Here I am again, in the secret garden on the rooftop. Gently I lay my feet on the grass. I remain my eyes on the ground as I leisurely walk deeper into the garden——The maple foliage gradually dyes the ground auburn; The shadow of the leaves prints on the foliage changes every time the autumn wind breezes.
When I arrive at the middle of the garden, I find the view has changed too——The two benches placed in the middle of the garden are unoccupied. Whereas on the ground in between the benches, the boy with silver hair lies on his back with his arms pillowing his head;
His eyes are closed, the light seeps through his silver lashes, tenderly kissing his blushing cheeks; The breezes visit as he softly breaths, the foliage floats in the wind and tardily falls next to him…
Look how peacefully his presence is accepted here, just like nature has taken him as one of them. I am starting to think that the garden will not seem so harmonious without him here.
