Day 8 Ordos-Xilamuren Grassland.
Before I knew it, the retrospective travelogue of this trip had already been written. Writing an article on a computer is indeed not the same as poking a word with your finger on a mobile phone screen. The main disadvantage of writing articles directly on your phone is that editing is too inconvenient, and the screen is too small, and you often can't remember what was written in front of you until you write later. However, this is not a reason why an essay is not well written. When I started writing this series of articles on "Actions and Thoughts", I made the following assumptions for myself:
It seems that I have been writing travelogues for many years. However, an excellent travelogue and many excellent travelogues still need to be carefully pondered. The people, events, scenes, and history in the process of traveling, the specific details of the travel, the vivid rather than mediocre descriptions of each place, until extended to the sublimation of poetry, are the most important things. It is absolutely necessary to put an end to big talk and empty clichés, and the simple language and eloquent style run through the whole article, but it does not hinder the broad and even wonderful associations. The travelogue in prose style has both historical and humanistic reflections. Am I asking too much?”
Now, as I begin writing my eighth travelogue, I would like to reiterate the question: Am I asking too much?
Stand in front of the yurt and look up at the starry sky, the deep sky is full of stars. Looking up at the splendid stars, it will always make me feel inexplicably happy from the bottom of my heart. The heart is vast, and Mr. Lu Xun wrote this sentence for no reason. If there really is a specific physical phenomenon in nature that resonates with the mind, then for me, the twinkling stars are probably the first choice.
This is the starry sky of the Hilamuren steppe, a dazzling black velvet sky inlaid with bright gemstones. It's an unfathomable starry sky that seems to be within reach.
Do you remember that poem?
The dangerous building is 100 feet high, and you can pick the stars by hand.
I dare not raise my voice, for fear of frightening the people in heaven.
Yes, at this moment, the stars are really smiling at you, blinking happily, and about to speak. You look forward to it, and the earth is listening. But the steppe was jealous, and a sad wind blew, and the stars fell silent. The Xilamuren grassland under the starry sky is silent.
Another day of trekking. Departing from Ordos, passing through the Kubuqi Desert, stopping at Xiangshawan. Then we crossed the Yellow River Bridge again near Baotou and headed east along the foothills of Daqingshan Mountain, where we marched to the upper chord of the Dahetao area.
The clothes are covered with dust and wine marks, and the soul is lost everywhere when traveling.
This fit is the last of the poets
Drizzle rides a donkey into the sword gate.
Savor Lu You's famous travel poem, at least we can know that Lu You is not a real backpacker, but a donkey. How much does a good donkey travel take in a day, 20 km or 30 km?The poet set off from Lin'an to arrive in Shuzhong, not half a year but also three months. Li Bai, Du Fu, Li Shangyin, Lu You, the life of the poet lingers in the journey. The modern traveler can complete the task of a lifetime of the ancients in a matter of days. Regardless of the quality of the trip, there is no doubt that the effective life time is a world of difference.
I deliberately ignored Xiangshawan, but I can't help but mention the five callings. Rather than talking about this pure Tibetan lamaist monastery, it is better to say that I appreciate the white clouds of Wudang Summoning more. I want to use the most unimaginative and boring language to depict: who tore up the snow-white cotton wool by hand, threw it on the pure blue paint curtain wall that had not yet dried, and slowly condensed. And who drove the flock of sheep out of sight, and thus walked into the pure blue ocean without a trace of ripples;Then, with a wave of his wand, he overturned the sheep and the sea, freezing the frame and eternity.
Who is this and who is ......
In the evening, we passed through the suburbs of Hohhot and entered the hinterland of Daqing Mountain. A local guide, a talkative little girl of half-Mongolian descent, said sincerely that it would be better to understand Xilamuren as a sparse grassland where no one comes. Really, the degradation of the grasslands is really serious. But so what?I huddled in the last row of the bus, watching the shadows gradually cover the green mountains, and the grassland slowly immersed in the vastnessAt the edge of the grassland and at the end of the green hills, there happened to be the last rays of light cast by the setting sun, and the afterglow of the setting sun dyed red and drifting white clouds.
The remnant sun is like blood. The traveler's tired eyes stared at the distant horizon, as if he saw the elite cavalry of Huo Quai's 100,000 cavalry of the Han Dynasty, the banners and hunting horns sounded in unison, and the wind swept across the grassland like a fierce wind, reaching the Wolf Juxu Mountain (Ulaanbaatar);Seeing Genghis Khan's army assembled on this steppe, the bees and ants gathered, and the blood swore to conquer from here, creating a grand plan to cross the Eurasian empire. I also saw that the Houjin army was also full-fledged here, and the soldiers of the Eight Banners coveted the Central Plains with swords and guns.
The deceased is like Sifu, and the rivers flow forever!Nowadays, only travelers cast their lonely backs on the vast ancient road......
Twilight in the steppe!I followed the last blush in the sky with my eyes, and the sky of history finally fell into boundless darkness.
Late at night, Hiramuren was quiet. Tomorrow, the sun rises as usual.