Time Amidst Willow Shadows and Lotus Whispers

As the morning mist lingered, Qisheng Lake awoke. The wooden boardwalk, damp with cool moisture, stretched like a wet silk ribbon meandering toward the heart of the lake. A few egrets skimmed the water's surface, their wingtips brushing ripples that pushed the dawn light in layers to the stone steps below.

Though small, the lake cradles all four seasons. In late spring, willow tendrils tremble green as they dip into the water, swaying in unison with the breeze—as if the lake itself were gently combing its long hair. Early summer brings the liveliest lotuses, their pink-and-white blooms rising among emerald leaves, scattered like spilled rouge across a jade plate. Sometimes a dragonfly alights on a bud, its wings so transparent the veins are visible, hushing even the air.

The lake's central island is a quiet refuge. Flagstone paths wind around ancient locust trees, where elders often gather to play chess, the clack of pieces startling dozing sparrows from the branches. The reeds along the shore hide countless tiny secrets—echoes of frog songs, bubbles from minnows, or perhaps a child's lost laughter.

At dusk, lanterns flicker to life like stars scattered on the water. The evening breeze carries the scent of aquatic grass, brushing past benches where murmurs soften through the lake's filter. Distant skyscrapers blur into silhouettes, making the lake glow clearer—a jade polished by time, resting serene at the city's heart.

Walking back on the boardwalk, hollow footsteps startle two night herons. As they take flight, droplets shaken from their wings land on lotus leaves, rolling to the edge—plink—as if Qisheng Lake had softly turned in its sleep.

Post by Enchantingwhimsy6 | Jul 22, 2025