Zhangjiajie Travel: A Journey of the Soul
Strolling along the long road of life, are we not all travelers? Along the way, we have been surprised, moved, pained, and confused. Ahead of the journey is a heart-wrenching parting, and behind it may be a joyous reunion or a pure land where one can enjoy time alone. The distant mountains rise and fall in waves, while the nearby trees rush backward as if desperately. In the carriage there is the singing of young children, the snoring of men, the laughter of girls……. Perhaps...
Strolling along the long road of life, are we not all travelers? Along the way, we have been surprised, moved, pained, and confused. Ahead of the journey is a heart-wrenching parting, and behind it may be a joyous reunion or a pure land where one can enjoy time alone.
The distant mountains rise and fall in waves, while the nearby trees rush backward as if desperately. In the carriage there is the singing of young children, the snoring of men, the laughter of girls……. Perhaps only a train can bring so many different kinds of people together. Is fate at work? I doubt it, because people only communicate within their own circles and never step half a step beyond the forbidden line.
Sitting by the window, the scenery outside is beautiful. There are mountains and also water. It is late spring, and only then does the south show the colors of spring. Occasionally, a few winding small rivers stretch into the distance. The trees on the mountains are arranged neatly, and seen from afar, they are like a furry curve blocking the other side of the mountain, thus also making the boundless sky stop abruptly. For someone like me, born on the plains and having seen few famous mountains and rivers, being able to enjoy such scenery on a tiring journey should be enough to satisfy me.
At the starting point of a journey, we are always looking forward to how intoxicating the destination will be. So we often dwell in beautiful fantasies, imagining that on the way we will meet a talkative friend or an elderly person rich in experience, thus making our journey full of vitality. However, when we truly set out on the journey, we discover the gap between reality and fantasy. There is no talkative friend chatting with you about everything under the sun, nor an elderly person telling you about life experience. There is only the fact that the train is moving forward. The long journey becomes dull and tasteless. So we begin to look forward to arriving at the destination. We fantasize about how pleasant the climate at the destination is, how warm the people are, and how beautiful the scenery is.
We always long to obtain something or reach some state. For this goal, we search bitterly. Because of this, we give up the clouds and sunset at the horizon, forget the freshness of nature, lose ourselves, and follow the trend. The road of pursuit is so long, and we expect that after success there will be a whole new world, so we disregard everything and press forward courageously. But when we catch up to it, we discover that the result is far from bringing us the happiness we imagined, and we may even want to abandon it. This feeling lingers in our hearts at all times, making us begin to reflect: what exactly do we want? Is it really so easy to obtain? We begin to replay our every word and action during the process of seeking, only to unexpectedly discover that on this road of pursuit we have abandoned far too much.
Come travel to Zhangjiajie. I think probably no one in the world can truly separate the body and the spirit in travel. Then let us devote ourselves wholeheartedly to the relaxation of travel, merge into nature, and accept its call.
Guarding the four seasons, quietly facing Zhangjiajie's mountains, waters, forests, stones, peaks, caves, and valleys, the soul gives birth to a kind of self-directed freedom and pride, thereby lengthening Zhangjiajie's feelings, expressing Zhangjiajie's extreme vitality between fine rain and sparse paulownia, and within a single leaf of strong autumn. Peaks turn and roads wind, roads wind and peaks turn; each mountain is different, enduring through the ages, each with its own height; each mountain and each water, each convexity and each concavity, each has its own depth, a natural depth uncarved for billions of years.