The Child I Once Was

When the plane landed once again at Heathrow Airport, to be honest, I was still a bit excited, but in front of the children, I had to appear calm and rational. After a long journey with multiple transfers, as our pickup car drove out of the parking lot, it felt like seeing the light of day again. Light clouds hung faintly on the horizon; turning my head, I looked at the children sitting quietly in their seats, and my heart gradually settled.

Not long into the drive, the car became lively. Just as we passed a small town, dusk was falling, and then we turned onto a country lane. I was suddenly moved by the scenery before me—I couldn't say what was so special, but it was simply refreshing and beyond words. The next half month—if you call it a trip, it's not purely tourism; if you call it work, it is also a journey of memories after years away. But now that I'm back, I am no longer the child I once was. Perhaps it is a challenge, but at this moment, I am immersed in this rural dusk lane...