Stories can start with thousand kinds of beginning, how can I hold the pen to write this one? I close my eyes trying to catch the hazy dream. Last night, I turned to a mew flying over the sea, flying through my dream.
Harry Potter starts my interests in the old castles. Scotland—the wonderland. The songs of step dance bring me to the Ireland—a place love lasts forever. The London Eye, double decked buses, prosperous---London. But there left one place. I unfold it with all my care, Wales.
My first time to hear this name , I was reading a introduction of Diana. The fairy made the world a better place, who touched the hands of those who the rest of the world had shunned. She has another name---Princess of Wales. From then on, Wales, together with the imagine of the fairy Princess impressed on my heart.
Yes, I have never been Wales before, it’s true. But there is also a picture in my heart: a young girl with golden hair and blue eyes wears a chaplet sitting on the grassland. The smell of flowers flows in the air.
If London is as brilliant as a diamond, then Wales must be the backyard of the whole Kingdom. As fresh as any novel of Jane Austin.
When I was younger, I drew a picture of my ideal university. An old campus with over 100 years history. As graceful as an old gentleman, together with the century old trees in a quiet town. There are the advanced education of course. But there are also old narrow streets and friendly villagers always wear smiles. Now , that’s my imagination about Wales.
The dense morning fog fades away. Sunny, spring, Wales.
|