At the end of March, the spring breeze has lost its chill, becoming soft and lingering. Slender West Lake at this moment resembles a beautiful woman just waking, its languid beauty tinged with a touch of bright vitality.
Climbing a pleasure boat, we drift gently along the emerald waters. The lake's surface is naturally thinner than in summer, yet its pure and graceful beauty is even more apparent. The weeping willows on both banks are already shrouded in emerald mist, their delicate branches a thousand feet tall, dipping into the spring water, composing lines of green poetry. The Five Pavilion Bridge stretches like a jade belt, the White Pagoda stands still, their reflections gently shattered in the water, then reunited again, like a never-ending game.
Most moving of all is the expected arrival of flowers. The crabapple blossoms are in full bloom, their pink and white petals cascading like clouds. The occasional breeze brings a gentle shower of blossoms, quietly falling on clothes and hair. Bauhinia and magnolia, unwilling to be left out, dot the pavilions and towers, adding a touch of rich color.
Walking slowly ashore, the long embankment, adorned with spring willows, transforms with every step. While lacking the grandeur of summer's towering lotus leaves, it possesses its own sparse, delicate charm. The Twenty-Four Bridges remain, silently recounting a millennium of romance. Imagine the evanescent sound of a flute on a moonlit night—what a pure and profound artistic conception that would be.
Shou Xihu in March lacks the bustle of midsummer, nor the bleakness of winter. Its beauty is perfectly balanced, like a poem in meticulous calligraphy, delicate and elegant. All the gentleness and leisure of spring are embodied in this winding stream and the shadows of flowers and willows on both sides.