So this was a traditional Mid-Autumn Moon festival!
Silvery shadows, soft grass and circles of families in the park under the bright white moon.
Happy children lighting candles. Merry lanterns swaying from trees, their warm golden flames flickering against the night sky.
Slapping waves against sea walls, bamboo flutes playing, poetry readings. Raised chins, closed eyes, moving lips of people sending silent wishes up, up, up to who knows where.
"Does Chang'e grant them all?" asked Collector Wong's son.
His two children were wrapped up tightly as sausage rolls.
"Maybe," said Wong Tai. "So tell her your secrets too."
Besides mooncakes, on the tablecloth, were pomelos, grapes and Asian pears. Moony could smell the freshly baked steamed buns from Collector Chan's patch a little further down the bank, and the melting wax of the candle forest the children were planting together.
Moony imagined secrets floating along the silvery path of moonlight that lit up the sea. The water was as smooth as icing, the breeze as soft as sponge.
How I wish all my friends were here, he thought.
Thank you, fair weather dragon, for clearing the sky.
"Time for mooncakes!" said Gong Gong, and Po Po lifted a cake right next door.
Warm eggy breaths filled the cool air. Moony saw sweet lotus paste on tongues, salty yellow yokes on teeth.
"More!" cried the children.
|< Prev||Next >|