"It is sheer good fortune to miss somebody long before they leave you.This book is for Ford and Slade, whom I miss although they have not left me."
What do you call this in English? "Cherish"?
Today on the way home, after walking my son to school in the morning, I had to take the other footpath in the woods due to some construction work on my regular route.
Walking on the muddy road that's covered with dead leaves, I was regretting again about not having bought a pair of rain boots. Even with an umbrella, English misty rain moistened my face and hair.
There is a pond near the end of the woods. The water was clear, so I could see all the broken branches and colorful leaves in the pond. Their stillness made the water looked like jelly.
Then I looked up. There were a few tens of ducks, some moorhens and a Canadian goose, all lined up as immobile as the Sphinx.
It felt like I was witnessing a solemn ceremony.
I just don't love these moments in life; I adore and cherish them.
I think it's because we know nothing lasts forever.
And I know I will leave here someday.
I miss England although I haven't left it yet.
