Waiting for You Under the Camphor Tree

This book is a collection of essays rich in local flavor and everyday life， both documentary and humanistic. The author， extracts what he has seen， heard， thought， and realized in his life journey， reflecting on the past and the present， empathizing with others， and deeply interpreting the history， authenticity， and culture of Zhangjiagang. The author presents the development and life history of the common people of Zhangjiagang from multiple levels， aspects， and angles.

Ding Dong

Long engaged in teaching， educational research， and administrative management， Ding Dong currently serves as the deputy director of the Peoples Congress of Zhangjiagang City， Jiangsu Province. Published over 330 essays， sketches， and poems in newspapers like Peoples Daily and Guangming Daily， with many winning national awards.

In the tree family， the camphor tree， also known as dark camphor and fragrant camphor， is highly esteemed as one of the four famous trees of southern China.

The camphor tree loves light and heat， tolerates moisture， has a long lifespan， and is not demanding in terms of soil quality. It blooms in early summer with yellow-green， conical clusters of flowers， has lush leafy branches， and is evergreen throughout the year， providing dense shade like an umbrella. Its deep roots， which are resistant to wind， make it an excellent street and shade tree. Also， because it contains a special fragrance and volatile oil and has the characteristics of heat resistance， corrosion resistance， and insect repellence， it is an ideal material for precious furniture， high-end buildings， and craft carving. Camphor， commonly used in daily life， is a white crystalline substance distilled from the roots， stems， branches， and leaves of the camphor tree. It is colorless， transparent， cool， and fragrant and used for mothproofing and in medicine.

In folklore， the camphor tree is seen as an auspicious tree for feng shui， symbolizing the warding off of evil， good fortune， and longevity， embodying peoples hopes for a good life. “Three trees in front of the house， prosperity for three generations.” The “three trees” refer to camphor， pomegranate， and osmanthus trees. Moreover， the camphor tree has other uses. It is said that there has been an ancient custom in the south of the Yangtze River to “plant camphor trees in front of the house when a daughter is born”， one tree for one daughter， several trees for several daughters， as if announcing it to the world. This direct practice stems from ancient times when information was scarce， and girls rarely left home， with parents hoping for good marriages for their daughters. “A tall and large camphor in front， a daughter of marriageable age in the house.” Often， at this time， “one daughter， a hundred suitors” naturally leads to marriage proposals， culminating in marriage， continuing the family line. When the daughter marries， the camphor wood is used to make her bridal trousseau.

Perhaps for these reasons， the camphor is highly favored by people. Many cities have chosen it as their city tree， including my hometown Zhangjiagang.

“Camphor trees are full of flowers competing to bloom.” In Zhangjiagang City， located on the southern bank of the lower reaches of the Yangtze River， camphor trees are everywhere， single， in rows， in patches， lining roadsides， riverbanks， lakeshores， parks， neighborhoods， and courtyards， filling every space and corner of the city and countryside， contrasting with the blue sky. They form exquisite combinations with small bridges over flowing water， white walls with black tiles， bamboo fences with peach and plum blossoms， and apricot blossoms in spring rain， creating a beautiful， harmonious 3D ink painting， illuminating the term “water town，” giving this small city a unique charm， making it suitable for living， and endowing it with prosperous feng shui， picturesque scenery， and the vitality of life.

Its hard to imagine what this city would look like without camphor trees. In the depths of time， the proud camphor trees stand tall like elders， deeply knowledgeable of the world. Hidden behind the camphor tree is the citys long history， rich culture， and endless stories： the rice of Dongshan Village， the ballads of Heyang Mountain， the fish scales of Xujia Bay， the anecdotes of Luyuan Town， the sails of Huangsipu， the bells of Hanshan Temple， the misty rain of Qingan Street， the cormorants of Gudu Port， the window roots of Meihuatang， the legends of Shuangshan Island， the sparks in the reed marshes. Each note is laden with the thickness of time， and each melody wafts with the vicissitudes of the years. Today， all these past events have been reclaimed by time， nurturing the citys generous， elegant， tolerant， and compassionate soul and giving birth to the citys robust， grand， simple， and profound character.

This book about my hometown inevitably pulls me back to my long-lost youth. I remember， in the delicately beautiful school campus， there was a dense camphor forest. Those green fruits， emitting a young fragrance， hid quietly behind the leaves， filling the entire campus with a tranquil aroma. Year after year， I sat by the classroom window， moving from the first to the third floor， gazing at the camphor forest as if waiting for something. Finally， while waiting for my university admission letter， under the camphor forest， I met a pair of eyes that made my heart beat faster. Since then， that frozen， warm moment has become the most unforgettable scenery and the most moving picture in my life， and that moist green has appeared countless times in my dreams. After graduation， I returned to my hometown， established a family and career， and stayed with the camphor trees. In a blink， over 30 years have passed. Most of my lifes brilliance has gone by， my hair turning grey， but my deep affection for the camphor trees remains unchanged.

People are， after all， descended from the trees. The existence of the camphor trees has ingrained my deep love for my hometown into my bones. Over the decades， I have been to many cities with bustling traffic and dazzling lights， but I dont like them very much. Those glamorous metropolises， though magnificent， lacked grace; although lively， they lacked tranquility. Because when I looked up， among the towering buildings， I could only see a small patch of mostly grey sky. Because when I looked down， at the corners of streets， I could only hear high-decibel noises， mostly chaotic. At such times， I would think of my hometowns open sky， the gentle green， and the peaceful night.

Countless times， Ive wandered the streets and alleys of my hometown， meeting guests from across the country and even from abroad under the camphor trees， seeing their pleased and comfortable smiles， a sense of indescribable pride welling up in me. Occasionally chatting， they would praise， “The camphor trees here are so beautiful！ The environment here is so good！” And I would respond with a modest expression， saying， “Just average， needs improvement！” Hearing this， most guests would smile knowingly. Who doesnt understand that Im just being modest？ After all， Zhangjiagangs status as a nationally civilized city and winner of the UN-Habitat Scroll of Honor is no small feat.

Through the cycle of cold and heat， spring， summer， autumn， and winter， day after day， year after year， the camphor trees， as always， silently grow， sprout， flourish， shed leaves， and regrow. While the citys pace quickens， its scale expands， and its population increases. After entering the new century， especially in the past seven or eight years， after the highways and bridges were built， and the high-speed rail was opened， I saw more and more outsiders coming here， more and more of the next generation coming here to study， more and more new citizens settling here， so much that the housing prices rose， the slots in public schools are limited， and the roads were congested. While I admired the rapid development of my hometown， I couldnt help but worry： If this continues， will the camphor trees still be as dark green as before， will the hygiene still be as clean as before， will the environment still be as livable as before？

However， upon careful reflection， such worries are narrow-minded， selfish， absurd， and unnecessary. Isnt a city attracting people from everywhere a testament to its charm and value？ Imagine， if nobody aspired to or cared for it， it wouldnt be far from decline. Where， then， would the vitality and energy come from， let alone a future？ But in the process of continuous expansion， the citys managers need to operate the city with higher wisdom， and the citys residents need to cherish the city with heightened consciousness so that the limited space and resources can properly carry more peoples dreams and accommodate more peoples happiness.

Nostalgia is like dense leaves. I stand under the camphor tree， kissing the rough and soon-to-be-old skin. Looking up， I see the sky still clear and boundless. I see the camphor trees still lush and green， and their dense leaves rustling in the wind. The surroundings enveloped in tranquility and fragrance. I smiled. The appearance of my hometown has changed so fast in these decades， and the environment of my hometown has been protected so well. As long as I have confidence， then the next ten years， and the ten years after that， will surely be the same！

Whether you come or not， Ill be waiting under the camphor tree. Waiting for you， when the camphor blossoms; waiting for you， when the camphor bears fruit; waiting for you， when the camphor leaves fall; Waiting for you， when the camphor sprouts. I firmly believe that as long as the camphor trees still stand tall in the years， then you will surely appear in front of me wearing a smile like water.

Waiting for You Under the Camphor Tree

Ding Dong

Hohai University Press

February 2022

58.00 （CNY）