It always looks like this for a couple of days.
When Lunar New Year passes, at the beginning of spring, the mountains are enveloped in the sea of white. Muted whiteness framed in windows, flowers in mist, trees in mist, all lives were shrouded in the mountain haze. I opened my hands amidst, looking at the air in my palms – in my loose grasp, it slipped away.
“So clean the earth in the expanse of white”, it reminded me of the last line in Dream of the Red Chamber.
In still wind and air, everything was frozen in the haze, perhaps time as well. I was the only one on the move, perhaps. Walking in the mist, I saw it but could not grasp it. If I couldn’t hold it in my hands, could it stay on my face for a moment? I pondered how it felt when being hugged by the mountain mist naked.
No trace of dampness on my clothes, yet my hair was soaked. I thought I walked through it without a trace. Every strand of my hair however gathered it all along the way, bit by bit, drip by drip, welled up, undispersed. I had haze hidden in the hair. Perhaps when my black hair turns grey one day, it falls better into oblivion amidst.
幼素麵 1 束 / 50克
無糖日本豆乳 1 杯
鰹魚汁醬油 1.5 茶匙
雞蛋 1 隻
本菇 10 克
水 5 杯，另加煮素麵用的水
Somen in Soy Milk Soup
Thin somen 1 bunch / 50g
Unsweetened Japanese soy milk 1 cup
Bonito sauce 1.5 teaspoon
Egg 1 piece
Shiitake mushroom 10 g
Sea salt A pinch
Water 5 cups, plus more for cooking somen
Vegetable oil A drizzle
It’s raining outside, crisp and bleak. Three chubby sparrows took shelter on my balcony and I gave them the baguette bits left on my breakfast plate but they flew away. I stayed in, played Damien Rice on vinyl and made apple crumble. Repeat.