On the way to Baoxing, I was taking a nap. When I arrived at Baoxing Station, I felt like I was in a town market when I saw the streets here. I hurriedly got on the bus to Shenmulei. Since I was in the last row, the bumps along the way kept me from falling asleep, so I just enjoyed the scenery outside the window. The small stream became clearer as I went deeper into the mountains, and even the trees became greener. Although it was winter, the cold-resistant plants had thick cotton coats. The peaks were towering into the clouds, and the misty fog was wandering on the top of the mountain, hazy and trance-like, like a fairy's palace. Sometimes there was a mountain spring flowing from the hillside, sometimes there was a clear green lake in sight, and sometimes there were cattle and sheep drinking water leisurely by the river. All of this was a beautiful scenery given by nature.
After walking for about an hour, the girl sitting in front of us suddenly shouted, "Snow!" We were startled and turned our heads to look at the top of the mountain outside the window. On the top of the mountain surrounded by clouds and mist, there was a layer of white gauze spread on it, adding color to this sentimental mountain. Not far away, a huge lake was embedded in the valley, with ripples of green, and occasionally a few white cranes flew over the lake. It happened that the sun came out, and the faint sunlight sprinkled on the lake, echoing the ethereal valley. The green of the lake and the green of the forest played music that belonged only to them in the mountains in a completely different form.
As soon as I got off the car, I was shivering in the cold wind. A resident next to me said, "You are climbing a mountain wearing so little." This sentence shocked us. It turns out that the temperature in the mountains is really beyond our imagination. I originally planned to walk in Shenmulei Mountain, but I heard from the locals that there is a big snow mountain on the top of the mountain from the side path. This really attracted me. So we changed our direction and marched into the mountain with big bags of snacks after a quick lunch. Although the mountain is not high or steep, the thicker the clothes, the heavier the burden.
After climbing for about an hour, I finally found some traces of snow on the branches. When I touched it, it melted in the warmth of my palm before I could even feel it. The desire for snow is innate in a Sichuanese, because snow is almost invisible in the southwest, and my memory of snow only dates back to 2008. So when I first saw the scattered snow, my heart was excited, excited, and even a little bit crying. We continued to move forward, our underwear soaked with sweat, and we no longer felt the cold we had just gotten off the bus. Such a big mountain, but at this moment only a few people are walking on it. It must be lonely. Maybe no one understands it, no one understands its deep meaning, no one understands it. He is so majestic, and no one understands his tenderness. Such a fierce man knows how to decorate himself with snow.
