Memories of Tibet in Linzhi Clouds One by One

Life is a passer-by, passing by the world, passing by the years, and then looking forward to every tomorrow, to feel every different scenery and per

Memories of Tibet in Linzhi Clouds One by One

Life is a passer-by, passing by the world, passing by the years, and then looking forward to every tomorrow, to feel every different scenery and personnel.

In the evening, the night didn't stop, and the clouds swam to Linzhi, a small Jiangnan in Tibet. The mountains on the edge of Bayi Town are lush and foggy. There is not much prosperity in the town, and it is drizzling. The streets are clean and humid, and the air is fresh and humid. It's just that the destroyer Xuefeng on the plateau is windy and a little cold.

Yun lived by fate, and when he was filming a street scene, he met Jiang Jie, who was soliciting customers in front of the station (online travelers called him Jianghu). Followed Jiang Jie to her family hotel, a few steps away from the station, just opposite the conspicuous Hanting Hotel, a three-story single-family villa with red bricks and white walls.

Chatting with Jiang Jie (about 30 years old at most), I know that she is from Hechuan, Chongqing, and has rented a house and opened a hotel here for many years. Sister Jiang is actually not beautiful, but she is kind and easy-going. She said that she likes quiet places with few people, so she chose to stay in Linzhi, but Yun thinks she is a person with a story.

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Jiang said, "I have a bottle of wine and have something to say to you, but don't spread your heart around." Because you are not the only one with a story! " Yun is just a passer-by, more or less a story-teller, who understands Jiang Jie's loneliness.

Although Jiang Jie posted a piece of paper in every room, "This is the home of cyclists, hikers and backpackers. Please don't doodle in the room. If you do this, you just need to recover the next day and then leave! " Attention. Yun still saw that the powder wall of the inn corridor was densely covered with words, including Chinese characters, Tibetan and even English.

? Yun carefully appreciates the comments written by the donkey friends on the wall of the family hotel, just like the guest book of Maggie Amy's restaurant. It is said that Maggie Amy's guest book has published a book, all of which are the voices of tourists, either sad or happy.

"Hold your hand and accompany you crazy; Kiss the child's eyes and accompany you through eternity. " "If you are not sad enough, you can't fly, but if you don't have a dream, why go far away? I have been wandering, but I have never seen the sea. I thought I forgot, so I lay in your hand. I tried to smile and be strong, and I built a wall alone. It can't compare with the softest moonlight at night. "

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Looking at these touching words, I walked through the depths of the world of mortals and missed the season. Coupled with the personnel in those seasons, although it has long been fixed as a landscape in memory, Yun is still moved by these spoony people who have never met before.

In this vast world of mortals, there are many lovers who are fascinated by love, hurt by love, mistaken by love, and committed to life and death! It suddenly occurred to Yun that this place is also the hometown of the monk Cangyang Jiacuo.

Life is changeable, and good and bad are unpredictable. At night 10, Yun browsed WeChat in bed and suddenly the bed shook. The first reaction of the cloud was an earthquake, and after only a few seconds, it was calm again. Yun quickly put on his coat and was about to go out. Jiang Jie ran upstairs in a panic, saying that it was an earthquake and told Yun to run downstairs quickly.

Cloud took sister Jiang downstairs, and the ground was full of people. In the dark night, many people were in shock and their clothes and shoes were messy. The mobile phone was disconnected for a while. About ten minutes later, someone in Jiang Jie called and learned that there had just been a 7.5-magnitude earthquake in India, and everyone's mood calmed down a little.

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After a while, there were no aftershocks, people gradually dispersed and the clouds returned upstairs. WeChat described the earthquake, and friends in the circle expressed their concern and condolences. A colleague joked, "This is really an unusual trip. Lucky people have their own natural conditions and will not die. " Yi Yunyang smiled and said, "People are on a long road, and life and death are uncertain. I hope to see the sun tomorrow. "

Chatting like this, coupled with the fatigue during the day, Yun fell asleep unconsciously. When I woke up the next morning, I remembered the earthquake last night, picked up my mobile phone and saw more worried inquiries from my relatives and friends. Yun quickly replied in a unified way: "Thank you for your concern and greetings. After a night, it will be all right. The cloud is still alive [shy] [yi tooth]. "

I think it has been raining all night, and the rain is still ringing outside the window. It's ten o'clock, it's still raining, and the clouds are out. Jiang Jie asked Yun where he was going. Yun said he wanted to go to Basongcuo. Sister Jiang saw that the cloud had lost weight, and she was concerned to tell the cloud to wear thicker. The cloud says it won't be cold if you put on another shirt. Sister Jiang turned and took out an umbrella from the room, handed it to Yun and said, "It's raining, take it with you."

? Also tell Yun where to take the bus and how much it costs, which is more convenient and cheaper than the route of netizens. When Yun sat on the bus of Tibetan compatriots to Basongcuo, the rain had stopped, and the hillside in the distance was covered with white fog, just like a fairyland. It's already twelve o'clock sharp and the bus hasn't started yet. Yun is a little worried about getting back to her sister's inn in Bayi River at night.

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To tell the truth, Bayi's food is pure Sichuan style, and Yun's favorite Sichuan pork has been eaten twice, but I still want to eat it. Without the fear of earthquakes, Bayi and Linzhi are really good places for human life, quiet and beautiful.

The Tibetan brothers in the car are wearing wide-brimmed round hats, lively and humorous, can speak Chinese, and happily sing Tibetan songs that Yun can't understand along the way. At half past two in the afternoon, the bus finally arrived in Basong Cuo. When he got off the bus, he imitated the Japanese devil and asked Yun, "What do you do?" Yunxiao replied: "It's a big show." He smiled simply and kindly. When paying, he joked: "Basong measures down 600, you down 60." Yun smiled and paid the money and said, "600 drops don't go, 60 drops go." ?

Basongcuo is known as the small Jiuzhaigou in southern Tibet, and its beauty makes the sea of clouds indescribable. Huangshan returned without looking at Yue, and Jiuzhai returned without looking at the water. Basongcuo's jasper green water is no less than Jiuzhaigou. Throughout the year, her ethereal snow-capped peaks and unpredictable clouds make her beautiful, full of spirituality and mystery, and unattainable holiness.

Basongcuo, also known as Cuogao Lake, means "green water" in Tibetan. The lake is more than 3,700 meters above sea level, and is located in the high gorge and deep valley in the upper reaches of Bahe River, more than 50 kilometers away from Gongbujiangda County, Linzhi. It is a famous holy lake, a sacred place of red religion.

In April, Basongcuo, the peach blossoms are red. There are tall trees all around, some are budding, and some have pulled out fragrant and sticky leaves. Pine and cypress are full of vitality, and very beautiful scenery is brewing day by day.

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The emerald lake is green that clouds have never seen before. Cloudy and desert skies can't hide the towering snow-capped mountains around the lake. Here, I am afraid, is the last most beautiful pure land hidden by the Buddha in the world.

On the way to Basongcuo, sightseeing bus Se kept rolling up the dust. Because a glimpse of her beauty, vulgar tourists come all the way to Wan Li to destroy her peace and tranquility. Its large-scale construction and quick-acting artificial construction have made her not a quiet and filial virgin land.

At this time, in the fading night, thunder rumbled from the top of the mountain not far away, making the bedside tremble slightly. The light and shadow of lightning, if surprised, swept out of the window and suddenly disappeared. Yun curled up in a bed in the attic of a Tibetan compatriot in Basongcuo, covered with a hot grass-green yak blanket and two white and clean quilts, leaning against the bed and remembering words.

? The rain outside the window is tight and loose. The rustle of rain feet knocking on the ground is endless. The clearest thing is the sound of running water on the eaves. It officially began to rain at night, and the clouds are expected to last until tomorrow morning, just like the hotel where Sister Jiang stayed last August/Kloc-0.

The clouds in Basongcuo are coiled around the verdant mountainside all day long, tied together with the snow on the top of the mountain, and inseparable. Because of the change of clouds, the mountains are extremely vivid, and because of the change of clouds, the rain is like Lin Daiyu's tears. When you come, you will come, and you will always drop it several times in one day. At night, it is the most sad.

After thunder accompanied by lightning, there was hail as big as soybeans, followed by heavy rain. Glittering ice particles disappeared on the road in a few minutes and turned into rain. The cement road at the entrance of the scenic spot is wet. Tourists are hiding in cars, and pedestrians have got into shops on both sides.

It's 5: 30 in the afternoon, and the clouds are coming out of Basongcuo Scenic Area. According to the original plan, he will return to Bayi. Yun walked away with an umbrella from Jiang Jie. In the wet and cold rain, he asked back and forth about the chartered cars of several tour groups. They are all afraid of taking risks or breaking the contract and being complained by tourists. They are unwilling to take the cloud to Ba 'an Township.

Because when we get to Ba 'an Township, Yun can stop the bus from Jibugong River to Bayi. Private car rental in Tibet is unwilling to travel in this weather, or the price of car rental is too high for Fuyun to bear.

The cloud was finally trapped in Basongcuo, a five-level scenic spot around the lake under construction. It is said that the air ticket rose to 170 yuan after May Day, and now it is 1 10 yuan.

When it's getting dark, Yun has no choice but to stay here for one night and wait for the bus from Ba Songcuo to Bayi tomorrow morning. When I arrived at the only Basongcuo hotel, it turned out to be full. It seems that the cloud is going to sleep on the street.

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God won't close one door, but he will open another. When Yun was wandering on the roadside, a girl from Zhuo Ma (whose name Yun didn't know for the time being) came over and said in broken Mandarin that her family could stay.

Yun followed her to a row of Tibetan houses not too far from the entrance of the scenic spot, and was blocked by temporary shops. She saw a small red flag in front of the door. Zhuo Ma pointed and said that it was her home. Just 50 yuan for one night. Yun felt sorry and gave one hundred yuan.

Her man is in his twenties, wearing a Tibetan hat and sitting by the iron stove in the living room. Cooking is being done on the stove, and the smell is overflowing. This room is much warmer than the street. A little boy is running back and forth in the living room. Cloud asked him how old he was. The little boy followed Zhuo Ma and said in Chinese that he was three years old. His little hand sticks up two fingers, and his face is black and red, which is very cute.

? Cloud with Zhuo Ma, climbed up the thick wooden ladder covered with red felt and found several houses upstairs. Zhuo Ma took Yun into a small room with two beds and left.

Yun had a rest and went downstairs to eat. When Zhuo Ma met Yun Qi, he smiled politely and said, "I don't mind. Let's have a home-cooked meal together." The tone is the same as Zhuo Ma's, but I can hear the sincerity in my heart. The cloud will naturally not abandon it. The home-cooked food is red oil dumplings, which are delicious. After dinner, Zhuo Ma poured Yun a cup of tea with a disposable paper cup. Yun teased the children to chat with men in Zhuo Ma.

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Cloud asked the main source of income, Zhuomaman said with a wry smile, at ordinary times, do some scenic spot construction, do some sideline, two years of work is not good, didn't make much money, still owe an old debt, so just pull guests to stay, but that's my own house.

Yun carefully looked at the furnishings of the living room, typical Tibetan furniture, a kind and kind photo of a living Buddha hanging on the middle wall, and a beautiful photo frame holding a golden silk hada with auspicious meaning.

At 8: 30 in the evening, the night outside the window is already dark in rainy weather, and it is particularly quiet and peaceful around, and it is still raining. Yun went upstairs to rest in time, got into the warm and thick yak hair bed, browsed WeChat for a while, then wrote some hidden clouds in his notebook, and finally listened to the rain on the porch by the window, and soon entered a dream.

? I did have many broken dreams with the crisp rain, but I couldn't remember the last one, as if my brain had been washed away by the rain on the plateau. In this clean place where fireworks are sparse, the clouds forget the depths of the world of mortals.

Early in the morning, when Yun left, Zhuo Ma's family was still sleeping. Basongcuo was immersed in silence. There is only one breakfast shop by the roadside. Yun went in and asked for two fried dough sticks, a bowl of soybean milk and a salted duck egg. The female boss is frying fried dough sticks outside, and the male shopkeeper serves soybean milk for the cloud carving. His hands are dark and rough, revealing vicissitudes of life and the hardships of making a living.

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Last night's rain, above the mountainside, formed a layer of frost. Clouds, like smoke and fog, wander in the sky of Basongcuo. The moisture in the morning is very cold, and the cloud's bare hands are numb with cold. With an umbrella and his hand in his pocket, Yun walked to Laru Village, which passed by yesterday.

Laru village is at the foot of the mountain beside the highway. Judging from the clouds, it shouldn't be far away. The cloud should be able to get there in half an hour. Listen to the donkey friend who got off here yesterday and said that a grand curtain call ceremony of the Peach Blossom Festival was held here at ten o'clock today.

In the morning, the air in the small field is very fresh. Tibetan free-range mountain pigs, with hedgehog-like hair, dig through the soil with their mouths in search of food. Black and thin yak, leisurely eating grass, everything is so natural and quiet.

There is a school by the roadside, and the children's reading sounds come from far away. A woman in red, with a child carrying a schoolbag, walked in front of the cloud and hurried to school. The cloud takes the snow-capped mountains and schools below as its vision and takes pictures of its own back. The children looked back curiously, and the woman in red turned to urge.

Yun guessed that she should be a school teacher, because she also went to school directly. On the walls on both sides of the school gate, the words "study hard and make progress every day" are written symmetrically. Reminds Yun of the slogan at the school gate when he was a child. There is an illusion of going back to childhood through time and space.

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Children from far away, Tibetan parents riding motorcycles, were sent to the road at the school gate. The two children got off the motorcycle and ran quickly into the school gate. Yun didn't go long before he stopped a bus from Basongcuo to Bayi. "Cloud" said that Laru Village ...

? "Life is long, but it is the cycle of life. If you accompany me for a ride, I will miss you all my life. " Cloud can't remember where this sentence came from. It has been nearly two years since he came back from Tibet. Yun will always remember Jiang Jie's kindness, thoughtfulness and understanding.

Postscript: Only when a person travels to Tibet alone can he meet his best and truest self without any pretense.