Register now!and get more exciting experience!

Log in

寻访崇山峻岭间的藏寨小村 The Tibetan Village Up In the Mountain Peaks (2)

wh  10-09-17 15:52


The next morning, I woke up in the falls and rises of the cock crows. The jingling sound from the cattle necks in the pen at the back of the house last night seemed to be still ringing in my ears. When I went out, I heard the singing of all kinds of birds near and far. I felt that this memory was worth to be cherished for the entire life. It was like the music coming from the heaven, the sound of nature, and the most pleasant thing to the ear. When I heard the high decibel noise mixed with the sound from the trains, people, televisions and the mechanical pronouncing of the station names in the subway, how I longed a quieter world. Only when I was here today, I found this was a wonderland for taking refuge.

At the entrance to the village, I saw the cameraman had been there long ago, waiting to catch the sunrise, and I went for a walk in the woods in front of the village. Early morning was probably the best time for the village, with the fresh air, the pure and beautiful scenery, and a broad view of greenness. Thin mist was floating around the foot of the hills, smoke from the kitchen chimneys was rising gradually from the roof, and giant pinecones were hanging on the tree overhead. I seemed to have been in a fictitious land of peace if there were no telegraph poles and wires symbolizing modernization in this picture.

The sun gradually showed its face, and it cast the light over the opposite mountain peaks, with a hint of golden color. These peaks were enshrouded by the misty clouds, partly hidden and partly visible, which made the place look like a fairyland on earth.
You could never refuse the hospitality of the villagers here. If you took a few shots in front of their houses, they would invite you in and treat you with meat and wine. When meeting you on the road, they would smile at you or even kindly stop to chat with you.
We stayed for two days in the village, and it started to rain the morning when we were going to leave. The mountain rain would come without any foreshadow. I sat by the stove quietly, warming myself and listening to the pitter-patter outside. There was nothing on my mind and the concept of time became indistinct. When it rained, I would eat some roasted potatoes. When it was fine, I would go out to have a walk around. In the evening, I drank some highland barley wine, chatting and listening to the dog barks and the jingling sound of the cattle bells. The great nature belonged to all of us anyway. That was how I felt. I wouldn't bother to think of the significance or the goal of life, for the things I did the moment was the life itself.

Before we left, all the villagers we met said:" Please come back again." One day before, I ran across a group of children on the hill slopes behind the village, who laughed and ran to the back of the house on seeing me. I didn’t take it to heart. When I passed them, they called me from behind:" Teacher Li—". It seemed that they were just making some fun out of calling me, so I replied:" Yes?" Then they laughed and ran away again. But on our departure day, they were all at school and couldn't come to see us off. "Please come back again." I thought about this. But when could I come here again? I even thought how great it would be if I were a teacher, so I would be able to come here to teach during my summer holidays. When I had a child of my own, I would take him/her here with me.




Share |
Edit on11-02-16 11:28