Autumn and the Cats on Zijingang Campus

Autumn is an artist. In mid-November when the sky is crystal and the air is fresh, it’s perfect to go sightseeing around the Zijingang Campus. My friends and I strolled down the campus road where thousands of golden leaves were fluttering like butterflies, marveling at the nature’s magic which turned the campus into a colorful world of yellow and red. Then, a sudden rustle caught our attention. Looking down at the roadside, we were surprised to find an orange cat stepping on the fallen leaves, reaching out a fluffy paw to fiddle with the leaves. “What a harmonious scene! The cat’s color matches the leaves so well!” remarked one of my friends, to which we agreed in laughter. Hearing us talking, the orange cat turned his head to look at us. In a few seconds, however, he turned back to play again.

Source：pixabay.com

For people, autumn is the season of harvest. This holds true for cats, too. The lovely kittens in campus really know how to enjoy this golden season to the fullest. On your way to the teaching building, you spot them on the roadside sniffing the yellow foliage as if it was something novel; after a shower of autumn rain, you come out of your dormitory to see them curiously staring at their reflections in the puddle; upon finishing shopping in the Cheer Zone, you step out and find them squatting in front of the store, waiting for people to feed them. It’s like everything in autumn simply creates tons of pleasure for them. Meanwhile, their contagious joy never fails to infect those around them. In the Danqing residential complex, for example, cats have become a source of enjoyment for us. In the evening, it’s typical to see enthusiastic students trying to pet the cats, but often the cats simply walk away, as no snack is offered. Upon getting what they want, however, they will sit obediently, offering their fury chin to be stroked. At such moments, the air is always filled with cheerful laughter, despite the chilly autumn wind.

Sometimes I imagine I were a cat in the autumn. I’d like to be an orange one as the color fits perfectly with the season. In days when it’s sunny and cool, I would wander leisurely on the campus road. On both sides of the road stand tall ginkgo trees, whose leaves have turned yellow. A gust of wind creates a spectacular display of foliage, and then the road will be covered by fallen leaves, golden or red. And I would step onto them, creating crisp rustles. If I wished, I could lie comfortably on the vast grassland of Nanhuayuan, bathed in the mild sunshine of November. There might be several students playing frisbee not far away, and I could just sit there watching, without worrying about being late for my classes. Were I a cat, the autumn would be nothing but pure joy.

However, the autumn isn’t always sunny and cool, and so is our life. With the end of the autumn semester approaching, quite often we’re so occupied with our academic work that we simply ignore the poetic scenery around us. There could be several mid-term exams, which take us nights to review for. The next week, there is probably a presentation and a deadline for a 3000-word essay–it’s worse still if they are accompanied by the 12-minute run. Maybe the weekend can provide some relaxation? Oh no, there’s the physical fitness test which could be exhausting. To make matters worse, the rainy weather of Hangzhou can also be a source of anxiety. On rainy days, daily travel becomes a hassle, and the security of your umbrella is never guaranteed. Furthermore, on top of these factors is the capricious epidemic situation, which puts your freedom to travel in constant peril. No wonder plenty of students post on their WeChat Moments about their broken “mental state”; and no wonder many of them bemoan in desperation, “No one goes to college without going crazy!”

Now we’re in a dilemma where on weekdays we have no free time to relax, and on weekends we indulge ourselves in social media and short videos, after which we often regret the time we have wasted. What's even stranger is that, while we marvel at the beautiful scenic photos shared by our friends on WeChat Moments, we seldom want to go out and explore this graceful season ourselves. Growing up, our knowledge and ambition expand, but sometimes at the cost of curiosity and patience. When the pressure of academic performance piles up, we choose to “lie flat” or join the “involution”, both of which deprive us of our ability to appreciate the simple pleasure in everyday life. We no longer have the patience for reading, as solving math problems can contribute more to our GPA; we no longer have fun enjoying group work, as leaving the workload to others means less trouble for us; we no longer have interest in the natural beauty of autumn, as browsing social media and short video sites seems to bring more instant pleasure. The result of all these, as can be seen, is the broken “mental state” we experience.

But maybe there’re things we can do to make peace with ourselves, and transform the most torturous part of autumn into a happy time. Let’s learn from the cats, who seem to be always carefree as even the most trivial things appear to be enjoyable to them. They can play with the fallen leaves in high spirits, as if playing with an interesting toy. They can stare at their reflections in the puddle out of curiosity, as if it’s a completely novel experience. They can enjoy playing a game of cat chasing cat, as if they were in the Olympics. These are things that we used to be fond of in our childhood, which are unfortunately now taken as childish and naive. But maybe we should, in this golden season, let go of our unnecessary anxiety and recapture the innocence of our childhood. It can be as easy as taking a stroll with your friends on the weekend, chatting face to face instead of via the Internet; or it can be as easy as walking leisurely down the campus road, and the only task would be to enjoy the magnificent view of yellow leaves dancing in the wind. Simply put, the dribs and drabs of life create forever happiness and joy. And all that we need to do is discover these sweet moments, which often go unnoticed, and pass on this simple joy to others.

In autumn, the roads of Zijingang campus are covered in a golden blanket of fallen leaves. The blue sky contrasts the yellow ginkgos and the white Yueya Building, creating a colorful landscape. A gust of wind blows over, shaking the leaves so they make rustling sounds resembling a symphony. In the middle of the Qizhen Lake, little ducks are having fun swimming. It’s a magical world to explore, and there is every reason that we should enjoy it to the fullest, just like the cats.