In the Northern Sea, there is a fish named kun. Its huge size spans who-knows-how-long li in distance. It morphs into a bird called peng. The back of the bird stretches who-knows-how-long li in distance. Fiercely it flies, with its wings resembling hanging clouds in the sky. Driven by the current, it flies to the Southern Sea. 

 

The Southern Sea—that is the Celestial Pond. The Qixie Collections is a record of many strange and supernatural tales, it describes: ‘When the peng bird flies to the Southern Sea, it flaps its wings against the water, creating splashes that span 3,000 li, on a whirlwind, it ascends 90,000 li into the sky, harnessing the gust of the midyear winds to make its departure’. The galloping winds in the hills, and the dust in the air are the consequence of the exchanging of breath of living things.    

 

Is the blue of the sky, the sky’s actual colour? Or is it its vast extent that has limited our conception of it? When the peng looks down, the same meets its view. Moreover, if water is not accumulated sufficiently, there will not be enough force to move a large vessel. Overturn a cup of water in a recess, one can set afloat a tiny grass in it like a boat. But, if one places the cup itself in it, the article will get stuck—shallow water and large vessel. If the accumulation of wind is lacking, there will not be sufficient force to carry the wings of the peng.   

‘Thus at 90,000 li, ample wind is gathered under the wings of the peng; carrying the blue sky on its back, unobstructed, it flies South.’

 

—An excerpt from Zhuangzi’s Xiaoyaoyou