I love watering the garden.

The hose always tangles itself, mud stains my clothes, and my shoes almost never stay dry.

But I’ve never seen it as hard labor. Whenever there’s a chance to water the plants, I rush to do it.

Not because I love watering itself but because every time I water under the sunlight,I can see pillars of light.

When the mist spreads, the light stands up. At the right angle, a rainbow appears.

By moving the hose, I can draw light in the air adjusting curves, directions, intensity, as if I’m controlling a private natural special effect.

In those moments, I greet the flowers, the trees, the birds with pride. And quietly wonder: do I have a bit of a weather-summoning power?

Sometimes, the plants and birds respond to my emotions. Joy, sadness, thoughts I can’t name all can be shared with this small world.

No explanations needed. Just let the water flow, let the light rise.

I give my questions to the rainbow, my feelings to small living beings.

That watered place is not just a garden. It is my sanctuary. A small world where I can simply exist.



—— XC Scribbles · 捌拾捌 LXXXVIII 🌈