# The landscape that remains in the heart

By [Untitled](https://paragraph.com/@0x841f7e4f4c77d369f09b49587cd0bad1df5c7c75) · 2022-07-18

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The remaining unmelted snow of winter, the few lights scattered in the appendix, the endless night.

The posture of the young mother and child is projected on the glass of the window, and the night is illusory together, blurring the illusion of the passing twilight. The child sleeps peacefully, occasionally twitching his nose and arching toward his mother's arms. The mother stared out the window, her pupils like a deep dark night, her arms bent around her child.

When I think of my first trip to Beijing with my mother at the age of four, to a place so far away that I don't know how far it is, I only know that we went to my uncle's house to pick up my grandmother back in Chengdu. When my uncle received us, my grandmother said to my mother heartily, "You must be exhausted."

Mom, however, was not tired at all and happily told Grandma how I had behaved on the train, saying that I had asked several times along the way how long it would take to get there. At that time I was sleeping in my mother's arms, perhaps the shadow cast on the glass was seen by others and had evoked some memories!

Outside the glass, always a moving landscape, the landscape on the glass, belongs to the heart.

I was amazed by the wheat fields and houses that passed outside the train. I had never seen crops taller than mine, and my mother explained them one by one, giving me some new insights into the world.

The excitement and exhaustion of the road trip made me sleep peacefully in my mother's arms, while the scenery outside the window changed and the landscape in my heart was deeply engraved.

When I returned, I was still amazed at the white clouds in the distance that I pointed out on the plane, breaking my imagination that the clouds were rocks in the sky; the bumpy ride from the troposphere to the stratosphere made me finish my trembling admiration for the fear of death in a few seconds, grabbing my mother's hand and thinking, "I will protect you." My mother turned her hand back to me and comforted me without opening her mouth.

The whole joy of my first trip left a landscape in my heart, and seeing the vision on the window in the same place again was like a film evoking my memories of the sleeping child on the window growing up, and the young mother on the window no longer young.

The scenery on the window never grows old, no matter how many times the characters have changed, or whether the years have changed their appearance and posture, the viewer is still there.

Every time, when the scenery passes with time again, the scenery in my heart does not change, such as the deep mother, such as the peaceful sleeping child.

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*Originally published on [Untitled](https://paragraph.com/@0x841f7e4f4c77d369f09b49587cd0bad1df5c7c75/the-landscape-that-remains-in-the-heart)*
