Listen to the voice prose in the depths of the desert

Ice ditch, where I was born. Because of my familiarity with life, I lack curiosity and spirit of inquiry. It's like watching the old people in the village sunbathe peacefully, calmly and quietly under the wall in winter. When walking in front of him, I often feel the wordless vicissitudes of his years. It is to taste the quiet beauty of life contained in the vicissitudes of life, and to open up the beauty of time in this quiet beauty.

Although this is a very close and familiar face, the distance between heart and heart is so distant and strange. Just like the land under my feet-the soldier ditch in my hometown.

Understand the ice ditch, starting with a stone tablet engraved with words, which is either high or short, or square or round. Broken stone tablets bear the glory and pride of the past, words and lanterns of wisdom, illuminating the two thousand years from the beginning of the ice ditch: wind, frost, rain and snow, ups and downs of life. Its iron horse awakened my numbness caused by familiarity The dusty story of the ice ditch boils like water in my heart.

I entered the ice ditch on February 12 in early spring this year. At seven o'clock in the morning, I took a bus with a group of outdoor enthusiasts and arrived at Xigoukou of the ice ditch. Get off and start crossing the ice ditch from east to west.

Although the early spring in the north is sunny and the sky is high and the clouds are light, with the afterglow of the cold winter, the temperature is still chilly and the cold wind blows gently, which makes people feel warm and cold at first.

This is the fifth time I have participated in outdoor activities in the past two years. With the previous hiking experience, I no longer stare at the world in front of me in a few square meters as before-bypassing the rubble and dead branches at my feet and rushing forward to the predetermined lofty goal with all my strength. I can't wait to enjoy the mountain that has been touched by people's eyes for countless times as soon as possible and feel its charm praised to the extreme by people's gorgeous language. But when we reached the top of the mountain-people are at the highest point of the mountain, although "the sky is high and I am the peak", "other mountains are dwarfed in the world." It adds a little heroism, but it also adds a regret. This kind of regret comes from the dim eyes in the distance, which is the regret of comparing high with low and low with high from different perspectives: looking up at the stalwart of the mountain from the foot of the mountain, the shock of the stalwart to the soul is vague and shocking; Overlooking the vastness of the world below the mountain from the top of the mountain, vastness is the nourishment of the vague soul. Oil is like water, but it can't blend. It is impossible to truly and delicately taste and experience the profound taste contained in nature. At the time of feeling, an old donkey friend said to me, "hiking is not in a hurry. Don't be too focused on the purpose." Calm down and take your time. We should not only appreciate the grass, flowers, trees, stones and streams around us, but also have time to look at the sky and flowing clouds overhead. Learn to discover beauty and appreciate it, not in a hurry, so that your trip will slow down, elegant and beautiful. This is the purpose of hiking. "

So, this time I walked slowly with my donkey friend Eiko, who likes photography. In the ravine where the ice ditch is developed, I leisurely admire the ingenuity of the ice ditch, listen to the killing sound of Gujingo's impact transmitted by the wind, and imagine the intense scene of the roaring drums and the spectacular battlefield of hunting with flags. A quiet world is full of beautiful melodies because of the sound of heartbeat.

Ice ditch is a long ditch where Meng Tian, the "general" of the Tang Dynasty, was stationed, and it has been a ditch with stories flowing for hundreds of years.

Time has precipitated everything, including the killing of Jin Ge and the neighing of horses. The soldier's ditch, which is less than five kilometers long and washed by rain, is more peaceful in this season. Desolate and serene, calm and rich, deep and graceful. After walking for more than half an hour, several scenes left by filming came into view. These ancient soldiers' camps, pavilions and fences restored according to history make me feel like I am among the 300,000 troops led by Meng Tian, a general of the Qin Dynasty-there are ancient soldiers who fought bloody battles in the raging desert, and there is or is no war. They rest together, plow together in the open desert and are self-sufficient. I can't help admiring and imagining the first emperor in the world, Qin Shihuang. He was ambitious, unified China, stood by the river and meditated on the world.

In this atmosphere, the first Tang poem was opened from my memory and recited. Brown thorn grass, accompanied by an unknown shrub, clung to the sand beside the ditch and listened intently. The thick green leaves of the bush, as big as a gray thumb, fluttered in the wind, just like praising and reciting, appreciating my free and easy. The ice at the bottom of the ditch is covered with clusters of reeds that withered last year, although they are all dead. Like a soldier with a clanking iron frame. The smell of wormwood is the most passionate speech of this desert in this season, strong and long. I think there must have been a soldier guarding the border here in the past, playing a thought-provoking song with a homemade reed flute. How can this miserable land be so affectionate?

The spring in the ice ditch is like this: abundance and simplicity are connected, civilization and wildness are connected, and suffering and dreams are connected.

Out of the ice ditch, it's almost eleven o'clock, the endless Mu Us desert. Sky: blue and clear; Earth: vast and boundless. Stepping on the eternal peace symphony in the desert, one kilometer out of the ice ditch, I saw a cement monument lying on the ground-it had been cut in half-about one meter and eight meters, and it read: "Ruins of the Ancient Battlefield of Hunhuaiguan". Hunhuaiguan, 40 kilometers west of Yinchuan, is one of the main military cities defended by Qinsai River. From the Qin Dynasty to the early Tang Dynasty, after 836 years of glory, it suddenly disappeared without a trace. In the history of more than 2000 years, there is a breakpoint where time cannot be connected. Countless stones, ancient bricks and rubble on the vast land look blank and have no words-even a few numbers and the simplest records can make people find its once prosperity and Excellence, but unfortunately there is nothing at all, so I decided. Just like Venus' broken arm, it leaves people with endless reverie and melancholy.

At twelve noon, we rested on the sand dunes. Facing the vast desert, I am thinking: in this desolate and magical land, can the ideal city also appreciate the vitality of Confucianism and make progress in joining the WTO? Familiar with Taoist obedience, birth, old age, illness and death?

In a quiet world, all questions and answers will be quiet.

The wind is very hot. The golden sand dunes are undulating and the sand is warm and pleasant. Lying on the sand dune, I suddenly feel that every grain of sand is a tent for the soul, and the souls of those ancestors rest in it. Otherwise how can there be such warmth in the sand? How does the sand and stone in the wind destroy decay? How can there be such a lofty and diluted sky?

After the break, move on. We arrived at the Yellow River at two in the afternoon. The Yellow River is still the ancient Yellow River, turbid and swift. Walking through mountains and plains; Through oases and deserts. From the moment people saw it, all this became the history of the Yellow River, which continued to go away and headed for the quiet sea. Peace is the home of all souls, including people. So the Yellow River is very calm, very calm. It has no music score-it doesn't need music score. It knows that every life is an original and most beautiful chapter, enough to play and sing for a lifetime. Thus, the Yellow River has come and gone freely from ancient times to the present, from far to near, spontaneously without indulgence.

The sun and the moon are ancient and modern, and the Yellow River has footprints. Although in the long March of the years, the ancient city of Hunhuai Zhang disappeared, the camp of the ice ditch disappeared, and our ancestors left, but time feeds history with invisible red dust and nourishes it more and more fertile. When Qin days and months shone on this land, I saw countless grasses and flowers growing, opening and endless from the fertile soil of history day and night. Pay homage to the past and bless the future. The world is vivid and beautiful because of this. Cycle after cycle.

At this time, it is 5: 10, and there are still 20 minutes before the end of the walk at 5: 30. At this time, someone flew a kite. The clear sky in the desert is more beautiful. It is this world full of ancient meanings that makes it bright and smart. Life can be so romantic, free and easy and elegant.

At six o'clock, the return bus started, and the story in the desert shook in my heart with the bus. I think if the Mu Us Desert is a desperate person, the soldier's ditch must be a green blood vessel inserted by the God of Nature. Otherwise, how can we see a vibrant world today?