
Ten Years, One Morning in Dali
Ten Years, One Morning in Dali The lake held its breath at first light. Frost settled on the shore, and there she was — seated at the edge of Erhai, in our tenth-anniversary photograph. A small figure inside a vast silver morning, unfazed by the chill. We had travelled a decade to reach this shore. Ten years ago I married my wife, moved to a country I had never lived in, and started learning what it means to build something that outlasts a mood. Standing beside a lake that has been here since before the Jin dynasty, I realised something I already knew: none of those ten years were a deviation. Every one of them was a road we both chose. ...




