Guo Jinshuan|Inside Wo Mu Village
The houses in Wo Mu Village are all made of logs, full of primitive flavor. We were greeted by a local man, who took us into a cabin, and we freshened up for lunch. Go to the restaurant to order a meal, grilled lamb kebabs of course, a talk about the charred, tender, let a person rave, eat a bite and want to eat a bite of grilled lamb kebabs, it is not difficult to think of this beautiful place in Xinjiang. I am eating with relish, suddenly from outside the yard out of the beautiful music, I asked the young man sitting next to me, what is the name of the song, he said: "black walk horse" I stood up to look out the window, only to see a twenty-something years old boy and a three year old boy is following the rhythm of the dance in the beautiful body. dancing. I stood by and was touched by the scene, a three-year-old child dancing so lovely, Tuva people can sing and dance to the onlookers shocked.
The morning of the Bayinbruk grassland is the silence of the silence of the silence: there is no horse and carriage noise, no machine roar, no cattle roar horse hoarse, no birdsong insect singing, even the sheep grazing, ruminating sound is not. But Wo Mu, this small village deep in the mountains, but the sound of all music. The river is bubbling under the feet, the cows are roaring and the horses are neighing around the grassy slopes, the jungles on the mountains are bursting with pine waves, and the eagles and birds are chirping in the sky above us. However, the thousands of sounds of nature, just like a difficult to penetrate the sound of the barrier, but also like a huge sound of the black hole, all the unnatural sounds, all rejected or sucked into, so that people feel, is a different kind of silence.
No tourists weaving, no sound of people, but this summer, but also the village is the most lively time, only, here, no matter how noisy tourists, are all swallowed up by the sound of nature. People one by one silent, such as wriggling little ants. Occasionally villagers of the car motorcycle driving past, but also like in the physics laboratory track, do the coefficient of friction test of the small block of wood, silent. All the noise of the world, all drowned out by the sound of nature, and even the sound of nature itself, also disappeared - the Wo Mu River has been around the rolling flow, you do not feel the sound of the water disturbed; the hillside has been a gust of pines, you do not know the noise of the wind.
Although it is the height of summer, the night in Wo Mu has been very cool, which also adds to the silence of the night. Close the windows and doors of the inn, and completely cut off from the outside world, the world fell silent, so silent that people inexplicably panic. If it is not the window on the half moon from the tip of the cabin poked his head out, gazing at you, I really doubt that I was flying into space, flying to the moon. Wo wood night sky like water washed like, blue moist; moon such as the best Hetian white jade, but also must be the old pit species, the contours of a clear, solid translucent, not stained with half a bit of dust.
Early in the morning, the WoMu sunrise flat fog landscape is the most beautiful, however, I was not so lucky, only to see the clouds steam, covered the sky, but never wait for the sun to show his face. Flat fog is seen, from the distant mountainside quietly roaming over, shrouded in flowers blooming meadow, filled the pavilion birch jungle, stroked my cheeks, overflowing my body, slowly flowed through the pointed ridge of the cabins, to the other pine spruce hill roaming over - quietly, gently, softly, softly, coolly, like a dream of the gossamer veil, such as pulling the soul of the silk.
Mist falls outside the green mountains
Clouds rise from the birch alarm
How many guests are infatuated
Scattered as a starry sky
The sky is full of stars
The sky is full of stars. p> -- "Waiting for the sunrise"
It's evening, the sun is slowly sinking into the shoulders of the snow-covered mountains on the opposite side of the mountain, behind the mountain slopes of the forest covered by the golden afterglow is also a little bit of fading, the quiet flow of the creek in the grass to cut a curved line, the distant mountain tops of the snow with the reflection on the surface of the river to wipe down the last bright colors, the river is the last time, the river is the last time, the river is the last time. A repeated bright colors, a few cows lazily grazing by the river, the playground surrounded by wooden fences is empty, a lonely basketball hoop stands silently in the breeze, a few white sheep wandering under the rack. The villagers were busy with dinner in their respective homes, the horses had long since returned to their pens, and the children were playing in the grass in front of their houses. Such a beautiful scene can not be missed, my daughter took my arm toward the river, walking suddenly saw the dancing boy, he was playing with an oversized white dog. He was playing with an oversized white dog. They were constantly playing in the grass. I greeted him kindly, "Hello!" He nodded knowingly. I said, "Can you take a picture with me for a souvenir?" He obediently ran to me. I stroked his head to record this beautiful moment. Everything in the village of Womu is in peace and quiet in an orderly manner, there is no rush, no noise, a quiet mountain village, Womu will remain a beautiful dream.
Regret? I'm not sure if I'm going to be able to do that. When I embarked on a cloudy and misty homeward journey, bid farewell to the boarding house cabin green pine and birch clouds and smoke, they are silent, as quietly as when we greeted. Quietly I went, just as I quietly come, I waved my sleeve, did not take a cloud. Accompanied by the cabin birds singing happily, I gently pushed open the door of the cabin, all the way to the faint fragrance of flowers, refreshing. It turned out to be the owner of the cabin in front of the door planted a sea of beautiful flowers, walked to the village road, saw the road on both sides of a neatly arranged block of cabins, the name of these cabins are very interesting, some called "warm home", some called "traveler tribe "Each of them is decorated in a unique way.
Early risers adults discussed must be climbed to the far side of the observation deck to enjoy the charming morning view of the WoW to go, the guys discussed after the return to the house to sort out the equipment on the way to set off together, all the way to the song and laughter, climbed to the observation deck down to look down, and finally saw the scenery like a fairyland, this time the WoW village in the rising smoke under the shadow of the background, simply like a beautiful It is just like a beautiful oil painting. Not long after, the sun from the east side of the mountain climbed up, the golden sunshine sprinkled in the quiet village of Wo Mu, like to give this small village put on a golden veil, a small wooden house with a sharp top looks even more beautiful. I finally understood why this place is called "God's own land". After passing the "Colorful Beach", the scenery gradually got better and better, full of autumn colors. As the saying goes, "Autumn enters the clouds and mountains with relentless charm. A hundred kinds of scenery is comparable to pictures. The maple has ten thousand leaves by the blue clouds, and the yellow flowers are a thousand points under the mysterious rocks" (Song?). Zhang Whirlwind "Tapsa Xing"). Walking along the way, looking left and right, the endless beautiful scenery is delightful. "The trees are all in autumn color, and the mountains are only in autumn sunshine. The shepherds drive their calves back, the hunting horses return with their birds" (Tang?). Wang Jie "wild look").
6:00 pm, we arrived in Burzin, and in the district transfer station to the scenic area of the bus, then to the Wo wood village. The way is another scene, rolling hills, autumn grass is yellow, but far away still like a furry felt carpet. Not many trees along the road, or clumps or columns, but also unique. Occasionally there are a few wooden houses and high stacks of pasture grass surrounded by wooden fences, and occasionally you can see a herd of cows leisurely pacing in the meadow, just like the kind of idyllic illustrations depicted in the old books, both rustic and cozy, as if it is very distant, but also seems to be very familiar. The car traveled for about 40 minutes, turned into a pass, arrived at Wo Mu village. The village is not very big, the whole village is basically wooden houses, arranged in order. Wooden houses without masonry, are built with skinned logs, above the "human" roof, said to be the typical residence of the local Tuva people, and called the "wooden flute", very primitive, very rough, but also very distinctive. There are not many tourists coming here, so the village is very quiet.
The sun has not set yet, and the sky is still very bright. We put down our bags and quickly followed the road to a small hill north of the village. The hill is full of lush trees, many of which have a graceful body of yellow birch leaves, adding to the bleak hill full of soft beauty, wandering in such an environment, can not help but give birth to a sense of coziness. Standing on the hill, you can overlook the village from north to south, which is located in the "basin" of the village, surrounded by hills full of dense forests, as if the only way to communicate with the outside world. There are two roads in the center of the village that divide the village into three bands of houses, which are very smooth and organized. In the middle of the village there are a few trees with golden leaves, towering and protruding, like cranes and chickens; on the west side is a river running north-south, called the Womu River.
This place is not as bright as Tao Qian's Peach Blossom Garden (there are no peach blossoms at this time), nor is it as mysterious as the one depicted by Qu You's "Tiantai Visiting Records", but it is not lacking in its unique beauty. Especially in the twilight of the slanting sun and smoke, it immediately reminds me of the mood depicted in the ancient poem: "Ambiguous distant people's villages, depending on the smoke in the marketplace. The dog barks in the deep alleys and the rooster crows in the mulberry trees" (Jin?). Tao Yuanming's "Return to the Garden"), "Lonely village sunset sunset, light smoke, old trees and cold crows, a little under the shadow of the fly. Green mountains and green water, white grass, red leaves and yellow flowers" (Yuan?). Bai Pu's "Tianjingsha? Autumn"), "Beyond the sparse forests of distant trees, half of the autumn mountains carry the setting sun" (Song?), "The Pavilion on the River" (Song?), "The Pavilion on the River" (Song?). Kou Zhun "book on the river Pavilion wall") ...... before the eyes of the poetry, poetry in the picture, let people associate, let people intoxicated. Wang Wei, a great poet of the Tang Dynasty, once wrote these lines: "The cold mountains turn verdant, the autumn water gurgles in the day. Leaning on a stick outside the wood gate, listening to the evening cicadas in the wind. The sun is still setting on the ferry, and there is lonely smoke in the marketplace. The poem "Yingchuan Leisurely Residence for Pei Xiucai Di" (瀛川闲居赠佩秀才迪), the poem depicts how well it fits the scene at this time. If it were not for the development of tourism, which has led to an endless stream of tourists, this would have been an excellent place for the ancient people to live in seclusion. From the top of the hill, you can clearly see everything below. The foot is sitting west to east of a hillside, is also considered a viewing platform (with wooden trestle), here can be from the west to the east horizontal overlooking the "basin" in the entire Wo Mu village of those unique "wooden houses", uneven and different, unique.
The dense trees around the village are red, yellow, white and green, with a variety of colors, like a colorful forest fence, which circles the village as if it were a "sandbox"; at the foot of the hill where we are standing is a quietly flowing river, with a blue light, steaming with cold air. blue, steaming with cold air. Gradually the day dawned, and the grass at our feet was covered with a layer of crystalline frost, penetrating the endless dreamy chill. At this time the wooden houses under the mountain or far or near, one after another rose or into a wisp, or into a piece, or as a column of cooking smoke, curling up, blotchy diffusion, full of warm countryside atmosphere. I do not know when, from the north of the mountain pass quietly rose a light, a cluster of a morning fog, "class smoke fly slightly heavy, square rain dispersal is still light" (Tang?), there is the highest peak of Li "fog". The highest peak of Li "fog"), some like a light veil, like flotsam, some like the nine heavenly fairies dancing sleeves, some like a group of white horses on the wilderness at ease, from north to south slowly moving forward, sprinkling, curling dance, drifting, gradually enveloped the entire village, or high or low, or thick or light, the morning fog and smoke intertwined and entwined together to make the quiet mountain villages hazy, hidden, such as a dream like a mirage, like the It's like a dream, just like a yao tai. Occasionally came a few barking dogs and chickens, and presented a unique serenity, peace and truth. Just as the ancient poem depicts. "The moon sets and the cold fog rises, Shen Si Hao Tongchuan. The birds of the night are singing and scattering, and the mountains and lakes are pale. The road is deserted on the sand, and the fields are rushing beyond the continent. I still want to cling to the distant trees, and I want to exhaust the sky" (Tang?). Li Yi's "Water Pavilion Sitting at Night in the Dawn Mist"); "The wind suspects fine rain, and the sun looks like floating dust. At first, it is as if the smoke is dispersing, and at times it is as if the color is new" (Southern Dynasty?). Xiao Ze "aria fog") ...... small mountain village, light morning fog, poetry like sentiment, painting the general mood.
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Behind the opposite side of the mountain flooded with warm morning light, through the refraction of the mountains, and gradually dyed the top of the mountain, dyed the tree tops, dyed the village in the morning fog, but also dyed the road down the mountain. The road down the mountain is also brightened. While enjoying the frosty morning autumn colors and talking about their own harvests, people began to slowly descend the mountain. When coming to the Wo Mu River under the mountain, the scenery here again triggered people to linger on the rhyme: slightly blue river water, in the riverbed full of pebbles of all sizes, flooding waves murmuring flow, the river bank of the tall trees draped in gold hanging green; the river there is also a tributary through the stone arch bridge meandering through the birch forest, the red leaves drifting, the golden leaves paved with the ground, the romantic combination of red, yellow, blue, green color, in the morning light more highlights the intoxicating Autumn color, there are a few yellow cattle are drinking water by the river, the whole situation is like a colorful painting, not by you do not stop, not by you do not forget ......