Every morning when I wake up, I naturally look out the window with a heart full of joy. The sky is just beginning to break at dawn — another beautiful day has arrived! What is truly precious is not having a high-paying job in the city, but being able to wear a radiant smile here, in this countryside.
Walking through the fields, the air is filled with the sweet scent of ripened rice. A gentle breeze brushes past, making the strings of Monica's harmonica in my pocket play softly with the wind. The sunlight spreads across the land, awakening everything that was asleep. People hurriedly pack up their gear and rush toward the farmlands.
Ah, what a scene — sweat dripping onto the soil beneath the crops! The sound of the harmonica disperses the dullness of labor, blending with the rustic melodies of the countryside. Everyone sings cheerful folk songs together, their voices echoing along the field paths. Moved by the moment, I take Monica from my pocket, playing it softly as I walk alone down this country lane. A smile forms naturally on my face as I stroll gently toward the bamboo grove. From a distance, I can see a small pond between the bamboo trees. Sunlight filters through the leaves, making the pond shimmer with a quiet, solitary beauty.
I walk closer — inside, a few tiny fish swim leisurely in the clear water. How peaceful it is! Their playful dance stirs ripples across the surface — so free, so unrestrained. Who wouldn't long to live like that?
Slowly, I put the harmonica back into my pocket, but the wind seems unwilling to let it rest. So I take it out again and begin to play softly. The sound awakens the bamboo grove, making the leaves sway and dance. The melody drifts through the fields, crosses the gentle stream, and finally returns to my own ears. The heaviness of past years fades away — the grievances I once endured in the city dissolve with the breeze. Perhaps this is what true freedom feels like.
Though it might seem unremarkable to others, I prefer this rare simplicity of rural life over the city's constant rush. I place the harmonica beside me and quietly enjoy this moment of tranquility — a serenity born from freedom itself.