Walking, walking prose

I often wonder if there is a restless soul hidden in my body. Does my soul have particularly strong legs and particularly curious eyes? She always said to me: Travel quietly, walk and walk!

While walking, I saw so many magical scenery.

Standing in Huangshizhai and Tianzi Mountain in Zhangjiajie, I felt that this place was once a deep sea depression. The quartz sandstone has experienced water cutting, differential weathering and gravity collapse. It seems that there is a nature at every step. His unique ingenuity and uncanny workmanship resulted in the bizarre and strange Qifeng Canyon today.

The sleep in the deep sea, the pain when the water cuts, the sharpness of the wind as it roars day by day, the thrill of the rolling boulders when the sudden collapse - every dangerous change is like experiencing the pain of new life. , however, every labor pain is followed by fresh cheers and new feelings.

This is how the life of a mountain should be.

This cave discovered by chance has many legendary stories. Some people say that the rabbit ran into this hole when two farmers were catching rabbits. They were not convinced, so they used smoke to smoke out the rabbit. Unexpectedly, the rabbit did not come out for a long time, so they pushed aside the grass and went in to take a look: an unfathomable thing. The cave appeared in front of us.

Another theory is that two soldiers discovered it accidentally to avoid tracking.

The cave is on the mountainside. There is a cave in the cave. Walk up the repaired stone steps. There are four levels of heaven in one cave. There are huge stalagmites, stalactites and stone pillars in each level. I said: "The principle is very simple. Let's go home and build a miniature bonsai." The person next to me laughed: "It only grows one centimeter in a hundred years. How many years does it take you to build a bonsai?" Every person in the cave laughed. Each stalagmite pillar seems to show the history of the mountain, and also quietly contrasts the insignificance of human beings.

There is actually a river in the cave. After we climbed to the fourth level, we took a small boat and shuttled among the boulders in the cave, and followed the water to the entrance of the cave. At the entrance of the cave, there is actually a "maze", which is a small cave lined with stalagmites, pillars and stalactites. It is sandwiched between the rivers in the upper and lower caves. The naturally formed stalactites have strange shapes and are really magical!

After exiting the cave, I took a photo of the outside of Huanglong Cave. This is an inconspicuous mountain with lush woods, like a giant mound. Such peaks are everywhere in the hilly areas of our Dabie Mountains. However, who would have thought that there is a cave inside, such a magical world?

Perhaps a mountain is like a person, the appearance is not necessarily the same as the inside, and the material is not necessarily consistent with the spirit.

While walking, I met some people who were so touching.

When walking in Shaoshan, we can hear mythical legends about him from the tour guides and in tourist merchandise stores: He did not go to military school for a day but never lost a battle in his life; he fought in a whole life but never lost a battle. He has not suffered a single injury. His bronze statue had a mysterious car breakdown when it was being transported through Jiangxi. The sun and moon shone together during the ribbon-cutting ceremony of the bronze statue, and the cuckoos bloomed against the snow four months in advance.

However, I didn’t believe he was a god when I stood in front of his former residence in Chong, Shaoshan.

The lotus pond is still there. He made a mistake back then. In order to escape his father's beating and scolding, he slipped into the lotus pond, hid behind the lotus leaves and made faces at his father on the bank, or snickered behind him and did not forget to pick a lotus pod to taste. . Is this God? No, he is our neighbor’s brother, he is the naughty look of my grandfather and father when he was a child.

The farm tools are still there. The coir raincoats for grazing cattle, the poles for carrying water, the mortars for pounding rice, the stone mills for grinding flour, and even the cattle pens, pig pens and barns are all still there. These farm tools tell us that that person really existed. He was born in this bed, grew up in that house, played in the bamboo forest behind the house, and was busy in the rice field in front of the door. Is he a god? No, he grew up slowly just like you and me.

The island is still there. The imaginary Orange Isletou is not as clear as reality, but it is just as moving as reality. The rolling water of the Xiangjiang River and the rolling Yuelu Mountains stretch out into the river like a small boat floating on the river, but it has more solid carrying capacity than the small boat. As a result, the independent Jiangtou Society suddenly felt a sense of vastness and a sigh of prosperity and failure. Back then, when he was studying here, did he often hold a book and meditate here? Later, when he returned to his hometown, did he fall into the memories of the past and the deeper contemplation of reality? I stood at the head of the island, gently pushing away the noise of tourists around me with my soul's hand, and silently reciting his poems, feeling the feeling of "sadness in the vast land, asking who is in charge of the ups and downs of the vast earth." I suddenly understood that it is not always true that the times make heroes. The real hero does not lie in the times, but in his magnanimity and sense of responsibility.

Did he ever think about returning to his hometown to take over the scale from his father and become a prosperous businessman? Back then, had he ever thought about taking over the teachings from his teacher and becoming a gentleman with many peaches and plums all over the world? Back then, did he want to find an official position to protect his wife? I don’t think he ever considered it! Because he gained insight into the world through his deep thinking, and he felt the joy of hard work in the dark night. Sober and persistent, calm and passionate, meticulous and profound, this is his soul. It is this kind of soul that gives his ordinary life a moving charm!

Walking on Tianzi Mountain, I met another touching soul.

On Tianzi Mountain, which is more than 1,200 meters above sea level, I met him unexpectedly: he was holding a pipe in his hand, with his horse leaning beside him, with a solemn expression and thoughtful eyes. What was he thinking? What is this man thinking, who left his hometown for thirty-five years and never returned until his unjust death? It's not that he has no chance to go back, but he can't move forward. His steps are too heavy and there are thousands of souls weighing on them. There are more than 10,000 Xiangxi disciples who first followed him to participate in the revolution. More than 3,000 people died in the Nanchang Uprising. He How could he forget that when he returned to his hometown after the failure of the uprising, the cheers of the villagers rushing to tell each other suddenly turned into the cry of grief? How could he forget the tens of thousands of people from Xiangxi who were still standing in front of him cheering? And they died on various battlefields for the liberation of the motherland. How should he face his fellow villagers?

This Sangzhi man who rebelled with two kitchen knives has the bloody masculinity of the Xiangxi people in his body, and the Xiangxi people’s sense of shame and righteousness is deep in his soul. Standing in front of his tombstone - a tombstone in the shape of two kitchen knives, standing in front of his bronze statue, I deeply understood the heaviness in his eyes. An ancient saying goes: "If you don't return to your hometown if you are rich, you will be like walking at night in brocade clothes." However, what he pursues is not the fame of a marshal, nor the pride of returning to his hometown to show off his wealth. Whether it is an uprising or revolution; whether he is a bandit or a general, he does not do it for fame and status, but just because of the unwillingness to surrender in his blood. Did he regret it after the revolution was successful? He regretted bringing out so many children from Xiangxi but letting them die in a foreign land. Was he asking the sky again and again why he was the one who sacrificed instead of himself?

How much I want to go back to my hometown, step on the land of my hometown, touch the big trees of my hometown, and taste the "three pots" of my hometown, but how should I face everyone's cheers after I go back? Passion with loved ones? He knew that the people in his hometown could understand and forgive, but he couldn't forgive himself!

In front of his bronze statue, what I saw was not the all-powerful heroic spirit, but a dignified silence. This silence only increased the respect in my heart!

While walking, I also encountered some magical cultures.

Corpse driving is a form of witchcraft culture in Chu. Fallen leaves return to their roots and souls return to their hometown. This is a deep-rooted consciousness among Chinese people. But there are always some people who cannot return to their hometown due to some special reasons, and let their relatives die in a foreign land? No, no matter how high the mountains are or how far the roads are, let your loved ones come back and lie down on the land of your hometown. You can go and sit at the grave when you miss him, and you can pay tribute with your tears during festivals. But how to climb such a high mountain? The coffin cannot be lifted, and the horses cannot carry it. what to do? Let the corpse chaser come, use the talisman to lock the soul between the eyebrows, use the talisman to wake up the corpse, and let the corpse walk over the mountains and ridges towards its hometown and towards its relatives under the driving of the corpse chaser!

The mountains are high and the roads are far away. During the day, they rest at the corpse-carrying inn. At night, the bells and gongs of the exorcists sounded, and every house closed its doors, even the dogs were locked up. At this time, the corpse chasers were one behind the other, with a few corpses jumping forward in the middle. If there were many corpses, they were often strung together with straw ropes - such a team is really scary! But behind its fear lies a warm reason that everyone can understand - a deep nostalgia for the homeland.

Planting Gu is also a kind of witchcraft in Chu. It is said that the most poisonous of all kinds of voodoo is the love voodoo. A person who has been infected by the love poison will itch all over his body if he doesn't go home for a month, will be dying if he doesn't go home for two months, and will die if he doesn't go home for three months. Why is it so poisonous? It turns out that this kind of poisonous insect is caused by the woman using the blood of her ring finger connected to the heart as bait to attract the poisonous insects in the Seven Seven Forty-Nine Mountains, and then letting them fight each other, leaving the last poisonous insect behind, and then feeding the seven seven hundred and forty-nine poisonous insects with the blood. In seventy-nine days, a colorless and odorless voodoo is made, which is then placed in the lover's cup or bowl and eaten by the lover. The voodoo cultivation is successful.

Such a painful process should be due to a sad reason, that is, women often face the fate of being abandoned. Such a painstaking process is just to lock the lover's heart, even at the cost of the other person's death! Is it because the women of Xiangxi also have unyielding and strong blood flowing in their bodies? Because this is clearly a marriage defense battle completed with blood and wisdom!

…………

When Xu Xiake stood on Xianglu Peak, the thick fog was like running water, washing over his body, just like the mountains washing his bones and the sky washing his face. He saw I have reached the illusion of my own soul - no dust, no body, no soul. He asked himself why he came here, where he was going, and where was his end. Finally, he said to himself: "It doesn't matter anymore. What matters is that I am walking between heaven and earth."

Don’t we often ask in our hearts what is the meaning of life? Perhaps, the meaning of life lies in the process of "walking between heaven and earth".

My walking cannot match that of Xu Xiake. I don’t have his magnanimity, his courage and bravery, nor his refined spirit. I just follow the stone steps carved and paved by secular people. I walked down the road step by step, using my strong legs to satisfy the curiosity of my soul's eyes, but in it, I felt the wonder of nature, the richness of culture and the nobility of life.

On a road with great scenery in the Alpine valley, there is a slogan that says "walk slowly and appreciate it." I also want to say something to my soul gently: "walk slowly and appreciate it." How wonderful this world is! ”