“It’s 87F outside.” Em’s husband warned her as she was putting on her dance T-shirt.
“Our enthusiasm is hotter.” Em blurted out and stepped outdoors into the lingering heat waves. It was almost six pm. The ground was still sizzling. But compared with the humid 106F in her hometown back in China, this is a paradise.
The parking lot was fully packed. The well-planned great park is magnetic to city dwellers, reminding people of Central Park in New York. Surrounded by new facilities, such as football fields, a sand volleyball court, an ice rink, a sports stadium and the lawns here and there, the park is like a retreat for people to flock in the weekends and nights, for events, entertainments, exercises or just a stroll.
Parked her car a bit far away, Em brisked up her steps and cut cross the green meadow flanked by towering palm trees. The otherwise mostly empty central court was today occupied by large tents hung with colorful ribbons cascading down from the top. Drifting in the air was the merry Indian music. Men and women, young and old, dressed up in their flamboyant traditional gowns, thronged the tent inside. An Indian wedding was taking place.
Em joined the team and began her newly learnt dance—Galloping Horse. But soon the dance music was drowned out by the loud Indian music, mixed intermittently with DJ’s voices from the speaker.
By the time the dance was resumed in the back court, next to ta barn and the merry-go-round, the night was falling. While the west sky was still bathed in the late sunlight, the sky on the east started being painted with pink, orange and blue colors, in layers at the bottom but its hues suffusing all over. It was against such a backdrop that Em and her team danced. She danced, as if on a stage, her eyes glancing at the dimming background as the sky darkened.
But the street lights shone on.
It was until 8:30 pm when they called it a day. The heat was abated. The air was balmy. The night wind permeated Em’s body and soul. Looking up, Em saw the huge iconic orange balloon floating in the half sky, beaming in the dark its warm orange glows that silently beckoned Em a good-night as she walked towards the parking lot.
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“It’s 87F outside.” Em’s husband warned her as she was putting on her dance T-shirt.
“Our enthusiasm is hotter.” Em blurted out and stepped outdoors into the lingering heat waves. It was almost six pm. The ground was still sizzling. But compared with the humid 106F in her hometown back in China, this is a paradise.
The parking lot was fully packed. The well-planned great park is magnetic to city dwellers, reminding people of Central Park in New York. Surrounded by new facilities, such as football fields, a sand volleyball court, an ice rink, a sports stadium and the lawns here and there, the park is like a retreat for people to flock in the weekends and nights, for events, entertainments, exercises or just a stroll.
Parked her car a bit far away, Em brisked up her steps and cut cross the green meadow flanked by towering palm trees. The otherwise mostly empty central court was today occupied by large tents hung with colorful ribbons cascading down from the top. Drifting in the air was the merry Indian music. Men and women, young and old, dressed up in their flamboyant traditional gowns, thronged the tent inside. An Indian wedding was taking place.
Em joined the team and began her newly learnt dance—Galloping Horse. But soon the dance music was drowned out by the loud Indian music, mixed intermittently with DJ’s voices from the speaker.
By the time the dance was resumed in the back court, next to ta barn and the merry-go-round, the night was falling. While the west sky was still bathed in the late sunlight, the sky on the east started being painted with pink, orange and blue colors, in layers at the bottom but its hues suffusing all over. It was against such a backdrop that Em and her team danced. She danced, as if on a stage, her eyes glancing at the dimming background as the sky darkened.
But the street lights shone on.
It was until 8:30 pm when they called it a day. The heat was abated. The air was balmy. The night wind permeated Em’s body and soul. Looking up, Em saw the huge iconic orange balloon floating in the half sky, beaming in the dark its warm orange glows that silently beckoned Em a good-night as she walked towards the parking lot.
