I don't know if the New Year tradition has a climb to the top, anyway, it is not wrong to go with the flow! On the afternoon of the first day of the first year, the warm sun lazily covers the vast fields. The temple at the top of the old mountain shines holy in the sun. We climbed the stairs and climbed to the top of the mountain with the surging crowds.
The gray-white striped stone steps wind and wind towards the summit. The crowd squirmed slowly, like an old dragon, wheezing under the firmament. Climb to the middle of the mountain, overlooking the small villages in the distance, sparsely scattered among the wheat fields. The green wheat seedlings reflect the dazzling distant mountains, and the magnificent early spring pictures of the distant mountains!
The decaying grass on the side of the road is dry, and the flourishing of the midsummer season has long been missing. Like a lonely life, it will eventually return to silence, and it is not willing to be mediocre. Always strive to accumulate the energy stored little by little, thick and thin, and in the near future Yangchun March, with a high posture, reborn! In the dry grass, there are scattered earth-yellow rocks that are horizontal and vertical, and when you look at it, it echoes with the blue rock on the cliff wall, whether it is a song of acacia or a song of death, which arouses people's reverie.
The temple at the top of the mountain is not open, and the original dilapidated temple is full of incense candles. The crowd was diverted, still crowded and bustling. Perhaps, people must be carrying good wishes, climbing high and stepping high for the first time, praying that the future can be more smooth and beautiful! The afterglow of the setting sun stained the mountain peaks little by little. I looked back, and Lao Shan looked like a bride to be married, hiding a hint of shyness, a hint of joy, and a faint sadness of parting...
