Maybe we are all prospective migrants. The lines of national borders on maps are artificial constructs, as unnatural to us as they are to birds flying overhead. Our first impulse is to ignore them.

青竹 云海 晨光 星夜 荷风 晴雪 秋山 听海 沙丘 森语 梅影 花野 听雨 晴窗 暮色 橘光