Tuesday, December 8, 2009

The nightly ride...

It begins against a pinkish background; the sun is about to leave the sky. The students, here and there, some calmly others noisily, process slowly down the hill; a living flux. Tsing Hua is never empty, but always peaceful. The road turns into a trail; it is now when the nightly journey really begins.

An undefeated steep segment stays victoriously, it is possible to hear it whispering a welcome back in the gust. The wind stays, the steep slope's way to encourage those riding; don't give up... Just a few meters more... You will do better the next time...

The rest of the trail is silent, respectful; the ghostly walkers too; it is possible to smell the silence, to feel it crawling on the skin, to taste its herbal flavour, but hear it.

The night has come; the dark sky vault can be seen as the bamboo canopy is left behind; stars are hidden beyond our polluting photons, dreaming about that time when they could see those tiny beings that manage to hide their lives from them behind a resplandecent courtain.

Now it is possible to hear the silence, it croacks! Splashes! Flaps its dark wings on the sky and screeches!

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