I always wonder what my first episode being back would look like.I have tried doing this different times: be it in that visible change-in-season sultry afternoon of the last day of summer, or the feeling of fall with that chill in the air; be it in the room, parking lot, on my run, I find myself time and time again thinking back. But none felt like they did it justice.

There is something about creating. Not until I started the podcast did I realize the line from a writing that I really liked.The author was trying to capture his beloved school as a visiting scholar, but always felt a sense of uneasiness: fear in his incapability to capture the essence of the place; fear of not doing it justice.

Well, podcasting is instant, and it is dynamic. Unlike writing, you could not simply stop at a point and come back over and over again. It is a time stamp in history, forever captured. When you are recording an episode yourself, even with the same central idea, the episode yesterday could look different than the one you do today.

I think this is also what draws me in with podcasting. It is a conversation, a monologue, a time stamp in time.The senses and sensibilities, all captured, at the moment.It feels like a flow. It feels like an inspiration state, that feels higher and immensely opening to yourself.The sense of vast openness, stillness, focus, and flow is very hard to describe in words.

All the emotions, awe, wonder steep in, as I am surrounded by this place I always cherish dearly,The public garden, how I have seen and trod throughSpring, summer, fall, and winter,The stone bridges, the wooden deck,I have seen the tree branches with leaves bursting with the sense of green,I have seen the crab apples blooming vibrantly with that dear color of pink,I have picked up white tree stems from the ground after the rainstorm in the chill air,I have sat comfortably by the swan boat wooden deck bathed under the warm setting sun, ducks side by side greeting their way,I have laid under the lush green grasses with a sketchbook by my side,I have gone cloud gazing and befriended strangers, talking about philosophy and mindfulness,I have stumbled across fellow tree lovers investigating different trees,I have gained special friendship on that snowy day by the commons, then spent the whole day together treading, sharing stories, seeing cute dogs, ice hockey players, little birds by the snowy shrubs,I have stepped out with courage doing karaoke and gazing up at the wondrous willow tree and bridge on that sunny day,I have seen the tulips, roses, all sorts of flowers blooming in the garden,I have heard all different instruments performing - saxophones, erhu, guitar, more and more,I have witnessed many proposals, wedding pictures, gender reveals, picnics, proms, and special occasions around the common,I have also seen how beautiful at night the reflections of the sparkling city lights in the layering waves of the pond are.

I have absolutely cherished this very special place in my heart,And in dedication to this special fall afternoon,Feeling that urge to carry the kit to the sun-bathed lawn on the hillside of the public garden,With the stone bridge on my right, the beautiful vibrant fall colors of the trees,Colors standing out with shades of red, green, orange, yellow, all the in-betweens,Bathing under the warm setting sun,With the gentle soft crisp wind caressing the face,Glistening ripples setting in motion by the pond,A few geese picking seedlings from the lush green grasses,People sitting in pockets,And me,Sitting there,Soaking it all in,With such a sense of respect, awe, wonder,And fountains of inspiration,This is where the beginning of this season,Captured in all the fall fullness,Evanescent beauty,Stamped in time,The feelings,All in their oneness,Wrapped.And now it is from here,To the world.

Peace and love,HanglingOct 26, Sunday, 8:48 PM