Though typhoon signal no.3 was cancelled before setting off, I met no morning regulars at all on the way to the park. Apart from few broken branches and flower pastels scattering on the path, small streams of water running down to the lower ground accumulating small pools. Strong wind blew overturning my umbrella while I found that the battery of my camera was almost out of power. It was the first time ever I felt scar when gale wind blew together with stormy rain in the dead quiet park. I walked steadily reaching the long pavilion where was the nearest place providing shelter for me to paint. It was not a lonely place when the wind howled blowing dense drizzles toward me, fighting with the plastic when I laid the drawing kit on one of the damp benches. When I started to paint, feeling settled by, seeing bundles of brilliant hedges planted in the center of the round plant bed. And the fresh grasses surrounded the bundles echoing the hedges to become more colorful. But I had to make a pause to the painting unwillingly because the nasty woman kept walking in front me after the rain stopped.


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