Chapter 79
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Colin walked with me hand in hand, strolling along the mountain paths just like when we were kids.
He shared stories about skilled folk artists I had never heard of, talked about his different
interpretations
of watercolor paintings, and reminisced about the paths we walked together in our childhood.
Under the blue sky and bright sun, surrounded by picturesque scenery, we were like characters from a
painting.
In the park, there were tandem bicycles. Upon noticing my longing gaze, Colin rented one and took me
on
a ride, freely traversing the enchanting nature.
We coborated wholeheartedly, struggling to pedal for a long time until my legs were unbearably sore.
It
was only then we gave up andy down on the grass to rest.
Following that, we stumbled upon a narrow stream. Its water was a clear mirror, reflecting every grain
of
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sand at the bottom. Several rounded stones, some dark red and others pure white, discreetly divided
the
stream.
I naughtily took off my shoes, held them in my hands, and disturbed the rare tranquility. I watched as
the
slender fish swam between my toes.
While having fun, I refused to listen to Colin’s advice to get out of the water. I ran even deeper into the
stream, sshing water that wet the hems of his pants.
With a stern face, Colin lifted me out and threw me on his back. He cupped my feet in his hands, wiping
away the cool water droplets. He said that autumn water in the north was freezing, and girls were prone
to getting sick from the chill.
Then, he carried me on his back, walking a long, long way. He kept talking about the scenery here, the
disparity between fantasy and reality, and the original aspirations a sessful artist should have.
Colin’s voice was rather pleasant, like a radio announcer telling a story. Iy on his back, quietly
listening
to him and feeling that time was peacefully still. His broad back was my entire world at that moment.
This way
This was a secluded paradise, far from the hustle and bustle of the world. It maintained the most
primitive ecological environment, where the maple leaves were like mes,
r uponyer. With
exquisite mountain peaks and winding roads like an art gallery, every inch of thendscape was
stunning.
As the scenery continued to unfold, I suddenly felt an urge to return to simplicity and go beyond the
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mundane. If possible, I wanted to stay here forever, merging with these mountains, water, maples, and
stones.
Perhaps due to Colin’sforting words earlier, my heart unexpectedly found peace in mother nature
apanied by countless strangers.
“Colin, this ce is so beautiful. How did you discover it?”
“You think this is beautiful? There’s a better ce ahead. Want to go and see?” Colin’s voice was
deep and melodious like a cello.
When the car stopped in front of a small vige, I was once again amazed. If I hadn’t seen it with my
own eyes, I wouldn’t have thought that such a magnificent scene existed in this world.
If what I saw just now was a fairnd on earth, whaty before my eyes now was one from a painted
scroll.
“Colin, where is this? It’s even more beautiful than a painting.” I eximed in delight.
“This is Western Loch Vige, also known as the Painter’s Haven.”
“Painter’s Haven? Do painters live here?”
“No. It’s the beauty of this ce that attracts painters and artists alike toe here for inspiration.
Many of them live in this vige now. Unfortunately, no matter how wonderful their brushes are, they’re
unable to paint theplete beauty of these peculiar mountains and clear waters. Nature’s splendor
can’t be expressed with a few strokes. That’s why I brought you here to see it for yourself–to imprint it
in your mind. Maybe someday, it will give you inspiration.”
As I stared nkly at everything in front of me, I felt an itch in my hands. “Do you want to paint? Let’s
eat first. We’ll paint the sunsetter.”