Loved Xinjiang, walked through Xinjiang

One day in the summer of 2003, I suddenly had an idea in my mind: life is short, and I still have some strength to do what I want to do. When people are alive, what meaning and talk about pursuit?

The towering Tianshan Mountains, the reckless snowy peaks and the barren land blend into each other, and I seem to feel the beautiful and simple scenery, the desolate and mysterious history, is opening her arms, hugging this stranger into her That broad mind. The moment the plane landed, I remembered a word from Tagore:

I abandoned all my sorrow and doubts, and went after the tide of homelessness, because the eternal stranger was calling me, and he was walking along this road.

I didnt prepare much information in Xinjiang this time, even less than that with the tour group that year. One is that I only had one night of preparation time from the decision to set off and boarding, and it was more because of the vast desert sea here. The Qinggemanwu here has long attracted me to be intoxicated and dreamy. This feels to me like a hometown I have never returned, so strange but so familiar and familiar.

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