Li Chun (Start of Spring) - Yearning for the Spring Wind on the Ice [Pictures and Text]
An agricultural proverb describes the three stages of Li Chun: "In the first stage, the east wind melts the ice; in the second stage, hibernating insects begin to stir; in the third stage, fish swim near the surface carrying pieces of ice." Every five days mark a new stage, fifteen days in total, and the ice in the river begins to melt. Words sound better than songs. After enduring the entire winter in the north, we eagerly await the arrival of spring. However, even after winter has transformed, there is still no trace of spring's return. For me, perhaps the signs of spring have not yet been discovered, making it hard to wait.
Li Chun has arrived, and after being cooped up all winter, I long to bask in the spring sunshine and breathe in the spring air. I dare not remove my thick winter coat, but I do take off my mask that protects against the biting cold winds, heading to the open lakeside to yearn for the spring breeze, foolishly waiting. There, the wind blows, still bitterly cold and cutting through the ears, making it difficult to open one’s eyes. The icy wind slaps against the face like countless needles pricking, turning the nose and cheeks red and uncomfortable. The snow on the hillside doesn’t care about Li Chun, remaining cold and showing no intention of melting. Anywhere with water, ice blocks, chips, and pools persist. The wind of Li Chun cannot break the thousand-mile ice seal or disperse the stubborn frost lingering everywhere.
I reminisce about the Li Chun of my hometown. Despite the pale sunlight and sudden warmth followed by cold, the corners of walls become damp and moldy, clothes left out to dry remain wet for eight or ten days, and leftover rice dumplings from the Spring Festival grow moldy, emitting an unpleasant smell akin to dead rats. Nevertheless, the spring wind caresses the earth, the drizzle sways like willow threads, the spring atmosphere nurtures the plants and flowers, and birds chirp and fly, making the ecological reality of the Li Chun season truly live up to its name.
In the north, as the wind of Li Chun arrives, don't blame me for mistaking the dust-laden wind for the passage of time. The current scene shows the lingering winter cold and delayed spring, with the wind sweeping across the vast grasslands and deserts of the frontier. It's almost impossible to feel the gentleness of the wind; it wildly sweeps the willow branches, crashing heavily onto the ice surface. Moreover, the wind of Li Chun in the north is quite cunning and unreliable. In the morning, a warm breeze raises the temperature to five degrees Celsius above zero, but it can change abruptly, bringing a sudden cold front that drops the temperature to ten degrees below zero, sending all the warmth back to winter. People dare not take off their down jackets, and those rushing by once again put on masks, white dots scattered amidst the haze. Even the dogs and couples walking in the cold are dressed in warm clothing, looking rather amusing.
The tender willow buds have just peeked out, only to be pushed back by the howling wind. The willow leaves of Li Chun will not falter, but this wind is too heartless! Flowers dare not bloom, so people decorate the icy ground and snowy landscape with plastic flowers to add color to the spring scenery. Sometimes, people enjoy deceiving themselves.
In Wuhan, during ordinary days, seeing the cold wind swirl, I hesitate to go outside, feeling insignificant in the cold, not because I fear it, but because I am not as delicate as some might think. Unexpectedly, on this day of Li Chun, even though spring has arrived, the wind continues to blow unfavorably. The piercing wind freely cuts through, and I endure the bitter cold to welcome the first snowstorm of spring in 2012. Longing for spring and experiencing the changing seasons is like a Buddhist devotee awaiting the incense offering. Thinking about it, it's worth it. Although the wind of Li Chun in the north is cold, it is ultimately the harbinger of spring, awakening all things and transforming the world. Just as flatulence is the precursor to excrement, though smelly, it brings relief and comfort afterward.
Those northerners who love ice and snow go wild. They are reluctant to see the ice melt, yet they hope for the true arrival of spring. It's not spring calling them; they are calling for spring. On the ice, they celebrate the coming of spring using skates, sleds, and sleighs, forming a grand procession. Mimicking the movements of spring birds spreading their wings, they glide, shaking off the old dust accumulated over the year. Their laughter and play encourage spring to return quickly, and the multi-dimensional, lively life on the ice calls for the genuine arrival of spring.
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On February 4, 2012, at the start of Li Chun, with the background music "Falling Leaves," I conclude that in this era, each of us is a tiny ant, yearning to find sincere emotions in this bustling city. Some people always fall in love too late, so some choose to remain bachelors. However, Gu Jiji has taught us not to love too late and not to repeat past mistakes.
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