Roads on the wasteland
Ulan Ao Bao is a station name on the Ganwu Line, or more precisely, a regional symbol on the railway line, as trains do not stop here. This is an open area, with no villages and people in a radius of more than a dozen miles, and its southern side connects the famous scenic spot irrigation district, and the north is bordered by the vast Tengger Desert, and the railway line runs through it. Looking out the window on the train, the sunset was shining on this wasteland, and the mountains and rivers were painted a bright crimson red, which looked very spectacular, so I remembered the name of this small station.
It's a poetic name. Speaking of Ao Bao, people naturally think of the grassland, because Ao Bao is the symbol of the grassland. On the endless prairie, you will see some huge piles of stones accumulated with large and small stones, and colorful sacred flags flutter and flutter, summoning shepherds from afar like arms. Once Ulan Ao Bao, must be a place with abundant water and grass, the sky must have been very blue, the clouds floated on the hills, and the clear river water snaked away from here, like a white ribbon. Mushroom-like white tents, twinkling in the kaleidoscope of flowers, cows and sheep pearls scattered on the grass beach, melodious pastoral songs from time to time from the other end of Ao Bao...
But the sight was desolate, with no green, no villages, no flocks, not even the wings of birds, and a terrible dead silence in the air. On the wasteland, the only sign of life was a kind of salty wood, one pier after another, exposing the root system, growing tenaciously, stretching from both sides of the railway line to the distant hills, a vast expanse. Later, even salty firewood became scarce, and the wasteland revealed large areas of alkaline beaches and sand-stained fields, like sheep's backs shed in spring. History has left only a nice name here, and the good things are gone.
As the wheels rumbled through the wasteland, a road appeared outside the window, yes, a narrow sandy road, winding through the long grass, like a white ribbon. In this desolate wilderness, there is a road! Where does it come from and where does it reach? I tried to see more clearly, and it was out of my sight. But I've seen it in existence, and maybe just a few years ago someone just passed by here.
The road on the wasteland, like a match in the dark night sky, made my eyes light up, and the whole wasteland seemed to come alive. I am convinced that where there is a road, there is life, and perhaps, just over the barren hills, there are trees, there is water, there are villages and schools, for life should be the master of this wilderness.
In fact, this scene is repeatedly superimposed in my memory. Having walked through the vast Gobi more than once, that is the real sense of travel, monotonous, boring, lonely. The Great Gobi, everything is naked, the sun shines the stones black, as far as the eye can see, the sky is wild, there is no sign of life, occasionally, you can see a pile, two piles of black boulders, with time rushing to lie obliquely in the distance, like an island moored in the sea, looming. Above the gray sky, vultures hovered beginninglessly and endlessly, rendering the Gobi even more desolate, making people feel a desperate fear.
At this time, in a bare black background, a road appeared, as if it had just broken free of some shackles, and stumbled into it. Every time I saw this scene, I was so surprised that I almost cried out, because this road, when there was no sign of life in my sight, only a hue, and the mood was bitter and astringent, suddenly jumped in front of my eyes, and then, passing in front of my eyes, and intermittently reaching into the distance. My heart was stirring with indescribable excitement at this moment. This vast road on the Gobi became the overpass for my heart to go farther away.
The road is the footstep of the earth. The road on the wasteland is the soul of the wasteland, which leaves the desolation behind and brings hope to the distance.
The road is an extension of dreams. There is a road, the wasteland is not lonely, there is a road, the wasteland has a new tomorrow. (Wuwei Wu Zisheng)