Exploring the world and cultivating curiosity about the land often begins in a park, or an unnamed patch of grass or woodland. As a child growing up in Nanjing, I loved collecting stones and digging for “treasure,” though I never knew what I was searching for. Stones, dull and unremarkable, blend into the urban landscape, unnoticed and silent.  The first time I found stones beautiful was at a Nanjing park, where vendors sold Yuhua stones in small white plastic bowls, submerged just enough to enhance their colors. These stones, a type of agate, form from magma’s residual fluids and are shaped by water over time. They came in different colors, swirling across their smooth, rounded surfaces. After that visit, I noticed them everywhere—in old streets paved with them, in roadside decorations. Without water, they lost their brilliance, but their patterns remained familiar.  As I grew older, my habit of collecting stones faded. When my family moved to Canada, I struggled to connect with the unfamiliar land. That changed during a trip to Banff, where my grandfather and I stood by a turquoise lake. While others took photos, he quietly picked up stones, wrapping the most beautiful ones in paper before handing them to me. I joined him, choosing only a few. Stones, the silent guides and companions of the land, had once again found their way into my hands.

– Haimo Wei

Relationship:  Child of im/migrant Child of im/migrant