That was quite the collective experience, Beijing.
An hour ago, a dam in the sky broke. Rain turned into pellets of ice, the sound of its steady assault only interrupted by thunderclap that set off car alarms. One imagines Qu Yuan sitting somewhere with his feet propped up, enjoying the show.
As quickly as the storm came, it departed — but not before the sun shone out of a hole while the clouds were wrung dry. Now it is quiet, the singing of birds and rustling leaves beginning to fade amid the resumption of human activity, vehicles, construction.
The Netherlands play China in a football friendly at Workers’ Stadium at 8 pm. There’s a cooking class over at The Hutong, a circus at the Bird’s Nest, a celebration of Jacques Cousteau’s birthday at Cu Ju, and happy hours everywhere. I have a party to attend in Shuangjing, others have family dinners to share, bikes to ride, music to enjoy. Onward, everyone. The evening awaits.Powered by Wordpress Plugins - Get the full version!