Dancing with Lotuses in the Summer Heat
★Location: Mazhou Park, Jingjiang, Taizhou
We arrived at the Jingjiang City Government a bit early, and I'm not the type to sit down and play on my phone, so I dragged my colleague to the nearby Mazhou Park. Despite the scorching heat, we were greeted by a pond full of lotuses, making the sweaty, red-faced walk well worth it.
Though I've wandered through Mazhou Park more than once, this was truly my first time seeing the pond so brimming with lotuses. The sun was relentless, and neither of us had brought an umbrella, but we still had to walk the zigzag bridge—that was the only way to get up close to the lotuses. Look, even the lotus fairies weren’t afraid of the sun; why should we mere mortals worry?
To be honest, the lotus pond in Mazhou Park isn’t that large—just the usual size you’d find in most parks, and even smaller than Yong'an Green Park in Jiangyin. But for us, it was an unexpected delight. So we were all in high spirits, and no one suggested seeking shade under the trees. With such beautiful scenery before us, the heat was just a passing cloud.
The zigzag bridge wasn’t long, but we walked slowly, stopping at every lotus to greet her softly. Some were adorably naive, others gracefully poised, some elegantly upright, a few shy and reserved, others proud and upright, some brimming with spirit, and still others with heads slightly bowed. Each pose held a charm unique to the lotus.
The lotus is truly the darling of summer. While other flowers wilt and droop in the heat, they stand radiant and full of allure. The leaves pressed tightly together, almost covering the entire pond. The few gaps in between were probably cleared out deliberately by people.
July and August are when lotuses bloom most profusely. In this season, they appear in every possible posture—each flower has its own beauty, each one captivating. Many lotuses had already shed their petals, revealing emerald-green lotus pods that looked incredibly tempting. Some pods had probably been picked—those within arm’s reach were already gone. But there were still plenty of blossoms, popping up here and there among the big green disks.
The zigzag bridge sat at the center of the lotus pond. When we reached the middle of the bridge, we were right in the heart of the pond, surrounded by dense lotuses. The summer breeze was warm, but the faint fragrance of lotuses brought a hint of coolness, making us feel as if we had sprouted from the water ourselves—like a dream.
The famous writer Ye Shengtao once wrote in an essay, “I suddenly felt as if I were a lotus blossom, dressed in a snow-white gown, standing in the sunlight.” And I, too, felt like the pink lotus that was halfway in bloom, as if wearing a dancing skirt, twirling gracefully—never had I felt so light. Of course, I don't have the skills of lightness or much dance training, but at that moment, I was inexplicably confident, as if I could be the lightest dancer on the stage. And the pond full of lotuses were my dance partners—I was one of them.
Ye Shengtao wrote in his essay: “When the wind passed, I stopped dancing and stood quietly. A dragonfly flew over and told me the joy of flying in the morning. A little fish swam past my feet and told me the sweet dreams it had last night...” Perhaps we came too late; it was already noon, and we saw neither dragonflies nor butterflies, not even a single fish. At this midday hour, it seemed everyone was sound asleep, and only the lotuses and I were dancing together...
The jade pendants of the celestial terrace have aged, / The fairy on the waves remains unsullied. / Last year the bees were late to gather; / This year the butterflies have already come to neighbor.
