Traditional Culture Encyclopedia - Photography major - Visit the enterprise

Visit the enterprise

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? The mountain road is long, winding through the mountains along the mountain. People only feel that they have gone through one bend after another, but they don't know how many hills they have climbed. I have been immersed in the lush green hills. Suddenly, the vision of the road is getting wider and wider, and the picture is inadvertently switched to another world. Clusters of low tea trees along the roadside have been spreading to the mountains. No neat lines, not neat at all, but more natural. They grow on rocks as if rocks existed for them.

Not far away, a pond appeared. Above the pond is a quaint village, namely Qishi, also called Shiren Village. Now it's an old stockade, and later a new stockade was built across the street. Hearing the name of this village makes people wonder, is there a stone like a man or a standing man?

? When I ask, there are really stones. According to the villagers, it was a stone like an ancient "official hat", which was on a mountain hundreds of meters behind the village. The villagers pointed to the direction of the distant mountain and said that it was the place where bamboo poles were inserted. The aerial plane flew around several times, but it was still not found.

? Later, the photographer decided to climb up and find out for himself. The mountain road is rugged and overgrown with shrubs. It took more than an hour to get to the stone. Surrounded by green trees and pines, it is a good place for rest and sightseeing. Just this stone, like an official hat? Or has it been eroded by wind and rain? In any case, people's imagination and natural stones endow the village with magical colors and make it a beautiful legend.

Walking in the alley of the village, there is a feeling of deja vu. On the bluestone path, the footsteps faded away. The wall house collapsed and there was no one in silence. The doors of those houses with traces of life are locked. People may have gone out to work. I was attracted by an unknown flower in the distance, and I walked all the way to a house where a girl was washing shoes.

? I asked her if she was still at school. She said that she would study in the town and go home this weekend. When I was talking to her, someone in the room looked at me and I looked at her. She sat in the dim light, her whole face was dark and she felt very old. It may be far away, so I can't see her face clearly. I asked her, who is that? That's her mother. Then her mother warmly invited me to sit in the house, drink tea and eat zongzi (just in time for the Dragon Boat Festival). Then she stood up and went out. She is thin and thin, and even if she stands outside in a bright place, her skin color is still very dark. I secretly thought, what kind of environment, a person will become like this. I can probably imagine it, but I can't imagine it without going through many details. I politely declined her kindness.

? I said I wanted to see the tree flower, which was in the corner in front of their house. What kind of flower is this? I'm surprised they don't know. The girl only said that her father brought it back to plant it. I want to say something else, but I don't know how to continue. Everyone in life, the object of concern and the size of concern are different. Some people care about survival, some care about life, some care about themselves ... so sometimes I find that when I talk to them, they are often not sure what they want to say, and their answers are not always what I want.

? I stopped in front of the unknown flowers in the tree, holding the camera, looking for direction and light, and taking pictures to my heart's content. For me, this is also an encounter with the nameless flower. I knew her name was hydrangea, which was a long time after I knew her.

? In addition to meeting flowers that I have never met before, walking in a village, the streamer seems to be stretched. Its image is half hidden in the years. I feel very happy to stay here for half a day. Quietly feeling the existence of the village, as if crossing into its past. I think the charm of a village is that even if you have never lived here, you will be touched by some details and scenes, as if waking up your sleeping memory and drawing a sound from your deep well.