Most ardently
Where We Dream Wide, and Dwell Small
Where My Gaze Once Rested
The Place That Follows Me
Kyoto: Where the Maples Whisper
VideoAttempt: Life’s Stage
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zilinni@arizona.edu
My first journey to the grasslands was to Ulan Butong, which is a stretch of Inner Mongolian steppe lying quietly near Beijing, like a fragment of sky that had fallen to the earth.I always believed that travel outdoor should begin only after every detail is perfectly arranged, but my parents have never thought so.
In July 2023, my father happened to be on a business trip in Beijing. When his work was done, he and my mother rented a car, and without hesitation, we drove north for six hours, “to meet nature,” as my father said. The farther we went, the lighter the air became. The city’s dust fell away behind us until the horizon opened into endless green, and something deep within me fell silent.
July and August are the finest months on the steppe. Even before we stepped out of the car, its beauty struck me like a breath held too long, a sky so high and pure it seemed rinsed by wind, a sea of soft grass unfurling like velvet without end.Our jeep raced along winding tracks, leaping like a young deer. The driver laughed, and the earth itself seemed to pulse beneath our wheels.By night, the bonfire blazed. The Mongolian singers and dancers swirled in the firelight, their songs carrying both passion and grace. We joined them, clapping, leaping, our laughter mingling with the drums and the wind.
On the vast plain of Ulan Butong, I was small,yet light as air, as free as the wind that runs forever through the grass.
Where We Dream Wide, and Dwell Small
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我们都向往广阔的世界 栖身小小的角落