I thought that autumn was gradually approaching, and it should be the season of fruitfulness and fruitfulness, but today there was a heavy rain without any warning. Luck does not come from growing hard, just like the withered and scattered sunflowers on the balcony.
I like sunflowers and have planted many. Occasionally, I will pick some new stems and leaves into another pot. Their vitality is particularly strong, and new branches and leaves can always grow from other flower pots. But after all, it is something in a pot, and the nutrients it can absorb are limited.
I live seriously, feel the air and sunshine carefully, appreciate the tension that rain and dew bring to life, cherish the fragrance of soil, and don’t waste every second, and I will not always lose. This time I will usher in the best change.
It may be sunny or rainy sometimes, but actually the weather is good not far away. I think of a poem: With your hands planted in the fields, you can see the sky in the water when you lower your head. Only when the six roots are pure can you find the way. Going back is actually going forward. This is a limerick written by a Budai monk in the Tang Dynasty. It has also been translated into a Buddhist song version, which is very nice.
I watched the movie "Kekexili" on Sunday. The name always seems to be romantic, but the actual feeling of being in it is not as beautiful as the name, and what is out of reach always arouses people's imagination.
I had watched this movie before setting foot on the Qinghai-Tibet Plateau. At that time, I naturally couldn’t understand the vicissitudes of life buried in the wind and moon. But after setting foot on Tibet and Xinjiang many times in the past few years, I really love this vast land. When I watched this movie again, I was moved by almost every shot and picture.
I walked through the Qiangtang, Hoh Xil, lakes and lakes, ancient city ruins and picked up historical remains, crawled on the ground and licked dried salt shells in Lop Nur, and looked at the brown-gray outline of the Altyn Mountains. These uninhabited lands are really primitive, just like the line in "Kekexili": Every step you take may be the first footprint in human history.
No one likes cruelty, and I don’t like the feeling of chapped lips, stinging nostrils, tired and heavy body, and every breath being rare and difficult. Maybe it's just that in a society full of flowers, we are gradually getting bored and looking for ways to stimulate ourselves. If someone were to stay here forever, it would definitely be more torturous than hell.
For the first time seven years ago, I saw the vast Hoh Xil through the hazy window on the train to Tibet. Even though the train has an oxygen concentrator and heating, at an average altitude of more than 4,500 meters on the section from Wudaoliang to Tanggula Pass, most passengers are drowsy, half-closing their eyes uncomfortably, and saying nothing.
Altitude sickness and the shock of being in a thousand-mile uninhabited land for the first time was far more than a splitting headache. I saw a world I had never seen before, and I could not imagine that such an incredible world existed on this planet. The train flew by, and I looked at the endless vastness outside the window, the desolation that makes people forever too small to be worth mentioning, and it made me burst into tears. I was immature at that time and looked at the unknown world eagerly like a child, curious about its vastness and indifference.
Then I drove across the Qinghai-Tibet Line again. I was finally able to stop, walk on, and feel the dry, cold and thin air. As usual, I was so high that I couldn’t stop vomiting and had a splitting headache. The broadness and indifference that nature shows to me actually makes people feel the power of equality among all living beings. Unlike the turbulent world, they are sharp, aloof, arrogant, and self-righteous. They can turn things around, turn clouds and rain upside down, and shout proudly after surviving the storm.
Actually, it’s really not the case. The reason why they are so arrogant is just material packaging, such as a spotless Mercedes-Benz, high-end suits and watches, and exquisite makeup. All of these are capital for people to gain confidence and even pride.
If you throw them all here, they will definitely not live as well as me, and I will definitely not survive the Tibetan antelope.
This is an extremely simple world. The more complicated it becomes, the less likely it is to survive.
Chaos first emerged. This planet grew from poisonous gases everywhere and the scorching heat of volcanic eruptions. The formation of the atmosphere blocked the excessive ultraviolet rays and prepared an environment for the birth of life. Mononuclear cells continued to evolve, amino acids were constantly deconstructed and combined, and soft-bodied organisms gained vitality. Everything grew hungrily from infancy.
With plants, vertebrates, birds and animals, they grew bigger and bigger, including dinosaurs of more than ten meters and towering trees of tens of meters. Then their size finally exceeded the gravity of the earth itself. Animals and plants began to become smaller, and primates began to appear. They began to become smarter and smarter, making tools, learning to store, and forming classes. Material exchange formed an economy, and there were also disputes.
Conflicts began, and the expansion of the population evolved into wars; in order to win opportunities and land, wars became strategies, with weapons, and then expanded into weapons. When the struggle reached an end, they invented intimidation, deterrence, soft power, and secret contests; hypocrisy, politics, and methods were derived from the wrestling; all of this was growing rapidly, and one year's development now far exceeds the previous 10,000 and 100 million years.
None of this has penetrated into the vast primitiveness of Qinghai-Tibet. If this land has a soul, it must be as surprised by these changes as a spectator, but it will go its own way calmly and calmly.
No matter how developed the tourism industry is, it will never penetrate into these places. The power of nature cannot be changed by some law or slogan, nor can it be reversed by the power of an extremely wealthy country.
I looked into the distance in the uninhabited land of Qiangtang. The Tanggula Mountains were like a thin white wavy line, faintly visible and suddenly invisible. On the other side of the mountains is Hoh Xil. I looked at the Altun Mountains in Lop Nur, and there was another auburn wavy line, the same faintly visible and then invisible, and the other side of the mountains was also Hoh Xil.