My ‘personal’ University of Melbourne

It’s autumn in Melbourne in the Southern Hemisphere in May. The golden leaves fall slowly from the trees like butterflies, scattered on both sides of the road. Probably because of the epidemic, the campus is surprisingly quiet. I gently stepped across the fallen leaves, accompanied by the sound of footsteps, leaving deep and shallow footprints.

Follow the road and cross the trails, and you will be at the racecourse. That, where I used to stop. I love the small raised hills there, so you can overlook the campus as well as the blue sky. At this time, all kinds of emotions are suddenly relieved. A restless heart calmed down.

Sit down slowly, gazing at the grassy racecourse, meditating. Once, thousands of horses galloped and the dust was flying here. The galloping horse hooves hit the ground; the glued scores hit people’s hearts directly.

Now, all this is quiet. Only the breeze was left, and the warbler sound mildly. In the distance, a few pigeons are walking towards me. The pigeons here are never afraid of people. No matter when, they are so carefree and “cooing” happily. Their singing adds a touch of holiness and peace to this quiet campus.

Time slipped away quietly, and the warm sunshine slowly moved away with the breeze. As the sun sets, the sky seems to be smeared with a layer of orange paint. A beautiful and soft silk ribbon floats in the air.

Going down the hill and passing through the ancient corridor of wind and rain, I seem to have traveled to the time more than 100 years ago. The saints dressed in holy robes, holding the heavy Bible “New Testament”, strolled by twos and threes. Several gray-haired professors gathered around the lawn, waving the parchment in their hands, and debating fiercely around a certain topic. A student glanced at the pocket watch in his hand, probably because he was about to be late, and ran in a hurry. But the long robe restricted his running speed. So, he rolled up a corner of his robe and ran again.

 

The old clock tower appeared before my eyes. The brownish-yellow appearance, combined with the scarred wall tiles, gave rise to a sense of dignity in history. I caressed the rough wall tiles, feeling the vicissitudes of history.

It’s five o’clock. The bell rang. The ancient dull bell, accompanied by five heavy beatings, resounded over the campus. The frightened birds fluttered their wings one after another, flapping their wings in groups to fly in the blue sky.

The afterglow of the setting sun spreads on the South Lawn, putting a golden coat on this noisy grassland. That touch of golden, beautiful and moving. This situation and situation made me suddenly think of Master Hong Yi’s “Farewell” song:
Outside the farewell pavilion meanders an ancient road,

Into the horizon lush grass has sowed.

amidst the even breeze and fading flutes dance the willows,

while the setting sun drops below the sea of hills.

…………

I hummed softly. Unconsciously, my eyes have been moist. But I understand that I will keep walking, walking in that one person’s University of Melbourne.

——Written in Melbourne during the COVID-19

 

(Note: all pictures are took by authors via phone)