Today's New Words
上主是我的牧者,我实在一无所缺 Shàng zhǔ shì wǒ de mù zhě, wǒ shízài yī wú suǒ quē Sunday's responsorial from Psalm 23. Literally, The Lord is my shepherd, I lack nothing really.
We've had some smoggy weeks that we mostly didn't mind too much because we were so occupied with The Bookworm Literary Festival. Once that was over, we were home all day, hoping the AQI would improve enough for us to get outside. Sunday, though, we couldn't want for better air quality or weather. After Mass we headed up to the Great Wall. Along the way, we were amazed at how suddenly our brown March landscapes are interrupted with the promise of April's colors. The white-flower trees are always first.
More after the jump
We make the comparison every year, about how the puffs of white against the dark hillsides look like sheep grazing. Since we are deep in Lent, we can't help but make this connection again. Yesteday was especially prime for thinking about sheep; today's Psalm was a memorable setting of Psalm 23. 上主是我的牧者, 我实在一无所缺.
Out in the mountains, we were once again in awe of the reappearance of the white flowers. We have watched it every year since we moved to Beijing, and yet it still hasn't been met by us with rapt delight and even surprise.
Seriously, it's like we were born just this winter, or suffer some sort of annual amnesia. However after months of persistent brownness (this Beijing winter we were seldom treated to any snow to hide it), can anyone blame us?
There at my favorite piece of Great Wall, we were simply in awe of how amazing a spring afternoon can be. Beijing is a little on the rain-starved side this year, so the dryness felt more like fall. But with the flowers and buds, and the green leaves trying to make their way out, and the balance between a hot sun and drink-of-water cool breezes that blew from the north, we were certain that it was, in fact, spring.
上主是我的牧者,我实在一无所缺. What more could we have wanted on a Sunday afternoon in late March?
We've had some smoggy weeks that we mostly didn't mind too much because we were so occupied with The Bookworm Literary Festival. Once that was over, we were home all day, hoping the AQI would improve enough for us to get outside. Sunday, though, we couldn't want for better air quality or weather. After Mass we headed up to the Great Wall. Along the way, we were amazed at how suddenly our brown March landscapes are interrupted with the promise of April's colors. The white-flower trees are always first.
More after the jump
We make the comparison every year, about how the puffs of white against the dark hillsides look like sheep grazing. Since we are deep in Lent, we can't help but make this connection again. Yesteday was especially prime for thinking about sheep; today's Psalm was a memorable setting of Psalm 23. 上主是我的牧者, 我实在一无所缺.
Out in the mountains, we were once again in awe of the reappearance of the white flowers. We have watched it every year since we moved to Beijing, and yet it still hasn't been met by us with rapt delight and even surprise.
Seriously, it's like we were born just this winter, or suffer some sort of annual amnesia. However after months of persistent brownness (this Beijing winter we were seldom treated to any snow to hide it), can anyone blame us?
There at my favorite piece of Great Wall, we were simply in awe of how amazing a spring afternoon can be. Beijing is a little on the rain-starved side this year, so the dryness felt more like fall. But with the flowers and buds, and the green leaves trying to make their way out, and the balance between a hot sun and drink-of-water cool breezes that blew from the north, we were certain that it was, in fact, spring.
上主是我的牧者,我实在一无所缺. What more could we have wanted on a Sunday afternoon in late March?
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