A Rainy Morning at a Mountain Café in Korea

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 A Rainy Morning at a Café in Eonyang



One rainy morning around 9 a.m., my family decided to visit a café outside the city. I brought my favorite dolls with me, and we searched for a place with fresh air and a nice view. After about a 20-minute drive, we arrived at a café in Eonyang called Nine Hill.

Since it was still early, the café was quiet and there were many empty parking spaces. It had been raining quite a lot that morning, and the cool air made everything feel calm and peaceful.



The café was much bigger than I expected. There were three separate buildings, and each one had three floors. Even though it was still early in the day, the bakery shelves were already filled with many kinds of bread and desserts. I saw pizza bread, slices of cake, cookies, and many other pastries lined up neatly.

Our family chose a few things to share. We picked a bread for my parents, some pastries, and everyone ordered their own coffee. Then we found a seat by the large window.


When I sat down and looked outside, the view was more beautiful than I expected. The mountains stretched out quietly in front of us, and the rain made the scenery look soft and peaceful. Sitting there with warm drinks and watching the rainy mountains felt very relaxing.

After spending about two hours at the café, we decided to leave. In front of the café there was a small garden that was neatly arranged. While we were walking through it, I suddenly noticed something unexpected.

There was a rabbit.



The little rabbit was walking around near the plants, sniffing the ground as if it was looking for something. Sometimes it shook its fluffy body and kept exploring. It didn’t even seem to care that it was raining.

I had never seen a rabbit this close before.

For a moment, my family and I just stood there quietly watching it. The rabbit seemed completely busy in its own world, and somehow it made the whole place feel even more peaceful.

When I think about that morning, I remember the mountains, the rain, and the warm café. But what I remember most clearly is the little rabbit wandering around the garden.

Sometimes the smallest moments become the most memorable part of the day.

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Not Everything Needs My Full Weight

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  Learning to Live a Little Lighter I’m slowly learning that I don’t have to give everything my full weight. Not every thought needs to be followed. Not every feeling needs to be explained. Not every person needs my whole heart. There were times when life felt almost unbearable— heavy days, quiet pain, moments I didn’t know how to name. But those moments came not to break me, only to teach me something I wasn’t ready to hear before. That I can learn. And keep learning. Even when I don’t understand yet. I’ve noticed that when I expect less, I’m disappointed less. When I try less to prove myself, I hurt less. Some people give too much, too carefully, and end up wounded by their own kindness. I’m learning not to do that anymore. To live a little lighter. Not careless— just lighter. I see it everywhere now. When I move gently, my body doesn’t ache as much. When I begin slowly, I don’t regret the next day. Most things hurt less when I don’t force them. Even ...
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The Back We Will One Day Show

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The Backs We Watch Watching someone’s back quietly, without calling their name, makes my heart a little more beautiful, a little more humble. The back of a delicate bird that flies away the moment you speak. The back of a white butterfly that dances off before you even think to call it. The back of a poet who stays for a long while, just because the sunset by the sea is beautiful. The backs of nuns walking slowly along a corridor, or sitting in silence, praying. And then— one day, before leaving this world, my mother appeared in my dream, empty-handed, walking toward the gate of the convent, her back turned to me. At a funeral hall, the backs of family members standing again and again before the portrait of someone they loved. Why do backs always look a little sadder than faces? Why do they make us stare at the horizon, as if waiting for something we cannot name? Perhaps it is because, someday, we know we will also leave quietly— imagining in advance the back we will one day show to th...
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She Simply Made Space

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The Quiet Act of Waiting She was not someone who tried to keep things. She was someone who knew how to let them go. Her hand was empty— not calling the bird, not preparing to hold it. Just open, as if flying away was always allowed. The white bird carried a letter, but she did not wonder what it said. Some feelings are already delivered long before they arrive. Things that leave rarely offer explanations. Understanding is left to those who remain. Petals fell. The light leaned toward evening. Below her, the city breathed as if nothing had changed at all. She was not waiting. She knew even waiting can become a way of holding on. So she simply made space. Some goodbyes are spoken through posture, not words. And some kinds of love remain only by knowing how to release them.
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