Reflecting on Summer's Heat and Churning Energies

Summer has come. When I realized this, I was lying in bed digesting food, not knowing whether it was the sound outside my window or something etched into memory that made me feel sluggish and sleepy. I dont usually take a nap at noon; instead, I just lie there letting my thoughts wander freely. However, during the afternoon, when my thoughts seem as vivid as images, they only skim across like , vanishing without a trace. I remember the prolonged heatwaves depicted in books and on screens; the carefree summer of childhood, marked by symbols that also bring comfort; the heat that seeped into my bed during midday when I lay still while the season passed onward; the exhausting workload that now feels so tiring after years of toil; and Ms. s understanding of summer in The Life of a Fly where she hides the concept of summer behind drapes, leaving the stage open for young girls only. I cant even fathom the vast gap between my room and that distant summer heat. I cant comprehend these contradictory emotions that cross temporal and spatial boundaries. There are so many things I cannot understandperhaps forever beyond understanding. Lying still in bed, I dozed off several times, letting my thoughts and body warm up together, since thinking is unimportant. So I didnt even bother to think; instead, I just let memory play out its course. Indeed, why do humans feel the need to churn out so many energies and ideas?

Looking back over these two months of things I happened to take in during my downtime, I realize that I wasted a lot of time on information that left little trace in my mind. Perhaps it was my sensitivity toward the external climate that made me engage in such prolonged thinking, maintaining continuity in my thoughts despite being idle in between. But at noon, the heat still clung to me through my spirit like an unwelcome guest, lingering for a long time before dragging its weight down upon me with an extended pause and bringing about fatigue and discouragement, making me suddenly lose all confidence in my previous resolve. However, I dont think its necessaryor even desirablefor me to resist such a natural emotion. When life is rendered meaningless, one should simply accept that; when there is meaning, one must take action as dictated by ones own circumstances. I had been overly tense before. In fact, time doesnt need filling, and neither does emotion.

Sinking into the mattress, taking deep breaths, feeling the faint air stream over my nose brush past my upper lip before gently disturbing the surrounding airframe. Breathing in and out repeatedly, the soft mattress gave rise to flickering white clouds of wind disturbance, one after another. The intense heat of summer lit up a patch of irregular light against the otherwise dimly lit skysmall as a pondand I closed my eyes to watch this unseen face under the moonlight. Breathing continued in rhythm, each inhalation and exhalation accompanied by the gentle movement of the surrounding air. White clouds seemed to dance above my head, creating a rainbow-colored canopy. The air grew cooler with each breath, and the mattress felt like having been iced with mint. The lens wobbled as I looked out, revealing cool water cascading down the mountains and distant choirs of pines. A sudden high-pitched screech broke through the stillness, followed by a series of progressively higher-pitched calls that seemed to echo upward in an escalating melody of summers heat.