Since immigrating to Canada, I have been living near Fisherman's Wharf in Richmond, Vancouver.

Today is Sunday, and in the early morning, I stroll at Fisherman's Wharf, feeling the tranquility of this October morning and the sea breeze. The symphony of nature plays in my ears under the conductor of God, with the calls of seabirds, the whistling sea wind, and the echoes of foghorns, sometimes resonating together, sometimes soloing, opening the prelude to Sunday...

Fisherman's Wharf, located at the northwest corner of Vancouver, is a tranquil and beautiful tourist spot. Here, the charm of October unfolds in the unique orange-red of the cherry blossom trees, transitioning from the pink of spring to the lush green of summer, and in late autumn, it vividly presents various shades of red, as if an artist is at work, layering oil paint on the canvas. The fishing boats docked at Fisherman's Wharf, adorned with colorful flags and national flags, flutter in the breeze, while the waters near the monument at the cape change from summer's clear blue to a deep green, the sea is a vibrant canvas, transforming with the colors refracted by the spectrum, reminding me that time flies, seasons cycle, and I must wholeheartedly experience every moment of 'being present', allowing them to become beautiful moments in life to look back on in the 'future'.

Every day, I enjoy coming here around sunrise. On clear days, the floating clouds on the eastern horizon are lined with golden edges, and although the sun does not rise directly from the sea, this does not hinder the morning light from deconstructing the sea and river surfaces into countless reflective panels, presenting the water connecting the river and sea with a unique beauty.

The beauty of Fisherman's Wharf is not limited to the morning; different times of the day offer different scenery. Entering October means entering Vancouver's rainy season, and it is not uncommon for it to rain continuously for half a month. Once the sun shines, in the morning after the sun has fully risen, the sky above Fisherman's Wharf is filled with rolling white clouds, and the deep blue sky magically turns the sea into a deep green like jade. Whenever large ships weighing hundreds of thousands or millions of tons set sail, the sea rolls and crashes against the shore, accompanied by the sound of waves, while some driftwood that has been lost in the river for who knows how long is washed ashore, like a prodigal son, wet all over as it returns to land, continuing to gaze longingly at the sea, yearning for a huge wave to pull it back into the ocean, allowing it to return to the vast and unknown, writing its destiny in free wandering and adventure.

The splashes of waves intertwine with falling flowers and flowing water, quietly disappearing into the sea, just like the thousands of changing leaves in October, falling in the autumn wind that grows colder day by day, quietly lying under the trees, eventually turning into the nutrients of the soil.

This scene makes me sigh, reflecting on the joys and sorrows of life, which are merely a game of beginnings and endings, riding the waves and listening to the tides, a cycle of growth and decay each year.

Almost every day, I go to Fisherman's Wharf, immersed in the picturesque scenery, which is God's infinite favor and preference for me. October in Vancouver is the most beautiful season of this city, and Fisherman's Wharf, with its rich seafood, has become the most popular spot for tourists this season. Today, visitors are here, spending a weekend relaxing with friends and family, while I, on this Sunday, find another colorful inner landscape.

Marcel Proust once said, "True discovery is not in finding new lands, but in seeing with new eyes."

As I stroll at Fisherman's Wharf, I comprehend the true meaning of this sentence. Each walk allows me to observe the world with my eyes and my heart, communicating with my soul in the most subtle way, telling the incredible stories of humanity happening in this world with a new perspective.

This sentence also makes me realize the concept of "hedonic adaptation." Experiencing the unity of heaven and man, being at peace with the present, unaffected by joy and sorrow, and allowing the body, mind, and spirit to dance lightly.

Travel can help one regain the innocence of the heart; Fisherman's Wharf is not only my physical residence but also my spiritual sanctuary. Gazing at the sea level and looking towards the horizon, that part of me that retains a pure heart yet is renewed every day seems to be stepping along the skyline, and that happiness of harmony and balance of body, mind, and spirit fills each of my cloud-walking moments with gratitude for all things in heaven and earth.

In October at Fisherman's Wharf in Vancouver, filled with spiritually fruitful offerings, I cultivate my heart and practice my skills here, re-examining the good and evil of humanity and contemplating the meaning of life. In this October, I seem to have found it: to interact with myself in a loving way and to continue to love this world with confidence.