The wonderful meaning of travel is always revealed inadvertently. It is accompanied by the reshaping of the soul, accompanied by the return to the world with a sense of loss, and is also full of the preciousness and regret of an unexpected journey. Every trip seems to be a cleansing of the soul, and every unusual journey seems to baptize the soul.
As a native of Shancheng, I often feel uneasy to live in the basin for a long time, so in the heat of summer, I have a desire to explore the mountains of Sichuan and Shaanxi. The Qinling Mountains are vertical and horizontal, the Bashan Mountains are extended, the Qinba area has beautiful scenery, beautiful mountains and rivers, and what attracts me more is the cool weather.
He has traveled to the Qinba area many times, wandered in the farmhouse covered by the bamboo forest in the spring, listened to the tactfulness outside the city of Ankang in the rain at night in early summer, touched the ice-like spring water brewed in the deep mountains of Wanyuan in midsummer, felt the golden ripeness of the rice on the bank of the Jialing River in early autumn, climbed the Guangwu Mountain in late autumn to experience the picturesque red leaves, and glimpsed the heavy snow scene of Yintiao Mountain in the fog in winter.
This time, the destination is Tongjiang, a small county town hidden deep in the Bashan branch, a small mountain town run through the tributaries of the tributaries of the Yangtze River. I chose the slowest train to travel, sitting quietly and gazing out the window, admiring the lush land, the scattered villages and towns, the rolling mountains, and the occasional river paddling under my feet. This kind of shock that flows slowly is incomparable to other means of transportation.
In the early morning, an ordinary express train leaves the mountain city, the reinforced concrete forest behind the tunnel is far away, the train winds away, and the mountain city is finally swallowed by green, leaving only lush greenery and the magnificent mountains and rivers of the motherland in the eyes. On this trip, I plan to take a fast train from the mountain city to the state, and then transfer to a bus to Tongjiang County, Bazhong.
There are not many people in the hard-seat carriages, twenty or thirty rows of seats, and thirty or forty people are scattered. In the 20s of the 21st century, when speed was pursued, not many people chose to travel by fast train. Across from him sat an old man with white hair in a gray travel hat that did not hide his sideburns, a dark blue close-fitting shirt that outlined his muscular figure, black loose pants with travel galoshes, and a gray travel bag beside him. He either retired to play or visit friends and family.
I am more introverted and don't like to talk to people, and the old man seems to be silently meditating, slightly sideways, staring out the window into the distance, exuding a sense of the vicissitudes of time. After all, there is no need to say more about meeting strangers. The mountain city has traveled many times on this road to the state, and the scenery is familiar, so it is full of memories.
The train shuttled through the mountains and fields for nearly three hours, and finally arrived at the ancient city of Dazhou in northeastern Sichuan. The train station came out about a kilometer away from the bus station, the old man was on the same road with me, obviously familiar with the surroundings, we met unexpectedly, and bought a bus ticket to Tongjiang. I ate a bowl of spicy noodles with local specialties in a small shop nearby, and then waited at the station, and the ** air-conditioned hall to block the heat was more comfortable.
There were not many people in the hall, except for the staff, a dozen or so pedestrians in a hurry. The old man sat alone on the bench with his eyes closed, holding a thermos cup in his hand, steaming. Here I seemed out of place with him, and the difference between a traveler and a traveler was not only in the countenance, but also in the dress.
After about two quarters of an hour, the old man got into the car alone, and I followed. Maybe it's fate, we gradually get acquainted. The old man is from Panzhihua, an industrial city in southern Sichuan, born in 58 years, and Tongjiang is his hometown.
The old man is very knowledgeable, and tells about the industry and agriculture of Panzhihua, the factories, mines and valley agriculture in the mountains. From the rise and fall of the steel industry, to loquat and mango. He handed me a small bag of dried mangoes from Panzhihua and invited me to taste the tropical fruits of Panzhihua. He mentioned his seemingly uneventful working life, and the pride in his tone was self-evident. The old man was an old worker of Pangang, who was on the front line when he was young, then transferred to the propaganda department, transferred to the party and government office at the end of his career, retired at the age of 55, and has re-embarked on the revolutionary journey for the tenth consecutive year.
At first, I thought that the old man was going back to his hometown to visit his relatives and relive the local atmosphere, but as he talked deeply, I realized his superficiality. The so-called homecoming of the wanderer is only the appearance, and faith and persistence are the foundation of the old man's soul.
The old man's grandfather was originally a rich peasant in the countryside of Bazhong, and after the Red Fourth Front Army moved west to the Sichuan-Shaanxi base area, he responded to the call to join the Red Army and became a revolutionary soldier, but he died on the battlefield and his remains are missing. My father grew up with the difficult support of my grandmother, and after the founding of New China, he became a grassroots manager in the geological survey department, married a primary school teacher, and gave birth to an old man. In the 60s, their family was transferred to Panzhihua with the construction of the third line, and the old man has lived in the border city of southern Sichuan until now.
In his later years, the old man's father returned to the Bazhong-Sichuan-Shaanxi Revolutionary Base every year to do the physical work he could for the old site of the red relics and pay homage to the Red Army Martyrs Cemetery. After the death of the old man's father, the old man has never forgotten his hometown in Tongjiang. When the old man said this, tears welled up in his eyes. The northeastern part of the river has changed dramatically, and the houses built of clay and stone in the past have long since disappeared. He recalls that when he left Bazhong in the 80s, many houses were crumbling in heavy rains and floods.
The bus drove through the county road for about ten kilometers and finally arrived at Tongjiang County, which is located between mountains and valleys. The mountains on both sides are majestic, the city buildings are abrupt, and the river is constantly flowing.
I said a brief goodbye to the old man, and he hurriedly boarded another country minibus. He was going to the martyrs' cemetery in the Sichuan-Shaanxi Revolutionary Base Area dozens of miles away. I didn't follow, and this was the end of my walk with the old man.
Parting from the world, may he go wherever he wants, looking forward to reunion. May his faith live on in this land and meet that pious crowd in the long river of history.
Walking Alone in the Mountains: Soul Baptism and Reunion" is really refreshing, as if stepping into Tongjiang County with the author and strolling among the mountains and rivers. The article depicts the author's chance encounter with an old man and his journey experience with fresh strokes, making people feel as if they are in a train carriage and feel the spiritual baptism brought by travel.
The whole article is delicate and warm, and by describing the communication between the author and the old man, it shows the old man's deep feelings for his family and country and his dedication to faith. The old man's family story not only outlines a family history, but also carries the epitome of China's modern history. Their family's experience is not only a personal story, but also a part of China's larger history, which touches my heart deeply.
The landscape depicted in the article outlines the magnificent scenery of the Qinba region, making people feel as if they are in it. Each scene is so vivid, like a picture jumping on the paper, people seem to be able to smell the fresh breath in the air and feel the wonderful charm of nature.
The author's delicate observation and depiction in the article make the characters vivid. The old man's tenacity and dedication to faith leap out between the words, making people pay homage to his story. His deep affection and nostalgia for his hometown and history are moving.
The whole article flows smoothly and naturally, and the text is simple and affectionate. The author not only shows what he saw and felt during his journey, but also arouses people's thinking about history, beliefs, and family emotions through the story of the old man. This article is not only a record of a trip, but also a profound exploration of human nature, faith and feelings for family and country, which is deeply moving.
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