Tuesday, June 2, 2009
Thursday, April 2, 2009
The night was dark.
Moon cakes, candlelights, the smell of melting wax from burning candles, lanterns. The laughter of children, voices of excitement walking in the dark. Children were carrying their lanterns of red, yellow, green, blue, and purple. The stars lit the night sky. That was my memory of the Mid-Autumn Festival in the late 70s.
Thirty years later, the very last village on the island of Singapore was gone. The city that replaced it was brightly lit by it own streetlights, the stars nowhere in sight—the dark night had disappeared.
Change is constant. I enjoy the changes of the past and present. It is a bittersweet experience, like the process of making the lanterns. It is a memory of the past, a product of the present, and a hope for the future.