It was snowing at night, and a gentleman whose day and night were turned upside down told me that it was snowing. I immediately got out of bed and rushed to the yard.
To spend the first winter in the Pamirs, this first snow is the best reward for me.
The snow is not heavy, and it is scattered from the sky, like a white drizzle. Standing alone in the yard looking up at the sky, to feel the light snow caressing my face.
I hope it can be downloaded a little bigger. I pray like this when I sleep.
▲Sky Island yard after snow
The first thing I did when I got up the next day was to go to the yard. I was very excited to see that the yard was already white.
The world after the snow has become unreal and beautiful, as if all daily necessities are wrapped in a layer of romantic clothing, separated from the breath of life.
You are no longer bothered or worried, and now you just want to rush into the snow-build a snowman.
▲In the snow in Xinjiang, my heart is in Paris Fashion Week
Building a snowman, this should be the greatest respect for a snow.
Maybe I come from the south where there is little snow. There are only two snows in my memory, one is a winter vacation in the sixth grade of elementary school, and the other is in front of the window sill of the Siemens office.
When I was building a snowman in grade 6, I didn’t seem to know that my hands were cold, and I still built a big snowman even though my hands were red from the cold. The happiness was just moving snow onto the snowman, and finally I looked at my snowman with a silly smile.
The snow that I saw after work was very light, it just made the ground wet.
But because the sharp-edged snowflakes floated on me from the window sill, I knew the snow, so I also built a snowman in my heart.
▲Breakfast in the snow
Since it is the first snow, it is natural to take it seriously, take the camera and earphones, and go out wrapped tightly.
In fact, although the weather is gloomy when it snows, the air is not as cold as imagined.
▲Golden Grass Beach after snow
Walking alone on the road to Caotan, the only outsiders that can be seen on the road this season are migrant workers and soldiers.
They all cast surprised eyes when they saw me, probably thinking, there are still tourists this season? This tourist must have lost his mind.
▲Icefield Bus
They don’t know that I’ve become half a local. In summer I run on the grassy beach, in autumn I take pictures of my friends on the grassy beach, in winter, my first winter in the grassy beach, and now I’m going to record it itself.
▲Two yaks
The mud houses on the grassy beach have been demolished, and the flocks of sheep have disappeared. Only a few yurts and a herd of yaks are still standing quietly in the ice and snow.
The mountains in the distance became a little strange after being covered with snow, unlike the lines I was familiar with before, it became a little different.
Maybe it’s like an old friend in new clothes, it’s a bit uncomfortable at first.
▲The plank road of Jincaotan
The grass beach still stubbornly reveals the last bit of yellow. Surrounded by white, the color of this bit of grass looks thin and lovely.
▲A lonely bird flies over the wilderness
For some reason, the grassy beach after the snow has a déjà vu look of a doomsday wasteland.
It becomes wider, more barren, and more remote.
▲Cows in the wilderness
The yaks in the distance are walking slowly on this wasteland, as if going to the end of the world together. They are a strong force in bad weather, and they are making a last-ditch effort to survive.
In summer, it does not feel like a barren land at all, it is full of vitality, the wind is blowing and the grass is low, the sheep are sucking wantonly in its arms, the smoke is curling up, the herdsmen are waiting for the harvest in its arms, and the meandering river is life Everything is so natural and beautiful.
But in winter, everything becomes serious.
The grass is covered with thick snow, the yurt is inseparable from the stove, and the air between the sky and the earth is oppressive.
This is the last test for the herdsmen and livestock. Then I thought, maybe the descendants of the nomads have already seen through the ice and snow and learned to live in harmony with winter. For them, this is just one of the four seasons.
At this moment, my mobile phone was out of battery, the music stopped, and I heard the sound of me walking in the snow. Every step I took, there were crisp and pleasant footsteps, which was the sound of trampling the snow.
▲ A kiss from the mountains and rivers, the years return to old age
In this wasteland, everything is so quiet, as if they are holding their breath to feel you, and you, in this short wasteland, feel yourself.
