The evening breeze strokes the courtyard gently, and the surface of the pond ripples with light like soft gold. The pink-and-white water lilies are like clouds immersed in cool water, their petal tips blushing with a rouge hue, timidly floating on the round, mirror-like lily pads — some half-closed, hiding the star-like dewdrops in their stamens; others fully unfolded, tinting the wind with softness.By the pond, the cattails hang down with slender spikes, and the fern fronds poking out from the cracks of the stones are coated with damp dew. Even the sound of the wind brushing the water’s surface is wrapped in the fresh, moist scent of aquatic plants. Light and shadow shatter into silver scales on the broken waves, and even the flower reflections in the water are steeped in a faint, lazy sweetness. This small pond is like a dream gently held by time, where even breathing slows down to the rhythm of the ripples.