Describe a Place Lingering in Our Memory

In my childhood, whenever I spent the night in Longjiang with my grandparents, I would go for a walk in
Stone City Park with them. It was my favorite place of all. Qinhuai River flows through the tree-shaded park,
reflecting the ancient stone city wall. There is a famous scenic spot in the park called "The Wiry Face
Looking in the Mirror", which refers to the reflection of a ledge on the city wall. The ledge's uneven surface
is so uniquely shaped that people regard it as a wiry face. However, as a kid, I never agreed on that because
in my eyes, it looks like nothing more than a strange rock.

What appeals to me about this park are many other things. When I was in kindergarten, my grandpa used to
wake me up before dawn and take me there to see the sunrise. Sleepy as I was, I was thrilled about the
oncoming scene. We would enter the tranquil park where the only sound was made by the twittering birds.
Grandpa would take me up the city wall and we would sit on a stone stool, chatting as we wait. The sky was
dyed pink and orange by the narrow beams of light coming out from the horizon. And all of a sudden, the
sun leaped out and set the clouds on fire. The rays of the morning sun flowed on the greensward, danced on
the water, then slowly crawled up the stone wall and bathed us in the warm glow. The reflected sunlight from
the water tinged the trees on the bank with bright gold. The "Wiry Face" looked into the water, with its oddly
shaped reflection glittering in the breeze. Awakened by the sun, the park began to come alive as people
living nearby started to enter. Grandpa and I would walk along the city wall, greeting the energetic seniors
jogging by, or stopping to admire them playing Dou Weng skilfully. I would pet every dog on the way while
Grandpa was having small talks with their owners who had long been his acquaintances. Instead of joining
the kids of my age, I often chose to find the amiable old gentleman who played bamboo flute in the park
every morning. He would greet us with a smile and lend me his flute to teach me how to play. I would pout
in a passable imitation of him, though I never managed to play the melody as beautifully as he did. Grandpa
always stood by and smiled at me, taking out his camera and capturing me in that moment.

Grandpa was such a skilful amateur photographer that he had captured so many heavenly memories in the
park –– the moment of me laughing in the blossoming shrubs under the wall, the moment of our family
flying a Doraemon kite on the wooden bridge leading to the park, the moment of me making a face at the
"Wiry Face", and the moment of me carrying a basket of snow in the sleepy park in its white quilt, ready to
throw a snowball at the camera.

I seldom returned to the park after my grandpa passed away, and the memories have started to turn vague.
However, the Stone City Park is still my favorite place for it preserves my precious childhood memories. I
will hold on to these recollections wherever I go in the future to remind me of the love of my grandpa and
my family.