The old wooden gate with black rings on both sides displays the typical Asian atmosphere. When I open the gate, I immediately smell the smoke of burning wood used to heat the house. The split firewood is stacked on the side wall of the house, enough for several winters. The front yard is covered in green fresh grass which turns into yellow dry grass as winter approaches. Some stones are imbedded in the grass like a bridge to the house from the gate. It was truly a view few other places can compete, and it’s a break from the concrete urban jungle I was used to in the cities.
A medium-sized pomegranate tree is planted in the corner of the yard, and its sweet sour fruits are picked and eaten. These fruits are some of the most delicious I’d ever had, and I still long for them every single day. As a child, I was always amazed how the tree bore the red delicious fruit every year. It was then I realized how food always tastes better when you grow them yourself.
Finally, there is a titanic rectangular building that seems simple in shape but complex in other aspects. The black tiled roof, in my opinion, is the most appealing strength of the house as those hundreds of tiles are engraved with delicate patterns, making the tiles bumpy and coarse. Under the roof, there is a tiny nest of swallows which symbolize peace and happiness in China. The morning at my grandparents’ house is welcomed everyday with the harmonic songs that the birds provide.
These fine details of the house always linger in my head, persuading me to visit my grandparents, as these memories are simply