It has been about two years since I last wrote to you. I remember the first time I wrote to you was when I went traveling with my family during the summer vacation of 2014 and was trapped in Sanqing Mountain due to heavy rain. The washed and undried clothes were hung all over the balcony. I was sitting on the bed wearing the only set of pajamas I had left. You were also in a foreign country at the time. You said that it was easier to write letters during the trip because of a certain "poetic mood like a wanderer" (general meaning, I have forgotten the specific term). We were all "poets" at that time. I don't know how you are now, but when I have the idea of "poetry" again, I am always so annoyed by myself that I abandon my pen and run away. "Young people don't know the feeling of sorrow", but now, a "young man" like me who pretends to be mature has begun to feel ashamed of singing about the wind and the moon, feeling sad about things! I am now sitting in the hotel lobby, surrounded by swarms of mosquitoes. My brother has already fallen asleep. I hid here and tried to read under the dim light, but suddenly I was hit by the "poetic mood of a wanderer". And her cheeks began to turn red from shame. I just write to you through this drunkenness that has nothing to do with alcohol. I hope you won’t laugh at me after reading this drunken talk.We are traveling as a family of four this time. My younger brother is still young and can’t go very far, so we can only wander around Nanchang. On the first day we arrived in Lushan, we lived in Guling Town, halfway up the mountain. We took the high-speed train all morning and walked tirelessly up and down the aisles. My brother slept until four or five o'clock in the afternoon and didn't wake up. We walked along the street garden. I was so excited that I happened to catch the afterglow of the setting sun at a viewing platform. Here again, I would like to lament that modern people are inevitably vulgar. Although we know that the brilliance of the sunset is ever-changing and fleeting, when we stare at it without blinking and appreciate it, we still can't help but take out our mobile phones and take random pictures. It is probably precisely because electronic records are so reliable that human memory is getting worse and worse. Walking down the mountain road, every time you stop at an open place to look at the sky, the scenery changes with time and angle. We walked back until the night was completely covered. On the way, we saw the mountains opposite dotted with lights, which were adjacent to the stars in the night sky. They looked a bit like Van Gogh's paintings, so we took another random photo.
In the past few days in Lushan Mountain, I have generally visited Jinxiu Valley, Sandiequan, and Shimen Stream. The scenery is certainly good, but after seeing too much, I can't help but feel a little tired of aesthetics, and I feel that they are all similar. The winding mountain roads often leave people out of breath and lose interest in enjoying the scenery. Only the younger brother is always full of energy. When walking by himself, he uses his feet to measure every inch of land and his hands to touch every stone. When he is being held, he reaches out to pat every tree on both sides of the mountain road. Hug every tree. I remember telling you that I often made friends with trees when I was a child. Children are probably closer to and more in love with nature than adults, and the boundaries between species that cannot communicate are particularly blurred for them.
Walking on these overly neat stone steps, the mountains and trees gradually gave people a sense of uniformity. Occasionally, I heard the sound of running water hitting the rocks. I followed the sound and stepped forward to see that there was a waterfall pouring down from the rubble, but the scale was small. None of them are big, just a long and slender one, which is a little pitiful against the huge rocks. The water in the pool below the waterfall often dries up, revealing the stone piers at the bottom of the pool that were originally used as bridges. Even the waterfall, which was praised as "the best in the world" in the travel guide, was still underwhelming after seeing it in person. After asking, I found out that it was the dry season and there was really nothing to see at the waterfall. Chinese religious believers have always liked to build temples on mountaintops, and mountains are indispensable here. The temples enshrine statues of gods with crude colors and lines, and the halls are filled with dizzying incense, making them seem boring. I just prefer the unobstructed blue sky that is different from the city. The sunlight and cloud shadows are always changing, so I don’t get tired of watching them. Every time the mountain wind blows through the treetops, the swaying beams of light and the ground pass through the gaps. The flickering bright spots are even more interesting. Of course the best thing is the fog in the mountains. An artificial lake was dug halfway up the mountain, with a pavilion on an island in the middle of the lake and a garden built around the lake. That morning, we happened to walk to the lakeside, facing the pavilion in the center of the lake. Suddenly, a gust of mist rose up from the mountains behind us. It was carried by the mountain wind and drifted over our heads in a leisurely manner, heading directly towards the lake. For a moment, only a vast expanse of white was seen on the lake, and the pavilion in the center of the lake was looming, as if it was surrounded by fog and held up. It seems that the people in the pavilion should feel a bit ecstatic at this moment. After a while the fog dissipated, and the mirror-like surface of the lake again reflected the blue sky and white clouds, the slanting branches of the old trees by the lake, and the flowers and plants on Tingzhou by the water. Although this lake is "artificial", the natural beauty of the mountain mist, skylight and cloud shadows also adds to the beauty. I have heard some arguments that blindly condemn man-made landscapes, thinking that everything that is natural is good, otherwise it is just trying to do something in front of nature, and no matter how "clever" it is, it cannot beat the work of nature. I think we should be more tolerant.
After coming down the mountain, we stayed at a hotel near Donglin Temple and ate vegetarian food for a few days. Our legs were quite tired from the mountain, so we just wandered around the hotel. One evening when I was taking a walk, there was a small stream along the way. It was also half dry, with almost no flowing stagnant water. It was originally nothing special. But when I turned to a certain angle, the sunset fell just right on a small piece of water surrounded by a circle of rocks, as if a small plate was holding a plate of broken gold, but there was no trace outside the circle. I can't help but lament that nature still wins, this magic power that turns ordinary things into magic! I couldn't help but take out my mobile phone and take a picture of the sunset among the grass and rocks. I attached the photo to the letter so that I can enjoy this moment between heaven and earth with you.
Finally, we went to Donglin Temple, which was regarded as the last stop of the journey. I guess I'm a weird person. I don't look at the scenery when I'm on the mountain. I always stare at the local residents and vendors selling mountain products. When I get to this "humanistic attraction" where I pray to God and worship Buddha, I just look at the lotus flowers standing in the big pond. . I had seen "red flowers, lotus seeds and white lotus roots" in Mr. Wang Zengqi's novel before. This time I looked carefully and still couldn't figure out the reason, so I had to give up. The Buddha statues here are much neater and more majestic than those in the temples on the top of the mountain, and the pilgrims are more pious. Although I don't believe in Buddhism, I walked into a dark and closed hall and walked around it. On both sides of the path were rows of serious Buddha statues, staring at me with their heads lowered. Coupled with the dizzying aroma, I was really in a trance, feeling a sense of "awe" that I had never experienced before, although it was fleeting after leaving the main hall. I didn't come here to seek shelter, nor did I have any wishes. I just wanted to immerse myself in a religious environment and experience the state of mind of a believer. But after all, I didn't understand the complicated etiquette and taboos. I was often criticized and educated by others for violating the precepts, so I had to I held my breath and concentrated, walking on thin ice, feeling uncomfortable all over.
If Kuling Street is a gathering place for tourists, there are many hotels and commercial streets, and various luminous lights show a scene similar to the prosperity of the city center at night. However, if you just walk a little further to the edge of the commercial district, you will be left alone. street lights and scattered tree shadows. However, Donglin Temple is located in a village, and there are devout believers who come and go. They don't like the bustling, and they don't want to go out at night to seek excitement, so there are not many modern service industries developed in the surrounding area. After dinner, I was wandering around the hostel. It was getting dark. Looking around, I could hardly see even the shadows of street lamps. The village was quiet under the moonlight, having fallen asleep early. I returned to the room. My younger brother had just fallen asleep. Naturally, my parents didn't turn on the lights or talk. I saw two mobile phone screens shining in the darkness. I took a book and sat down in the lobby, but I couldn't read it very well. The girl at the front desk probably rarely worked the night shift and couldn't stand the loneliness. She was chatting on the phone with her friends. I stared at the black marble table under the dim light, and felt an unknown sleepiness gradually surround me.I haven’t seen you for a long time. I can’t remember when my last letter was. People say that it’s easy to feel homesick and nostalgic when traveling. I was traveling with my parents and younger brother, so I couldn’t help but miss my family. I simply thought about my sworn brother who is not related by blood. Just be sweet. I don’t know what I have been busy with in the past few years. Opportunities for traveling far away have become less and less, and later I simply stopped reading. Nowadays, it takes a lot of effort to write such a long-running travelogue. As usual, there is still the feeling of being a wanderer in a foreign land, but it is all empty and melancholy, not much poetic. I always look down at the sixpence on the ground, and when I look up at the moon, I feel my shoulders and neck are stiff and sore, and I don’t care about reciting poems correctly. Now I envy the energy I had when I was a teenager. Every time I talk about it at two or three in the morning, I still don’t feel tired; Now I don’t do anything and I start to feel tired early. There is no wine tonight, and there is no one to drink with, so let me get drunk in this empty and groundless melancholy! "Forcing me to express my sorrow in order to compose new words." Five years have passed since then, and my state of mind is still so childish. However, due to the passage of time, I have made no progress, and I have become somewhat decadent and old-fashioned. It would be too self-pitying to say any more, so I will stop writing here.
