When I Met Monet
I unfold my linen sheet under a tree on the grassland, and lie down to continue a book about Claude Monet, the world-famous French Impressionist painter.
It is noontime. The sun is shining high in the sky, some breeze rises now and then to blow away the heat and cool down my body. I feel very relaxed, so I put the book under my head as a pillow and close my eyes.
I hear a man calling my name. I get up lazily and look around curiously. A man wearing a blue linen shirt and khaki shorts, with a big white long beard is waving at me and instructing me to follow him. Who is he? Why does he look so familiar to me? I wonder. In a flash I realize who he is—Monet. He looks exactly like the picture I just saw from my book. My heart starts to beat fiercely.
We walk along a small path, both sides of which are shaded by trees. Soon we enter a garden surrounded by a lot of trees and flowers. Even though it is a hot day of early Summer, this garden is quite pleasant to walk in. The trees and flowers’ names are unknown to me, but they all smell wonderful, and are spreading their branches leisurely in an elegant way, as if they are fashion models posing themselves on the runway.
Then we walk into an open place, a pond laying in front of us. “Oh, the water lily pond!” I almost cry out. I have seen it so many times from the pictures of his most famous painting. The pink lilies are floating on the water, some are fully open, some only opening halfway, and some are just little buds. The water reflects sunlight, rippled by the breeze, mixing with the breath of the water lilies. it is showing us a Summer dream: youthful, sparkling, and unrealistic.
Monet leads me to a cute green colored bridge; I know it is his famous Japanese Bridge. We stand for a while at the bridge and he shows me the view around. He loves the willow trees, the lilies, all of which remind him of the exotic Orient. He tells me that he is always confused by lotus flowers and water lilies. He thinks because my name is Lotus that I must know their differences. I show him a photo of my lotus painting on my phone and explain ”The water lily floats on the surface of water, its petals are smaller and pointy; while lotus stands out of the water with a long stem, and its petals are bigger, wider in a spoon shape.” Monet shows a great interest in my lotus painting; he examines it carefully and tells me that one day he will build a lotus pond and plant some lotus in it—So he can paint lotus as well.
We cross the bridge and sit on two flat rocks under a willow tree. We are facing the lily pond. Summer breeze sweeps across the pond, a trembling sheen to rise above the water. The lilies’ fragrance is very haunting under the hot sun; breathing it in and out, we feel we are completely refreshed. And what’s more, I am with my super idol. I feel I have a lot of questions to ask but I just can’t open my mouth. Maybe this moment is too precious to think about anything else. Suddenly a frog jumps at me from the water and startles me. I awake.
I open my eyes; the sun still shines hotly ov er my head. It takes me a while to fully understand what the situation is—I just had a good dream. I check my watch, only a half hour’s doze. I stare at the sky: Some white cotton-like clouds are wandering there, and the shadows from a tree are dancing on my face. It’s a bright world, everything is glistening around me, only I feel so lost. I wish I could go back to my dream, stay with that greatest master, as well as that dreamy lily pond.
I hate that frog!
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