The mountain day

The mountain is a mountain that existed millions of years ago. It looks like it from the beginning, and it is still today. The child grows longer every year. It is said that the mountain will grow longer. It is not known how high it is today. Who can say so accurately?

Quiet, it is the mountain that gives me the deepest impression. On the wheat field in the country, or in the yard of the house, or from the large window glass of the office on the eighth floor, the mountain is always so quiet. It seems that the noise of his own noise is offensive and disrespectful to it.

This mountain is very common and is one of the many mountain systems on the planet. But this mountain is not ordinary. It is not common to say that in the hinterland of Asia and Europe, it stands out, with things stretching for 2,500 kilometers, and the widest place in the north and south is 800 kilometers.

The mountain is not only a mountain, but the most important thing is that there is snow on the mountain. This is a very expensive thing. It is a bit cheesy to say that it is milk. In fact, the river that originated from the mountain stream nourishes the entire Eurasia. So, a little People with a common sense of geography can understand, so it is not too much.

It is too big, I look at it from one of its sections, to be precise, from the Bogda Mountain in the eastern Tianshan Mountains.

More often, I and the people around me pointed to the mountains of Bogda when they said the mountains.


Nearly, it was my childhood understanding of the mountains. I felt that it was very close to me, and I caught it with a high hat. I said it was a hat, and some of the partners said it was the crown. The three high peaks are like the crown of the queen in the mythology.

After a spring rain, I ran to it on a three-four-meter-wide country road. I wanted to take off the crown and put it on my head. At this time, I am eight years old, I can wear it, ride the red horse raised by my grandfather, and go further afield.

I imagine wearing a silver crown, riding a noble horse, I am a noble princess.

At the end of the path is the mountain. As long as you continue along the path, you will be able to get there. I have never doubted that there will be another way to get there.

Mountain, watching is not far away, according to my physical strength, I can run there completely, my excited eyes, shining silver. I believe that I have been blessed by the mountain gods, and I will not be attacked by the beasts, but will climb to the top of the mountain. Although I have already heard Grandpa say that there are snow leopards, wolves, bears, and wild boars. It sounds terrible, I have never seen them, and I have no fear of them.

It’s not these beasts that stop me, it’s a river with colorful stones. I am no stranger to this river. My mother often comes here to pick up water. I also play and catch fish in the river.

I stumbled, the river was like an angry, clear river, how chaotic yellow, roaring voice, scared me, in panic, I stepped back.

If it wasn’t for this river to stop me, I would be able to run to the mountain. I am very convinced about this.

I was sitting on a green stone not far from the river. I think, maybe after a while, the river will return to its original state, so I can cross the river. Water is at most to my knees, even if it is a little higher, as long as I can cross the river.

I held my chin in my hands and looked at the eyes of the mountain and asked if it would wait for me and asked if it would run away. I didn’t see it for a long time, I was a little anxious, crying and crying. The docile river has bullied me, then you have to bully me. I put my head on my knees and cried louder.

I don’t know if my cry is disturbing the river. The sound of the roaring river is actually getting smaller. I stood up and ran to the river again. Suddenly, there were two semi-circular colored ribbons on the top of the mountain.

I can’t take care of my feet and go straight to the river. I can’t wait any longer. It’s so big. I saw two ribbons for the first time. It’s usually one more. What are you hesitating?

At that moment, I felt like a horse, a brave pony! I have never feared anything, just want to go forward.

In fact, when I first stepped into the river, I was overthrown by the raging river, rolled into the yellow river, and went down the river. I could not shout and struggle. The body lost weight and was as light as the butterfly’s wings.

When a big and powerful hand hugged my body, I couldn’t speak.

I don’t know how long it took. When I woke up, I was on a bed of white sheets, standing by the bed, grandfather, mother and so on.

They are uneasy about this face, which I can read. They always don’t trust me. It seems that like the kittens and puppies at home, after I ran out, I was always worried that I would be taken away, or I could not find my way home.

I am eight years old, how can I be like cats and dogs? I can’t figure it out, this kind of worry. Secretly laugh at them. Of course, they can’t be seen and seen, and they will say that I am stupid.

I am not stupid, I know that. If I am stupid, I will be like the one who eats garbage in the village. But I never casually licked things on the ground. Why do they say that I am stupid?

Someone called her mother to work in the field. Grandpa stayed with me.

After the liquid was lost, Grandpa picked me up. His fingers are thin, but they are very powerful. I climbed on Grandpa’s shoulder and wanted to go horse riding. Then he said to Grandpa.

Grandpa patted my body and said, stupid girl, so weak, but also riding? It’s really hard to kill. After a few days, Grandpa took you to the horse, do you say where to go?

really? I ask.

When did Grandpa fool you? Tell me.

Think about it, Grandpa really talks. Take me to the county town to collect, take me to the provincial city People’s Park to take a Trojan, take me to the farther Dongshan to dig wild garlic.

Well, take me to pick up the crown, I want to wear it on my head.

Said, I raised my right hand to the white Bogda Mountain.

It is always there, day or night. Whether it is spring or winter. It seems that it has been waiting for me to come.

Grandpa’s gaze followed my hand and only stayed for a few seconds. His eyes fell back on my face and laughed. The laughter of the river is like a happy statement, and it’s caught in the wind.

Grandpa’s smile cut my good mood and I cut my head, and I put my hand in my pocket. I don’t want to see my eyes. At that moment, I was a little sad. My closest grandfather did not understand my mood. I just want a crown, I don’t want a pink dress, red shoes. Why are you laughing at me?

When you think about it, your eyes will get hot. Whenever this time, tears are not invited. I can’t control it, it never listens to me. I want to come.

Tears flowed down from the eyelids, and slammed into the blue scorpion on Grandpa’s shoulder. I sobbed a little and made my grandfather feel bad. Grandpa softly said that he would go to Hongshan Shopping Mall next time and buy a hair clip for you. It must look good. That crown, don’t worry, you are still small, wait until you grow up, say.

I have grown up, I said a tear.

Well, you are growing up, wait a little longer to get there. You look very close, in fact, it is far away, it takes several days to get in the car. Grandpa said.

I am a bit skeptical about this answer to Grandpa. I am not afraid that I will fall into the river.

I took my grandfather back to the house and climbed up the roof along the wooden ladder. This is the highest place in the family. This is not afraid of the tree blocking my view, you can see the mountain more clearly.

At this time, I feel that the mountain is a bit like a grandfather, kindly calm. I can clearly see a variety of wrinkles on the face, and a piece of shadow spots of different sizes, like the age spots on Grandpa’s face.

Is it really like Grandpa, then will it be sick and hospitalized like Grandpa? Will it die like a neighbor’s grandfather and be buried in the high hills of Dongshan.

Suddenly I was worried about the cleansing of Bogda Peak.

This kind of worry made me open my eyes and wanted to see it. Get up in the morning and fly to the yard to see it safe and sound, then go to dinner with peace of mind, carrying a school bag to go to school.

When I was blowing the wind, I worried again and would not wrap it away. Heartbeat. Until the wind stops, look at it well, I will sleep hard.

Such fears have been accompanied by spending the entire childhood.

The days passed, the mountains did not change, and I grew up. The trees in the yard are tall,


From the Baiyang River in the Midong District, I went up the stone wall in Dushanzi Village. I saw many rock paintings. The images of rock paintings are mostly animals, horses, sheep, dogs, cattle, deer and so on.

Such rock paintings are scattered throughout the Tianshan Mountains, and the rock paintings of the Bogda Mountains are part of it.

If you don’t look carefully, it’s hard to find traces of these paintings. More than 3,000 years of wind erosion and sun exposure, the original bright appearance has long been stolen by time. If you encounter water, the vivid and vivid picture will jump out. If you are not sure, it will scare your eyes.

One year, when I arrived here with the writers and photographers who took the time, it was already noon, but the sun was not big. Sprinkle some of the water in the mineral water bottle, and a scene of a thousand-day nomadic life flows into the line of sight. Many people are as excited as I am, their eyes are firmly locked in the picture, and from time to time they hear people screaming.

The sheep in the painting have curved corners, and the beards are floating, strong and fat, and the image is realistic. It is not difficult to see that this is a northern goat.

There is also a picture depicting a shepherd who pulls a bow and arrow, his body leans forward slightly, bends his bow and arrows, and seems to be shooting a fawn that stops in fear.

Each picture has a story. The original creators of these paintings are the Cypriots who were once active in the Tianshan Mountains. This nomadic tribe, once a sacred man, I got a little bit of information from the archaeological literature. They wear high hats, like gold ornaments, brave and good-looking Cypriots, living by the grass, the rolling hills of the mountains, and the rivers flowing down the river, where they live, can be described as natural blessings.

Today, Kazakh herders living here have moved from Altay in the north, and have a history of more than 100 years.

I am curious as to whether the Cypriots have lived here in this nomadic past. Do you leave the cemetery in addition to these rock paintings? There must be more information about the Cypriots there.

When I visit the herdsmen in a long and short ditch, I will ask about the situation. Most of them are shaking their heads. Of course, the news from the cultural relics department is that the tomb was discovered here, but it is not a Cypriot.

So where did these Cypriots go? I asked again. Looking through the information, it was learned that the ancient Gusse people in Xinjiang were conquered by other tribes in the long history and gradually integrated into other ethnic groups. Today, the Tajik people in Tashkurgan, Xinjiang, are descendants of the Gusser species.

It’s been more than three thousand years, and it sounds far away. I don’t think so. After the first autumn rain, I stepped on the stone mountain with the rock painting again.

Before a rock painting with horses, I stopped and looked at it for a while. The legs were a little sleepy. I simply crouched down and sat on a mossy stone next to the rock painting, which was moist and soft. The horse on the rock headed, the front hoof leaped, and the spirit was excitable. I think this is a young stable, so it is so arrogant. Looking at it, I laughed, as if I was a veteran Soma, only one glance, I knew all the information about the horse.

In the village, my grandfather feeds the horse, a dozen horses, and I am familiar with it.

I used to work in the local largest live animal trading market, where I saw more horses. However, there is still a gap between the real Xiangma people. It cannot be said that knowing the horse’s character is familiar with the horse. There is a university here.

Horse, I have been riding. Initially my grandfather took me. Later, I rode a horse by myself. The horse feels like flying, and it has a dreamy feeling. This is a horse. So what if it is tens of hundreds of horses, or hundreds of thousands of horses flying at the same time?

These Cypriots, no, and those nomads who are accompanied by horses, are free and unrestrained in the horse’s bearing, free and easy, and naturally integrated into the blood. No matter how long, the gene’s powerful reproductive ability will make this Quality, inherited from generation to generation.

Wanma is rushing and full of momentum. Whether it is 3,000 years ago or today, it will also touch people’s hearts and touch people’s souls. People must have a spirit, and they must first learn from the horse. At that moment I had such a shallow epiphany.

Suddenly, a humming horse pulled me back from the imagination of the rock painting. I turned to look for the sound and went. An eleven-year-old boy, riding a black and shiny horse, at the foot of the mountain, cast a look at me.

I raised my hands, put it on my mouth, made a trumpet, and said loudly, I am watching the horse!

The black-haired horse turned around and the horse turned to the side. The look seemed to say that the living horse did not look at it. It was inexplicable to see a horse that could not breathe.

There are so many wonderful things, far more than these rock paintings.

I came down from the mountain and followed a small path to the Shuimo River.

Putting the shoes aside, barefoot into the river, cold into the bones, heart suddenly slammed together, just for a while, after adjusting to water temperature, it felt extremely comfortable.

When the soles of the feet stepped on the pebbles of different sizes and colors, I felt that time was back with the water and returned to the era when Genghis Khan’s Mongolian army marched westward. His son Chahar operated his own tribe on the fief. On the high hills, a bag of colorful prayers was built. In the past, a grand lama temple was built on a flat dam. For a time, the incense was so prosperous that the quiet mountain bay was alive. Riding, chasing, walking people, on the days they think are important, they must come to the Bodhisattva with fragrant incense, make a wish, pray for the protection of Bodhisattva, and pin their own spirit.

This process lasts for a day or two, and more than three or five days. They packed up their bags, fed the horses, and took the sunset, the stars, and went to their respective pastures one by one.

Time continues to move back. Looking at the moon, the poetry of the Tianshan Li Bai, horseshoe gallop, long whip flying, he is not lonely, the mountains and rivers, the red sunset, all trigger his emotions, the poems of the famous poems have been passed down to this day.

The soldiers of the Navy who are guarding the Western Region must climb over the Tianshan Mountains and cross the river from a gully in Tianshan, such as the Shuimo River, from east to west, or from south to north, to convey the dynasty’s will.

The smoky fire of the sky, the buttery lamp of the station, the turret of the ancient city, the clear rut of the rut, the blizzard of the blast, and again and again appeared in the passionate poems of the ginseng.

Water is a mood that people have to recall. Silver waves of water rushed from the canyon, waking up the hard memory of the stone.

Picking up a stone from the river, it is the kind of light green and green round stone. It is striking that there are two circles at the top of the stone, one big and one small, like a magical person, wearing an exaggerated pair of glasses, standing in front of the audience, looking forward to that exciting moment.

Moving on, a large piece of red stone on the palm of the hand, a wave of white ripples engraved in between. It seems that I am walking through the huge waves, and this red stone is my amulet.

Take a stone from the left and right hands and slow down in the clear river. I think it has returned to the most ancient times, because I have the token of memory of that era.


When the snow wraps around the earth, everything is quiet.

After the snow, the Baiyanghe Village was particularly embarrassed, and even the dog bark in the week was retracted. I wandered around the village arbitrarily, thinking that I could meet a cow or two oxen to see if the mountain in his eyes was green. At least one big tail sheep wearing a new cotton coat, meet in a narrow road, ask, the little lamb it produced, these days are not afraid of the black dog’s cry.

By the way, is the ashes still going to graze under the mountains?

There is a tree on the round mountain, which is a banyan tree. Who planted it? When is it planted? No one knows the exact information. The Hao family, who lived here for seven or eight generations, is highly respected. My second sister said that this tree was in her grandfather’s life.

So, more than a hundred years ago, the tree was rooted in the mountains. Then in the years of drought and little rain, the grass on the hillsides all died and died. Only this tree seems to have been blessed by the gods. It is like nothing, stubbornly alive, but the branches are not like being in the valley. The banyan trees are so thick and thick.

Such a magical tree is regarded as a god tree in the mountains. There are two or three good men and women who are in the middle of each other. When they have been for life, they go under the tree and tie a red ribbon on the branch, meaning love is like this. Like a tree, it lasts forever.

The most powerful red horses in the village, often grazing by the river, how are you missing today? I arbitrarily kicked a snowy roadside. Splashing out on a piece of irregular stone, the stone has no scars, like never before happened.

The quiet village needs a little noise. The magpies and sparrows that often fly in the woods are like the ones who talk about it. They play a game of hide and seek. One does not show up, it is really evil! If you really want to walk around, I have to take a walk, or live up to the calm and calm snow, but she walked overnight and arrived.

All the way to the east, the slope is getting bigger and bigger, the thick clouds are pulling, the sun is getting bigger and bigger, but for half an hour, the snow on the road begins to melt. The snow on the edge of the asphalt road is gradually getting darker. When it is not much, the road surface has a wet imprint.

After the old animal husbandry, my cousin who has been in medicine for more than 30 years talked to me about the scene of picking up wheat ears in Xindi. When the sky is not bright, in the afternoon, a whole sack of wheat ears, a person kneeling on the shoulder, walking a few kilometers in one breath, the forehead neck and cheeks are the sweat of peas, rubbing the clothes and rubbing, and rushing to the road . Throughout the days of cutting wheat, the teenagers and his sisters in the family joined the team that picked up the wheat. The extra wheat would be the ration he brought to school when he was in high school.

While talking and walking, I turned to a mountain bay, in front of a row of neat Kazakh style brick houses, the completion of the herdsmen settlement, making it difficult for cousin to connect this with the vast expanses of dry fields.

The hills like Shantou have been flattened, and a white house like a mushroom after the rain stands between the heavens and the earth.

The cousin took the pergola and looked at the distant mountains. After the layers of mountains, it was a clear and handsome Bogda Peak. The time was changing. The once hills were flattened and changed again. The mountains of the year have not changed.

The grown up man now lives in the mountains and wants to stay with the mountain for a lifetime.

The wooden swing chair in the yard is liked by children, and I like it too. Sitting on a swing chair, wandering, looking up at the sky, the blue is simple and pure. You can see the mountain, the highest peak of the Bogda Snow Mountain that can be seen from any place. On a summer morning, I rely on the chair, the oriental flying out of the pink glow, this is the dress you gave me. In joy, hide you in the clouds on the Tianshan Mountains and let others see them.

The sun walked through a beautiful arc. When I sent a full-bodied tomato into my stomach, I sank into a long-awaited twilight. I rocked the swing chair, under the effect of inertia. A kind of floating pleasure makes people full of delusions. At this moment, from the solemn Bogda peak, shyly answered the eyes of the crescent. Thought that she only looked at it, she would sleep peacefully and sleepy, knowing that I was afraid that I would be alone on the swing, no matter how violently jumped, showing a full and gentle face. Under the silent night, the humming sound is pleasing to the ear, and the south wind is as soft as water. I rushed to it, fearing the dawn of dawn, blindfolding my eyes and face.

For a long time, the real name Duan Rongping, female, Han nationality, Xinjiang Urumqi, Xinjiang Writers Association, love reading, hi travel, leisure writing, prose, novels have been published in “Hui literature” “West” “Oasis” “Qingming” “Red Bean” “Shandong Literature” and so on.