长满

The pond was encircled with trees.

In a sunny spot stood a pleasant old farm-house close by a deep river, and from the house down to the water side grew great burdock leaves, so high, that under the tallest of them a little child could stand upright. The spot was as wild as the centre of a thick wood. In this snug retreat sat a duck on her nest, watching for her young brood to hatch; she was beginning to get tired of her task, for the little ones were a long time coming out of their shells, and she seldom had any visitors.

I tripped in the alleyway in the darkness, as I crashed my knees on the asphalt. There was a wooden board that covered a wire between houses across the alleyway. It was very dark there at night. My eyeglasses fell off my face. Luckily, a Cantonese labourer with a flashlight helped me. My knees just got scraped. I remember another time when I crashed on my knees. It was at Don José Heights in Quezon City in the Philippines. There was a vastness of Martianesque red soil, wherein the "talahib" grass grew. Sometimes, workers intentionally set the grass on fire. My brother and I were still playing, even then, outside. We were still prepubescent. Near burning grass, I stumbled on my knees. My grandmother, Lola Bebe, was so angry. A maid washed my legs in the big tiled sink behind the garage.