I don't know why I love this hundred-meter-high hill so much. I just rely on my intuition of beauty to squeeze a path out of the way of thorns, and let the diffuse fog with a wet, sticky and oily smell of mountain cypress go around you. The peak angle of the mountain, the sharp angle of the cypress and the eaves angle of the temple are all faintly exposed in the lingering fog. When the mellow wild fragrance of mountain lilies, the faint fragrance of bitter herbs and the faint fragrance of red apricots make a curtain of breeze fold into a long sachet and put it into your nostrils, you will never say that you can't find your home to rest. The wheatgrass in March on earth has made you're spaced out. The fog changed from thick to thin and then slowly closed, and the sun was beginning to show its edge. Once the sun moves to the mountain, it will be warm and gentle and stick on the solid back of Qingshan. Stupid but enthusiastic, lush weeds, scattered wild flowers and smoky ancient trees are all kissed and pressed by it. In fact, this mountain is very old, and the old one has only a handful of bones and muscles left. Many painters do not simply paint mountains, but live in a combination of mountains and rivers, which seems to be the spirituality of a painting. On this mountain, it's hard to find a stream or a well. Its old back and hard skin only absorb a little bit of rain. In fact, its spirituality is hidden, it is a tail corner of the East China Sea, and you will never believe that it has no spirituality by looking at the dense green Rong on the rock, the stupid snail falling from the jujube tree and the fern herb standing stubbornly in the crevice of the cliff. Some people once suggested digging ditches and fertile fields under the mountain, but they were afraid to drain its blood or poke the gap in the sea, so they wanted to plug it, thus disturbing Bixia Yuanjun and Taishan's mother sitting in the mountain crown, disrupting the peace of the mountain people, collecting the geomantic omen of the mountain treasure, and eliminating this seemingly absurd distracting thought. So now Bixia Yuanjun and Taishan's mother are still sitting quietly on the floor, crossing their hands in peace and praying for the peace of the mountain people, and the good weather and good harvests. Since then, the mountain has also been quite spiritual and famous. People from outside the mountain have come here to worship the immortal who is kind to the world, with newly burned yellow paperboards, curling incense and the pious whispers of the white-haired old lady, which seems to make this small cliff mountain more.
When the sunshine spreads out flatly, the heart stretches like a folding fan that has just been opened, which is calm and comfortable, and the sunshine becomes the kindness of the hill, gentle and kind.
Gravel clears the way, weeds open the screen, cypress branches open the wind, the blue sky opens the mirror, birds open the sound, and the sun shows mercy. How can you not let tourists stay in the step? You can leisurely go back to a period of history: the famous name on the stone tablet, the soot on the Cooper, and the remnants in the trench camp. This is a small front corner during the Laiwu campaign. Every step forward can step on a string of the heavy cliff mountain, and every snoring in the camp will arouse the beautiful breath of the hill. You won't hear the optimistic voice of soldiers joking with each other, the teasing voice of cooking soldiers and female nurses, and the mixed local accent of southern soldiers and northern soldiers, but you won't be surprised. Chongya Mountain is the product of the duality of Yin and Yang. The double long cliff is like a man and a woman with two long arms tightly buckled and goes to the end of the mountain. There are many fresh grass and wild flowers on the cliff, and the green screen is facing the wind. The green weeds are spread out like a long cotton felt, and the nameless flowers are sandwiched in the middle like blinking stars, and the people's hearts are pounding. Pieces of exquisite gravel are like nature's most deliberate and critical masterpieces, and beautiful gaps are open to look forward to the stitching of wind and sunshine.
Walking along the gravel road to the upper cliff, many brother and sister trees form a colorful forest. As soon as the peach blossoms passed by, they smiled at Yangchun and took up the mountain style. The fragrance of apricot blossoms is exhausted, and the clusters of Sophora japonica will stand tall and stand in the wind like seven fairies floating in the world; When the Sophora japonica is full of fireworks, it is not to be outdone, and it is fragrant in the warm wind; When Yu Qian still wants to occupy his own festival, camellia will burn all over the mountain, and dare to run around the thorns in a short spread, until midsummer, you can't find its short shadow anymore; To your surprise, the sky is full of broken jujube flowers, and the flashing people are sleepy and drunk, and they can't wake up for a while. In fact, these are all natural ancient trees, which seem to be full of the creator's hard work and a little sweat. It seems that the villagers are all enjoying leisure. Roll up trouser legs, carry a hoe, light a cigarette rod, and squat down in a field in the mountains. Isn't it also a refreshing pleasure?
Although the mountain is small, tourists keep coming all the year round. I don't know who endowed the mountain with aura, which made so many people devoutly fascinated. Perhaps it is because there are many temples in the mountain. Everywhere visitors go, they respectfully pray, burn incense, burn paper, close their hands and eyes. It seems that the wish of good weather and abundant crops has been carried in their hearts, and once they take root, they become a reality and get a sense of peace. In fact, there are not many festivals that really belong to this mountain, such as the third day of March, the sixth day of June and the ninth day of September in the lunar calendar. These days are the time when the villagers "reach the peak". People from ten miles and eight townships gather at the top of the mountain, playing and singing, splashing ink and dancing with guns, so that this small heavy cliff mountain is no longer silent and reserved. Young lovers are singing folk songs with warm throats. A string of laughter, bursts of singing, and cheers one after another made Berlin boil in an instant. The heavy cliff mountain, which had been sleeping for many years, finally had a sudden burst of power in the long depression. I woke up.
He woke up. In fact, Chongyashan, an old and kind old man, is used to living a beautiful single life. It is surrounded by Mount Tai in the west and Lotus Mountain in the east. The trinity is separated by peaks, but it is deeply connected with veins, which is a bit "disconnected". In the middle of Chongya Mountain, there is a protruding peak, and the villagers call it "Toad Mountain". In my opinion, it is a beautiful peak. If the whole Chongya Mountain is a gentle old man, it is a beautiful girl under the old man's knee. It is the most beautiful and shining peak of Chongya Mountain. Smooth peaks and corners, long and narrow flat ridges, flat and bright rock arms, look like a lovely frog sitting in a chirping posture from the side, while look from a distance like a girl leaning forward and waving a sword for a long time. Perhaps she is crowned with a beautiful legend and accepted the invitation of nature. Mountain people are also proud of a beautiful legend hidden in Xiufeng: it is said that an invisible sword is carried on the "girl", and it only shows its edge once in a thousand years. Every time it shows its edge, it is radiant and radiant, making the whole night as bright as day. All the fresh ferns of Cooper grass are favored by them in exchange for a jewel, and the villagers never know that it has been exposed several times. Unfortunately, however, when it first showed its edge, it happened to be met by a treasure-hunting southerner. He climbed this beautiful mountain in desperation, gently covered the newly exposed handle with a bamboo mat, and swept away the "Millennium Sword". From then on, the girl always leans forward and stretches her arms full of grievances to make a fight, and it seems to stand upright with her head held high as a "white rainbow." However, the villagers did not care about the gains and losses of the "Millennium Sword". On the contrary, they all paid more attention to this xiufeng.
It's hard to imagine that I'm so willing to splash ink on this unknown hill. At best, it's just a handful of dirt on the land of China, and it's this kind of dirt that may become a towering mountain when it is rubbed together. Can't the mountaineers raised by these dirt gather together to form a force to move mountains? At twilight in the morning, industrious plowmen sounded the horn of the mountain in the long stone kiln under the heavy cliff mountain, clanking the sound of heavy hammers, banging the powerful deep chisel, and thrilling blasting, which echoed in the air again and again. Isn't the long stone kiln also a long road to life? The villagers grew up in this long tunnel for generations, brandishing hammers, holding iron chisels, waving iron shovels, sweating and working tirelessly in the coldest wind under the most poisonous sun, lighting a cigarette one by one, sighing for a long time, returning home with a pot of muddy wine and a contented smile. This is the life track of the mountain people in one day. That's how generations of mountain people came. When a generation can no longer carry the hammer, hold the iron chisel or swing the iron chisel, they reluctantly put the heavy hammer on their sons or grandchildren. Where there are rocks that can't be moved, there are pioneers with iron bones! As long as the green hills are there, the pioneers will never disappear. Hammer by hammer, chisel by chisel, knock on its peak edge, chisel its stone ridge, and polish it into bricks one by one. Look, isn't this piece of Shi Zhuan, which is clearly and square, a beautiful Great Wall of Wan Li? There are tens of millions of spacious houses for children, and they are all happy when they live alone. This is the servant of Chongya Mountain. There are no complaints from generation to generation, only simple, kind and gentle, just like Shi Zhuan, which we hewed out, and it is calm to come and go. Nowadays, few people use this blue rock brick to build houses, but we are still used to building houses with them from generation to generation. It is beautiful and strong, and we rarely use red bricks in hot kilns. Even the stones in the mountain are so kind that they are reluctant to throw them. Just imagine, how can a person who doesn't even have feelings for a piece of Shi Zhuan separated from the mother of the mountain get close to a mountain? How can people who don't even want to be close to a mountain where they raise themselves have feelings for villagers living in poverty?
The mountains are beautiful, and they leave their stories with their industriousness and kindness. Chongyashan, let me sleep with your name on my pillow. Qing Qing Bai Tao is my ode, clusters of Sophora japonica are my little wishes, and blocks of rocks are the hotbed for you to raise me.
I had a strange dream tonight, in which a kind old man carefully built a stone pillow for me. So, I put a rock on my pillow, held the waist muscles of the mountain in my hands, and put my feet into its warm hinterland to sleep sweetly.