On a calm autumn day, father and daughter ride bicycles to the edge of a small lake. The father leaned his bicycle against the tree, hugged his daughter, and rowed a boat to the center of the lake by himself.
As dusk fell, the boat was gone, and there was no trace. The daughter, who was waiting on the shore, rode back. From then on, she rides to the lake every day to wait for her father, day after day, year after year, rain or shine. In the silent world, there is only the background music of the accordion fast three rhythm, the light and heavy of the wind and sunshine. Autumn colors are flourishing. On the bicycle, she changed from a little girl to a young girl, a young woman, and a hunchbacked old woman.
That day, the old woman came to the lake as usual. She bent over and supported the bicycle, which was no longer stable, over and over again. At this time, the lake has turned into a tidal flat. She walked to the boat sleeping at the bottom of the lake, and lay down slowly on the silt and sand, in a crouching position, as if sleeping in her father's warm arms. However, it seemed that someone gently woke her up, she stood up, the sky and the earth were clear, and in the same clear dream, she returned to the appearance of a little daughter, and slowly walked towards her father who never grew old.
Small film, understatement from beginning to end, however, this is our life full of waiting. If there is no eternity, what we maintain while waiting will always be the light source of that first love.
Less is more. Yes, less is more, shallow is deep. The more straightforward it is, the more inspiring it is; the more unintentional it is to lyric and whine, the more deeply touching it is.
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