◆ Yifu
It has been more than 20 years since I moved to live on the shore of the old Nakagawa. On both sides of the old Nakagawa, there are rows of cherry blossoms and dense reeds. The river is not wide, but the water is crystal clear. The green aquatic plants swaying in it, the tail tail fish shuttling through Hanoi, and the hustle and bustle of Tokyo everywhere, show a rare leisurely and leisurely.
I've always had the habit of running along the west bank of the river every day, with few interruptions except in extreme weather or when I'm unwell. For more than 20 years, I know almost all the details of the less than three-kilometre stretch of the old Nakagawa: when the flower cart from the flower shop on the west bank will be loaded with flowers and drive over the pale blue iron bridge; When will the kindergarten children walk hand in hand into a nearby park under the guidance of their teachers? Even the fat mallards sometimes hovered and flew in the air, and sometimes paced leisurely in the grass...... Walking along the riverside, I can't help but feel a trace of happiness in the countryside and enjoying nature, and my mood suddenly becomes sudden.
But I know of course that this is just a façade, and that this seemingly calm river in all seasons has a discordant side: every year when the weather starts to warm up, there is always a time when a layer of dead fish somehow floats on the surface of the river; On the embankment, from time to time, you can see the remains of pigeons that have been eaten by unknown animals and are only skeletons and feathers; A cherry blossom tree by the river, for no apparent reason, withered year by year, and finally died completely in one spring...... These natural secrets, which take place in the dark of night and in the long past, are like human birth, old age, sickness and death, which are an inseparable part of this endless river, and do not arouse my curiosity to explore the causes. But over the years, a bird that I had only heard but had not seen until now became the mystery of the old Nakagawa that I had become more and more obsessed with.
Every year around the beginning of May, when the hustle and bustle of the season brought by the cherry blossoms along the coast finally settles and the old Nakagawa River regains its daily tranquility, the mysterious bird will appear as promised. It is said to be a presence, but to me, it is really just a "presence". Because until now, I've never seen it before. Every May, when I hear the familiar birdsong for the first time, there is always an inexplicable cordiality and excitement in my heart, just like hearing a long-awaited greeting from an old friend.
The kind of bird whose name I did not know and who I did not meet until now, had a very recognizable and good voice, crisp, tactful, rich in tones and rhythms, almost like an emotional rap poet. I walked less than three kilometres along the dark red paved road, with reeds growing at the water's edge on one side and cherry trees blooming on the embankment on the other. What has puzzled me for a long time is that the scenery of this stretch of river is almost the same, but the place where the birds hang out is fixed at a bend in the river, and it never changes from year to year. I don't know if it's the birds' home for their migratory habitat or if there's some secret in the area that makes them fall in love with it, but the perseverance itself is something that moves me, a prone conformist. Most of the time the birds hide in the dense reeds, and occasionally hide in the leafy cherry trees, singing passionately or whispering in a calm tone. Whenever a passerby passes by, they immediately become silent, waiting for passers-by to go away before resuming their energetic rap performances. Their cries are instantly recognizable compared to those of other birds, but they are almost indistinguishable from each other, making it impossible for me to even tell if these rich raps come from a single bird or a group of birds singing in harmony. Many times as I passed through this bay, I stopped in place to see what this mysterious bird was. But the results of each of my attempts were in vain, without exception. The birds, hidden among the reeds or leaves, did not make a sound from beginning to end, let alone give me a glimpse of their dignity. It was as if they were testing my patience, and as long as I waited with bated breath, they remained silent for as long as I spoke. It was as if I could see one or more pairs of sly eyes, watching me stand somewhere in the reeds, their eyes full of teasing and even mockery. As soon as I left disappointed, the birdsong behind me, which always filled me with curiosity and inquiry, immediately came back crisply and tactfully......
I have lived on the banks of the old Nakagawa River for more than 20 years, and I have never had the privilege of seeing a bird with a very recognizable cry. But as time passed, the eagerness I felt like searching for the answer to a mystery gradually turned into a tacit understanding and calmness. It was the season for the mysterious birds to live in the old Nakagawa, and every day I went for a walk on the shore, I could hear their warm, cheerful, and rhythmic singing, but I didn't have the curiosity to find out. As I walked past the reeds, I felt guilty for the abrupt silence and silence of the birds. I always quicken my pace through here, and only let out a long breath when the bird's cry is behind me again.
The birds spend more than two months a year in the old Nakagawa. I suspect that they can't just sing so carefree, but they will inevitably lay eggs and hatch and give birth to offspring like other birds, and they will have to face all kinds of hardships and adventures to survive. And the distance and vigilance they maintain from me may be the nature of the long evolutionary process. Not only was I relieved to think about it, but I was also deeply moved by the possibility that this mysterious bird could maintain such a bard-like mindset after the trials and tribulations of its ancestors.
Yesterday afternoon, I went for a walk on the shore of the old Nakagawa River as usual, and when I passed by the reeds that inhabited the "Shadowless Sacred Bird" that I later named, the sound of the birds that had been babbling just now came to an abrupt end as usual. As I walked through quickly, I saw a bird in the reeds shoot out like an arrow and fly into the dense foliage of the row of cherry trees on the other side of the road. It was so fast that it flickered in front of me like a dark shadow, and I had no time to see its dignity...... When the birds behind me began to sing again, my heart was full of emotion for the first time: could it be that this kind of bird, which had always made me curious, finally established a rare trust after so many years of meeting me like water?
Although the bird I didn't see clearly may not be a "shadowless bird", and even if it was, I was moved purely by myself. But at that moment, I was moved by a real ......