I am back in Beijing after three months on the sunny shores of Australia. I needed the break from China but I also needed to return. I found that Beijing’s springtime provides some interesting food for thought.
Beijing is a strange place. I left when it was snowing, and now I return, snow melted and the air filled with floating droplets of what looks dust balls. I thought as I sat in the bus: the pollution has become so concentrated that soft white balls of dust now fill the air. When I reached out to catch one, it dispersed into small pieces and continued drifting. These unidentified specks traveled with the wind, blown about because they were too light to settle on any surface. I skeptically listened as the bus ticket inspector informed me they were actually 毛絮 (“Flocculus” or small fluffy mass) from the 楊樹 (Poplars) and 柳樹 (Willows) that bloom in the spring.
I stared out of the bus incredulously, thinking that this was more government propaganda at work. Only when my Peking University friends confirmed this to be true did I believe it.
It turns out 毛絮 is the vessel carrying the seeds of the Poplars and Willows. They are sent adrift from these trees around springtime in search of suitable places to germinate. I wonder: How many of these droplets actually find places to settle in the heavily urbanized, concrete Beijing?
When I think of myself in China, am I not also like the 毛絮, in search of the unknown, carried by the winds? Life often leaves us wondering what it all means and where we are heading.
Just like the 毛絮, we are seeking that elusive place where we belong, whether that be our homeland, in China, or elsewhere. Will we find it?
Well, I suppose, wondering and discovering is half the fun. Isn’t it?