I thought of the sound of thunder and rain in my home village. The violent rumbling thunder claps echoed from valley to valley. It seemed as if spring shoots were shaken, awakened and broke out slender green from the frozen earth. The sound of the rain as soft and thin as grass fondled them with gentle hands, making them shoot up in clusters of glossy dark green branches that waved their blossoming red flowers. This feeling of nostalgia hovered about me, making me feel melancholy in my heart. The weather in my heart felt just like the immense land in the north that was also lack rain. A soft tear drop hesitated before falling from my dull and heavy eyes just like the rain paused in the gloomy sky.

The white ducks looked a bit agitated, for their anxious cries came from ditches in the city which had become contaminated and changed colour. Some were not weary, paddling slowly along like boats; others were putting their long necks into water, stretching their red webbed toes behind and constantly stroking the water to keep their bodies balanced.