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Some time ago, my family and I went to the creek cave at the foot of Jinggang Mountain to play. The car passes through a deep cave with a slender canyon sandwiched between mountains on both sides. The mountains are undulating and the cliffs are forested. The mountains are covered with emerald green trees, and a stream meanders out along the valley floor. The stream is extremely clear, as clear as a river of emeralds.
Turning over a ridge, the view suddenly opens up, the houses are dotted, seven or eight brick and concrete buildings, jagged in a small basin between the green trees of the mountains. Cooking smoke, the sound of chickens and dogs, strings of red peppers hanging under the eaves, and hanging sausages on the roof. A group of children frolicked in front of the door, several elderly people basked in the sun under the roots of the wall, and several women toiled in the vegetable field. The whole village was quiet and peaceful, so peaceful that it seemed as if time had frozen, and it was so quiet that it seemed as if the earth had stopped turning.
The road runs over the village and into the mountains. There is no way forward, and there is no end in sight. Turning over a ridge, the road takes the shape of a zigzag and stretches upward among the green trees and bamboo. I don't know how many floors were climbed, how many circles were turned, and over a mountain pass, two brick farmhouses appeared in front of our eyes. We parked the car on the side of the road and stepped out of the car, looking out into the distance, the mountains cascading and the green trees. A young child was playing on the side of the road, and an old Bohe hoe returned. The old man asked us where we came from, and warmly invited us to his house for tea, without a little guard against the living, which made us feel very happy and happy. Lao Bo, surnamed Gu, has lived here for more than seventy years. The old man said that the scenery here is beautiful, the air is fresh, and after living for a long time, he has feelings for every grass and tree here, and he is no longer willing to leave. We followed the old man's finger and saw the mountains, the green waves rolling, the clouds fluttering, and the birdsong. The sun is fine and sprinkled with golden spots, and the trees are delicate and dancing in the wind. There is a building looming in the col, which the old man said is the cable car station of Rhododendron Mountain. Oh, it turns out that we have entered the core scenic spot of Jinggangshan - Rhododendron Mountain Scenic Area. Due to the time relationship, we did not have time to climb the mountain, too late to enjoy the beauty of the Rhododendron Mountain, so we turned the front of the car and returned to the same road.
Out of the cave, I looked back, and a milky white cloud spat out of the valley. The jagged peaks are like islands floating on the sea. The road was also covered by thick fog, without a trace. I was shocked, is the creek cave a place where the gods live?