Damu in Fuqing: Fog, Rain and Wind in Qingming Festival

"Qingming means that things are clean and clean." During Tomb-Sweeping Day, the sky was clear as water, the ground was bright as a mirror, the air was fresh as washing, and everything was as clean as new. ...

"Pear blossoms are breezy, and tourists come out of the city in spring." Take an outdoor walk on May 3rd, enjoy the valley, listen to the stream, enjoy the colorful clouds, and go for an outing if you want. Go to Damu, Fuqing to smell the breath of spring, touch the spring breeze, and look for the long-lost peace and leisure of the soul.

"Eyes full of gauze and catkins. When the apricot blossoms, it will be sunny and rainy for a while. " The weather forecast says it won't rain, but the days on the seaside and mountains, like children's changeable faces, have changed without warning. When I entered the mountain, it was still misty rain, and the rain-like fog was blown by the soft wind and lingered. When I got off the bus, it was raining all the time. It was not raining, nor was it continuous, but it was dripping, or falling in a straight line, or drifting with the wind.

It is not easy to drive more than 80 kilometers, and the temptation of alpine grassland stretching more than 800 acres has reached Damu. Rain or shine, we should go up and have a look. ...

Climbing the stairs, the happiest and most comfortable thing is that it rains. Falling from the sky, dancing lightly with a silver thread in the wind, the oblique lines of Tang and Song poems fell on the vegetation, rustling like spring silkworms gnawing delicate mulberry leaves, falling on the soil, playing a beautiful melody like the notes beating on the strings, and everything breathed freely in the wind and rain.

The mountains are full of "tea ears" that I liked to pick when I was a child. In an instant, I found the memory of my childhood. I can't help but pick a few pieces and put them in my mouth. I found that I was not myself when I was a child.

The higher you go, the bigger the mountain and the stronger the wind. Clouds are shrouded in fog, so you can't see the farthest, but you can only see the range within a few meters around you. Distant mountains, such as hazy fairyland, flutter with the wind in the interweaving of rain, such as dynamic ink painting, with boundless freehand brushwork, spreading on the plateau grassland. ...

When I climbed to the top of the mountain, it was foggy and wet. There are no undulating grasslands, no jade belt-like mountain roads, and no cows grazing leisurely on the pasture ... Only the whistling cold wind, mixed with cold raindrops, "click ..." Flapped on the grass, the umbrella could not be opened, and people were pushed by the wind and rain, feeling light and wanting to fly. Sheep can't eat grass on the grassland, just like pets, they follow tourists and snatch food from them when they are unprepared, becoming "eating melons and sheep"

Qingming rain is good rain; Damu Mountain Grassland is the largest alpine grassland in Fuzhou. But the wind at the top of the mountain is too "serious" to get into people's arms. It's cold, and my face is blue with cold. The fog was also blown around by the wind, and even the strongest people could not resist it for long. He can only insist on walking on the top of the mountain for a few minutes, unwilling to go down the mountain.

Clear cotton rain, like silver silk spit out by spring silkworms, is still well woven, rows and rows, as crisp as silk. The scenery, fields, lakes and grasslands after the rain are fresh and green. I was so happy to see all this at the foot of the mountain that I stopped and walked into the misty rain with green eyes.

Strolling on the grass by the lake, the green grass is like waves, expressing a slow mood, dancing gently with the wind with rows of rain, like a gentle love song, melodious and melodious, nourishing the fragrance of flowers and plants, rubbing books and poems, and gently shaking the pool of spring dreams. ......

By the pond, a ripe wild raspberry is bright red. After the washing of spring rain, it is more delicate and charming. I couldn't help picking one and taking a bite. There is sweetness in the acid, and the juice with acid comes out. Or the smell of childhood. After eating, I was full of saliva and couldn't stop. Thinking about the children at home, I simply take out the bottles and jars in my backpack and put the red and tender wild fruits into bottles, hoping to bring home the delicious food I had when I was a child and share it with the children.

On my way back to Fuzhou from Damu, I passed Shang Ling Village and Guang Yun Village, two ancient villages full of stone rhyme. I can't help going in and admiring those singing stones.

The two villages are like isolated Xanadu, with simple folk customs and beautiful, maintaining the most primitive appearance and guarding homesickness. Stone steps, stone buildings, stone walls and stone houses can be seen everywhere ... They are scattered around the mountain like a stone world.

Walking in the village, the ancient trees in the distance stand quietly at the entrance of the village. Ancient buildings show vicissitudes everywhere, and you can touch the rough skin and chapped wrinkles of stone houses with your fingertips.

Like many old villages, young people moved to the city to live and study for their children, leaving all the old people behind. During their stay in Tomb-Sweeping Day, everyone went back to their long-lost village and parked their car on the main road ... Although the stone house was still the same, after worshipping the ancestors and sweeping the grave, they put azaleas picked from the mountains in front of their homes, and some of them left the village without even pushing the door open.

The village is quiet and lifeless again. The stone house is still there, but the village is not the original village. Only the ancient trees at the entrance of the village are strongly guarding this piece of tranquility that belongs to them.