<p class="ql-block">June 14, 8:30AM</p><p class="ql-block">It was a Sunday morning in mid-June, and over in the US, the World Cup was in full swing. I had gotten up at three in the morning to watch Switzerland play Qatar. The match was a bit dull and ended in a 1-1 draw. Watching the game brought me back thirty-six years to a similar summer, when I used to wake up in the middle of the night in my Peking University dorm to watch football. After a brief moment of nostalgia, I noticed the dawn breaking in the east. It was getting bright, right around my usual time for a morning walk. I headed toward the river as usual, wondering which way I should go today.</p><p class="ql-block">I usually head north along the Yongxing River into the wetlands park, but today I decided to change it up and walk south. By the time I reached Zhongbao Village in the Panggezhuang area, the surroundings had turned into a rustic countryside. Seeing this place again after two months, the scenery was completely different from spring. It was full of the fresh energy of early summer, which gave me a wonderful surprise.</p><p class="ql-block">Once I cleared the wetlands park, the river suddenly opened up. What surprised me most was that the river was full of early-blooming lotuses. Sharp new buds were quietly poking out of the water. Half-opened, they looked like shy young girls—even more graceful and alive than full blooms. The lotus leaves and flowers grew alongside arrowhead and reeds. Even though they were surrounded by dense wild plants, the lotuses still strove upward, growing freely in nature's quiet competition. Fledglings played together on the water, looking incredibly cute and lively. Willows on the bank swayed gently in the breeze, and birds chirped sweetly in the woods. Quite a few anglers sat quietly by the shore, enjoying the morning peace. The whole scene was incredibly serene, like a paradise on earth.</p> <p class="ql-block">Coincidentally, a few days ago, my wife was in Zhejiang and went to a lotus garden to see the full blooms, sending me photos of the scenery. I never thought that, despite being a thousand miles apart, I would encounter a river of lotuses here along the Yongxing River in Beijing. It felt like a magical coincidence. What made me look forward to the evening even more was that she would be arriving from Zhejiang tonight. The thought of our upcoming reunion warmed my heart.</p><p class="ql-block">With the Dragon Boat Festival just around the corner, there were plenty of busy people along the riverbank. Some were wading into the shallow water to pick reed leaves for wrapping *zongzi*. I took a photo of this and sent it to the family group chat. The kids asked about it out of curiosity, so I told them about the tradition of reed leaves and the festival, which brought back a flood of memories. I remembered how, as a child, I would carry a bamboo basket and go pick reed leaves with my friends at this time of year. Back then, wrapping *zongzi* was a real skill; if you weren't good at it, the glutinous rice would leak out. Anyone who was good at it was always praised by the neighbors. Back then, my family would also dry and bundle long, slender wild grass to sell at the market before the festival. Those grass ropes tied together so many happy childhood memories.</p><p class="ql-block">Even during the thirty-plus years we lived abroad, we always kept the Dragon Boat Festival traditions. My wife is amazing at wrapping *zongzi*, and making them by hand every year became our family ritual, which the kids absolutely loved. However, it was hard to find wild reed leaves overseas; we had to buy them from the market, so we lost the fun of harvesting them from the river. Still, every festival, we would pick calamus and mugwort to hang by the door for blessings, keeping up that uniquely Chinese sense of ritual.</p><p class="ql-block">On my way, I ran into an elderly man who had just come out of the water. His clothes were soaked, and he was holding fresh, tender lotus shoots. Chatting with him, I learned that the lotuses and arrowhead in this area had been planted more than ten years ago. Every autumn, the villagers go into the water to harvest them. Along the way, I also saw volunteers working hard to pick up trash along the road and the river, carefully keeping the environment clean. Picking reed leaves, digging for lotus shoots, fishing, and volunteering—all these different slices of life blended together into something vibrant and warm.</p> <p class="ql-block">Now that I'm back in my homeland, standing by the Yongxing River, I still feel a bit dazed. Time passes so fast that for a moment, I can't tell which place is my real hometown. With the Dragon Boat Festival approaching, the ancient feeling of "homesickness during festivals" naturally comes to mind. Fortunately, the beautiful scenery of the water and lotuses, along with this warm, everyday life, gently soothes the melancholy in my heart. This accidental walk, encountering such a beautiful river view while waiting for my family to return, is truly a blessing. Where the heart feels at peace is home, and I will treat this place as my destination.</p><p class="ql-block">Walking more than ten kilometers back and forth this morning, measuring the landscape with my own footsteps, I encountered the summer breeze through the lotuses and the warmth of everyday life. Both my body and mind were gently healed by this beautiful scenery. This long walk was entirely worth it.</p>