The Snow in Qiushi Garden

Someone once asked me, “Which season do you expect most?”

Definitely, my answer is winter.

As a native Cantonese, the only impression that I have of winter is that it’s freezingly cold. Before coming to Zhejiang University, I had never seen real snow, not to mention having a childlike snowball fight or making a hilarious snowman. Therefore, the season I “expect” most will surely be winter, a real winter, instead of the “fake” one with a temperature of no less than 10℃.

Since I came to Hangzhou and studied in Qiushi Garden, I have been yearning for snow. My friends, however, have been constantly dissuading me from flaring my hope up. They are right, literally. What is waiting for me in winter is not snow, but rain, nasty rain. Raindrops fall from the sky, down to my body, making the cold weather even colder. So humid is Hangzhou in winter that the chilly air could even penetrate my skin. What’s worse, it seems that Hangzhou’s rain is crazy about dripping down on my way to or from teaching buildings.

“Some people jokingly say that Hangzhou has only two seasons–summer and winter; while for one day, I can experience four seasons from dawn to dusk, and thus I want to call it ‘sprummerautwin’,” I once posted in my Wechat Moments.

I still remember the first time that I saw snow. It was a cold night on December 29th, 2020. The snow was not heavy, falling with raindrops, but it was a stunning surprise for me, a freshman from South China. I rushed out of my dormitory, held out my hands and tried to feel the purity of snow. What a pity it is that I did not enjoy snow after that during my freshman and sophomore years.

Though I had few chances to enjoy snow in Qiushi Garden, I encountered it in other ways. Last semester, I signed up for English Literature, and one day my teacher shared a poem titled The Snow Man by Wallace Stevens. “One must have a mind of winter / To regard the frost and the boughs / Of the pine-trees crusted with snow;” This is the first stanza of the poem, also my favorite one. Only with a mind of winter can we understand the natural images of winter such as the frost, the boughs, the pine-trees, and snow. For me, it might be pitiful that I have seldom appreciated the mesmerizing beauty of snow, but once I have a mind of winter, I can feel snow, understand snow, and even become snow. The revery alone will do, if snow is few. I am not a viewer of snow, but I can be a feeler of snow. In Qiushi Garden, I can feel the Zen spirit of snow, and foster the mind of winter.

Source: pixabay.com

This semester, I am taking another course, English Stylistics. Last week, my teacher encouraged us to parody Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening, a well-known poem written by Robert Frost. Someone created a poem from the perspective of the poet’s horse, while someone even imagined that he was the poet’s cat at home, waiting for his owner. Discussing with my partner, I finally wrote down on the paper, “Stopping by the Chimney on a Snowy Evening, by Santa”. Yes, I imagined that I was Santa Claus on that snowy evening, overlooking the snow-covered forest, observing the poet and his horse, and then getting into the house through the narrow chimney with gifts. The whole poem-composing process was tough and challenging, for we should exercise great care in its rhyme, foot and meter, above all, its content. Finishing our creation and handing it in to my teacher, I gained a strong sense of achievement. The poem once again engendered my unlimited reverie about snow and winter. At the end of the class, my teacher told us, “It would be better if today were a snowy day.”

What a coincidence! Just one week later, still in the class of English Stylistics, snowflakes danced gracefully and elegantly in Qiushi Garden all of a sudden. However, we had to confine ourselves to our residential hall due to the coronavirus. Is the sky crying for us? Maybe not. The unexpected snow brings us awe and comfort rather than sadness and melancholy. Many of us run to the balcony excitedly, taking photos and enjoying the snow. It is the heaviest and most breathtaking snow I have encountered. I hold out my hands, astonished by the trees’ new shiny white coats. “Staycation in the Dorm on a Snowy Evening”, I told my teacher. She, however, shared with us another poem, “Had I not seen the sun / I could have borne the shade”. During these snowy days, though our flesh and blood are bound to the dorm, our mind and soul are liberated like flying snowflakes.

Quite a lot of people in Qiushi Garden are contributing all they can to support us. My mind flashes back to the little march girl in Anderson’s fairy tale. We, just like the girl, are shivering in the snowy night. The difference is that we don’t have to strike matches, for this time we will light up a warm fire together. Sitting by the fireplace, we keep our longing for a better life with an optimistic attitude.

The snow is pure, so are our wishes to end the epidemic. Faced with the snowy scene, Mao Zedong wrote, “Look at the landscape of North China; The vast land is covered with ice, And the snow flits far-flung in the sky.” But he also encouraged us, “Greater and more noble heroes / Are coming up today.” Indeed, enjoying the snow in Qiushi Garden, I believe that a better life is approaching, and our future will be full of hope. Snow, the snow in Qiushi Garden, endows me with wonderful surprises, with a mind of winter, with poetic imagination, with comfort and hope. Winter is also hopeful. After all, if Winter comes, can Spring be far behind?