Layers of steps were hidden between the trees, leading to a bridge. I should go through the trees and wait for bus on the bridge. My father sent me to the bridge. Then I carried bags out of the car to go on the steps to wait for the bus. Lop wickers drifting in the wind, I went through the screen-like wickers that hided my figure, mounted the steps. I set foot on the layers step by step, unavoidably halting for the heavy bags. I stepped to the top, the bus station was opposite. I was going through the road to wait for the bus. I glanced around, the traffic flowing. I had a casual glance, then a red dot entered my line of sight, which was slightly familiar. I turned to it and unexpectedly found that was my father’s helmet. I was shocked that father had been silently gazing me after behind my back. Through the trees I saw his vague figure. It turned out that he had been gazing me after when I was going on a long journey. That gazing gently touched the soft corner in my heart.
When the vehicle was less, I walked through the road to the bus station. However, it had been lingering in my head that my father was silently gazing me after. Probably more than once, he gazed me after like this, but I hadn’t found it in the past. We went far away for dream, but even hardly took notice of parents’ gazing following us behind us. Such a father remind me of a note by Yingtai Long: “What are called parents and children just means that your and his fate is to share the rest of my life constantly watching his back away……And he silently tells you with his back not to catch up."