Cheerful

Dear Friend,

Shifen is a small town just forty minutes east of Taipei. It is nestled between the knolls of a gentle green valley and cradles within its old town a well-worn railroad track. It is a town crisscrossed by streets paved in speckled stone and lined with small stalls selling local bites. It is the type of town you would stumble upon en route to some grander destination, where you would inevitably fall in love with its charm, where you would end up staying far longer than you planned.

It is a lovely, cheerful town.

It is a town of narrow, winding alleys and well-loved alley cats. If you are lucky, you may see them frolicking in the wild grasses growing between the mossy sleepers, strutting surefooted down the rusted rails. It is a town with paths that loop and fold in on one another, such that you, a traveler, would certainly get lost, for you must live a lifetime within the town's walls to etch its map into your mind. And, as a traveler, you would surely be drawn to the main road that trails the tracks, at the old town's heart.

Oh! It is raining. The town is so magical in the rain.

At the busy crossroads where path and track joins as one, you would find a street lined with sky lantern shops. This is, after all, a town where tradition runs deep, where culture steeps into every aspect of life. Even under silver sheets of rain, you'll observe fellow travelers painting the faces of their colorful lanterns. I implore you to join them in the cheer of it all. Write down your desires in the language of your heart. Smudge your wishes and laugh as ink runs down the wet paper.

Hope is sung, and your voice would sound wonderful in the chorus.

Then bring your lantern out to the tracks, where the wind and rain will join their wishes with your own. Set its heart ablaze, and hold it, until smoke fills the lantern and breathes life into its paper shell. Then let it go. Watch, as it floats into the sky, tumbles in unseen currents, then rights itself and soars. You'll feel your heart leap as the lantern rises, past the pattering rooftops, beyond the chanting canopy, until it vanishes into the clouds.

Back, from the tracks and onto the paved road once more.

You'll find that several hours have passed, that you're wet and hungry and your hands are stained with ink. But you feel alive, unmistakably so, and your heart is full of cheer. You'll find a beauty in the town that escaped your eye when you first made your way through its streets. You'll take photos as you make your way out, lots of them, to try and catch every little detail. The dancing light on the tiles. The rain so light it falls like snow.

But the photos won't hold the same cheer remembered.

Forevermore, Eden