My uncle Jian, 63, retired in a small village in north China, took up a hobby of lens with his new smartphone, once showed me some of his pictures. I was stunned. I looked into each image, pure refreshing abstract beauty, I could not help putting lines of poetry into them, as they evoked some of my deepest emotions. Then it sounded like a song, suitably titled by Glinka, a nocturne of "La séparation".