We rode our motorbike to a small house painted in yellow on top of a hill. There is a tourist couple here taking souvenir pictures for each other, the parasol girl walks up and then steps down an open-air staircase for her boyfriend to take a photo of her. The bright sunlight made the shadow of the stairs printed on the wall look very nice, which reminded me of the notion of a silhouette of time. Time inherently has no name, no age, no form, no color, neither sadness nor joy ... It is like the silk weaving the days throughout worldly life. Time passes too fast. Hundred years is like a moment of joy. Joy, suffering, sadness, bitterness ... interwoven in human life and time is the miracle that heals all human wounds and sorrows. The shadow or trace of time often manifests itself in the existence of matter in many different spacetime. The silhouette of time is like the shadow of a cloud flying through the sky, but its silhouette glides rapidly on the ground, sometimes unable to follow.