终于等到落日把一切都染成金色的，沉甸甸的时刻。行走的人们被抽离出了一层模糊的轮廓。万事万物走到了一天的终点，纷纷要隐去它们本来的面容。从样貌，到形，到被归为大地的剪影。

湖水的波纹颤动着，被水面反射的光斑不断地拍打着树叶，它让树叶悸动，雀跃。

这是世界日复一日通过它独有的方式带给我们对于物的感知。

It was finally the moment when the setting sun coloured everything golden and heavy. The people walking were drawn out of a blurred outline. Everything came to the end of the day, and had to hide their original faces. From likeness, to form, to being relegated to the silhouette of the earth.

The ripples of the lake trembled, and the spots of light reflected by the surface of the water continued to beat against the leaves, and it made them throb and leap.

This is the perception of things that the world brings to us day after day in its own unique way.

我曾在散步的路上拍下了苔藓和树皮的照片。我用手指去触摸它们，但是指尖因为练习吉他长出了茧，所以已经丧失了对细微之物的触感。这是为了获得音乐表达所付出的“触感”的代价吗？

我想，也许对这个世界重复的“练习”，会不知不觉让我们丧失对这个世界原有的柔软和接纳。也许，内心要变得更加柔软，才能使这个世界的纹理嵌入灵魂。

I have taken pictures of moss and bark on my walks. I touched them with my fingers, but my fingertips are calloused from guitar practice, so I’ve lost my sense of touch for the smallest things. Is this the price of ‘touch’ for musical expression?

I think that perhaps the repetition of ‘practice’ with the world will unknowingly cause us to lose our original softness and acceptance of the world. Perhaps we need to become softer inside in order to embed the texture of the world into our souls.