Walk through the Zoige grassland

Some people walk just to walk, while others walk just to forget.

My walk is to pick up the forgotten memories one by one. A friend once advised me not to write those dark and deadly words, but to yearn for an ordinary life. I can drink some wine, play mahjong, or soak in a teahouse ... but I still didn't accept such a suggestion. Words and I have become an indispensable part of life.

I went to Gannan, Longnan and Aba twice a few years ago for work reasons. After the earthquake in 2008, I also went to Jiuzhaigou with several classmates. Especially on 20 1 1, I went to Labuleng Temple in Gannan, Luqu and Maqu, and went to the First Bay of the Yellow River in Tangke Town, ruoergai county. Standing at the top of the plank road overlooking, the clear and calm river flows quietly on the grassland, winding from a distance, as smooth and tender as a ribbon, which is still fresh in my memory.

This year's holiday, some friends met and finally set foot on a trip to Gannan, Longnan and western Sichuan again. Nine people in the same company. Two Toyota SUVs. Lao Zhu introduced it to everyone. At first glance, it was all people. Except editor-in-chief Chen, I am old, which makes me feel a little sad. In Lanzhou, Guo's relatives have already booked lunch, and a table is very rich. But because the weather is very hot, I eat very little. After eating, I stood at the door of the store and waited for a drink. After a short stay in Lanzhou, I continued to drive to Xiahe. All the scenery is familiar to me, so I'm too lazy to see it. When I woke up, I arrived at Xiahe, and the time was more than 5 pm. Now is the tourist season, and there are many pedestrians on the street. A friend of mine works here, but unfortunately he doesn't have a mobile phone number and can't get in touch. So I called my partner Yang and asked her to book a hotel for Xia He's friends. From the whole trip, I stayed in Xiahe, which was the best hotel in the whole trip, but at that time I thought it was already the most humble hotel I had ever stayed in. But not unhappy. Accompany Zhu to the bar to register, and the red brick bar is covered with photos taken by the boss himself. There is a simple bookshelf next to it, and some books about travel, history and philosophy are scattered on it. I took a book and read it casually.

The night in Xiahe River is very cold, and the wind blows on me, which is cool. We walked around the Daxia River and were caught in a heavy rain, which drove us back to the hotel. In the hall, I saw some go on road trip tourists from the south. These people you meet along the way will often meet in the future. Smile.

After a simple dinner, lie in bed and rest. But I still have insomnia. Listening to Zhu's even breathing in the middle of the night, I feel at ease and quiet, vaguely thinking of some distant cities and people, like a long black and white movie, vaguely and slightly sad.

The next morning, after a simple breakfast, we went to Labrang Temple. Labrang Temple is one of the highest Buddhist institutions in the Gelug Sect of Tibetan Buddhism, and its meridian corridor is the highest in the world. His designs remind me of ancient castles, red clay buildings, ancient wooden doors and iron locks. Long alleys, except the chapel and the White Pagoda, are mostly houses where lamas live. Only Tibetans with prayer wheels and beads are passing by, that is, the Lama in red. They looked gloomy and turned a blind eye to us. So quiet. Some Tibetans who visited the shrine knelt down, unable to bend down, got up, knelt down and went back and forth three times, then got up and stood. The sense of security that has nothing to do with the world and is immersed in your own world makes people unconsciously moved.

Before coming to Gannan, I read a book about Tibet. Those casual words hit a certain part of my body, but I can't explain it. I think maybe in my heart, the author and I are both people who long for silence.

There are two roads to langmusi. One goes to cooperate via national highway 2 13. The other one goes to langmusi via Xiahe Airport and National Highway 2 12. The first one left, and the last one didn't know how to get there. I called Yang, who was cooperating, and she said that the road at Xiahe Airport was narrow, but the scenery was unique. So we started from Xiahe County, entered the mountain through Airport Road and went to A Mu. Then we went along the national highway 2 13, passed Gahai and Gomba, and arrived in langmusi.

Along the way, the sky was blue and the sun was shining. There are also clouds between the distant ridges, which cover the peaks. But it can't hide the beauty and magnificence of the scenery along the way.

Between heaven and earth, houses with white walls and red roofs in twos and threes are filled with smoke and rivers. The dense grass stretches out of sight like a thick carpet.

Days on the grassland, children's faces, are always changing. It was sunny just now, and now it is cloudy. After Zhadai, the rain gradually increased and the road surface was smooth and slippery. Editor Chen's hope of taking pictures on the grassland was dashed. Zhu has been reminding the driver to slow down and then slow down. I was in the car silently thinking about things that happened a long time ago. Over the years, sometimes I will talk endlessly. Sometimes I can keep silent for days on end. And I face myself every day, just like facing an isolated world, where there is always a movie with no ending, a black-and-white silent film. Me and my own movies, silent and profound. On-site handover, the characters appeared in turn. The only constant is me sitting under the stage, watching my smile wither slowly on the stage until it disappears.

A heavier rain came, and it made a clear sound on the window. There was no sound except the sound of raindrops, and silence began to speak. Looking through the window, on the road, there are also people riding bicycles in the rain, wearing thin raincoats, taking their time and walking alone. I was deeply impressed by their courage and courage. There are also old people wearing Tibetan clothes walking on the road. They look at others and only have the direction of travel in their hearts. As soon as the bus passed through A Mu, it soon reached Nimalong and Luqu. The rain also stopped. There is a river that keeps going along a certain road. I don't know what its name is. Look at the map, it's not marked.

At the end of the curve, the car was blocked and we stopped. Everyone is going to langmusi. A short middle-aged man stood in front of our car and said there was an accident ahead. Three cars collided, but they have moved away and will pass soon. So, we stood in the cold wind and waited patiently. In about 20 minutes. The road was finally clear, and we continued to drive to our destination.

Gahai, perhaps the freshwater lake with the highest altitude, is clear, but it rains again soon, and nothing can be seen outside the window. In Gomba, the rain stopped again, and some herdsmen's houses and schools were built on both sides of the road. White walls, red tiles and golden roofs are dazzling. On the way home, we met a group of children. They were wearing lovely Tibetan costumes, headscarves, masks and bulging schoolbags. There are also a few wild boars walking slowly on the road, no one is watching, and they are self-centered.

The time to arrive in langmusi is after 2 pm. Solve everything. Decided to have lunch together. Zhu and I found a place to eat along the street. The place for lunch is a snack street opened by Sichuanese. I ordered some stir-fried dishes and rice. The food gives off a rich fragrance, which makes people satisfied. While we were eating, a young Tibetan man, with a dark face, slapped the board in his hand as soon as he entered the door and said something difficult to understand. I was miserable and gave it to 10 yuan. Think of Zhang ailing's famous sentence: that desolate gesture has nothing to say.

Langmusi is not a temple, but the name of the town. Bailong River crosses Xiure Valley Ranch and crosses the street with the ancient coolness of snow-capped mountains. In the depression, Langmusi Town is divided into two parts, one in Gansu and the other in Sichuan. Gerdi Temple, langmusi and Mosque, which are much higher than residential buildings, all belong to the residence of God, and the smoke rising from the roof is still filled with fireworks.

We decided to climb the mountain instead of staying here. There are five-color prayer flags fluttering in the wind on the mountain. It is said that prayer flags exist to deliver scriptures. Every time the wind blows, the Tibetan scriptures on the prayer flags will drift away with the wind. And I think there are always some things that cannot be passed down. Those thoughts that have no purpose. We walked slowly to avoid altitude sickness. When we approached Ma Canyon in southern Tibet, we also met a foreigner who had just come down from the canyon. Young couple, three lovely children. From behind them, you can see the rolling mountains, and the gray rocks are exposed, which looks like snow-capped mountains from a distance. Standing between heaven and earth, vigorous and barren. Behind it is red cliff.

The wind on the plateau, with hot air, blows through the valleys of mountain plains and whispers on the curved grass. On the way, I passed a hut where the Mani wheel was placed. An old lady sat in the oblique sunshine and quietly turned over the classics. We didn't bother her. How many years have passed? Nobody remembers it clearly. Mothers always warm up in scripture with milking hands.

After arriving at the source of Bailong River, we didn't go deep into the canyon and decided to return. In fact, there is another place worth mentioning and seeing in langmusi. This is the main hall dedicated to the Buddha. However, due to the opposition of my peers and time constraints, I came twice and missed it. In fact, only Tibetans can treat death calmly, because they have the religious ideal of soul circulation. Driven by the tide of modernization, they did not lose themselves, but chanted and turned over the scriptures under the constraint of faith. They are people who live in another world. And we have been kidnapped in the tree of longing for wealth and power, and the flowers that bloom occasionally have been confined to the love between men and women and are dying.

Walk along the long stone steps and earth slopes, walk past pagodas and temples, and slowly experience the artistic conception. Many children in Lama costumes ran past us. These children, snot and ultraviolet rays, left a dark red forever on their tender little faces. His family sent him to the Lama Temple and devoted his life to the coffin without reservation. Children of this age should be sitting in the classroom instead of chanting under butter lamps. For them, this is a simple world.

It rained again, and we quickly ended the last stop of Zhaimu Temple and moved on. The smiles of Tibetans, the little lamas don't belong to the calm of that era, and the unhappiness about life is fixed in this sunny afternoon in langmusi. ...

And that past has also become a section I have been playing back, full of memories of colorful flags, wind horse flags, Lama Temple, Manidui and so on.