot!" So midway we stopped by the small plot of land we lease.
At this moment in my hometown in Hubei, the vegetable gardens are still green, but in Beijing the farm fields are desolate. For someone like me who loves nature and rural life, the northern winter is truly too long. I quite understand why the nomadic peoples of ancient northern China always wanted to seize the homelands of people in the south—who would not want to live in an environment like spring all year round? The days of holing up at home are very dreary; I had long wanted to get out of the house and run wild in the open fields.
It had been over two months since we last came to the vegetable plot, and the gatekeeper no longer recognized us. She asked what we had come in for, so we explained that we had come to see our leased plot. Once things were clear, the three of us were allowed through. The three bicycles charged around the vegetable plot, carefree all the way; three joyful hearts could barely be contained, about to leap out of our chests.
Setting off firecrackers is not allowed within the city of Beijing, but it is allowed out in the suburbs in Mentougou. Last year I heard firecrackers many times in Mentougou, so I very much hope to cycle to Mentougou these next couple of days to hear them. For a country lad like me, a New Year without the sound of firecrackers simply isn't the New Year.
My younger sister's family is in the Hubei hometown keeping my father company for the New Year, which makes me feel much more at ease; after all, I cannot let my elderly father spend the New Year alone. Having set my heart at ease, I can now arrange my own Spring Festival properly. So this morning I finished my last lecture of the Lunar New Year period, exchanged New Year wishes with my students, and in the afternoon I came out cycling.
I want to build up my stamina. If the opportunity arises in the future, I will consider cycling from Beijing back to my hometown. But this wish may be hard to fulfill, because there are so many long-term patients whose problems need solving, and the time I can squeeze out is very limited. Cycling from Beijing back to Hubei might take more than half a month, and I have not had such a long vacation for years; even a spare half-day is already a happiness.
I know that a considerable part of "me" no longer belongs to myself. Everyone is born with obligations and responsibilities to contribute to others. In a natural world where all living beings are deeply interconnected, no life form is completely independent. Even if we do not serve humanity, we serve a multitude of microorganisms—our bodies host vast numbers of them. Fortunately, however, my will is to a large extent free.
Happy people are always happy, and sorrowful people are always inclined to sorrow. Thank heaven for giving me genes that make it easy to be happy. I am a person born happy; as long as I am released from all kinds of cages and set free between heaven and earth, my mood will be incomparably joyful.
I am already looking forward to the croaking of frogs on spring and summer nights—there is a small river near my Beijing home where, surprisingly, I can still hear frogs on spring and summer nights, which is unimaginable in urban Beijing. I also look forward to fields where rice waves rise and fall in the breeze, and to the pine forests covering the hillsides and the azaleas at their feet. All of these can make my face glow. Nature never lacks the breath of life; as long as I step into nature, the fire of my life can be instantly kindled.
Life is the most precious thing in this world, and I love it. Civilization sometimes is like dark clouds, covering up the true colors of life. Many of us live in civilized society, exhausted in body and mind, the genuine smile gone from our faces, squeezed into utter melancholy by high-rise buildings. I am willing to live my whole life in the unbridled passion nature has bestowed on me; only this passion can make my life splendid.