Family Trip to Songyue: A Journey of Morning Bells and Evening Drums

At 5 a.m. at Zhengzhou East Station, the platform was wrapped in a thin mist. Father held three high-speed rail tickets tightly, mother was braiding our daughter's hair, softly reminding, "It's cool in the mountains, put on your jacket later." Our daughter held my hand, eyes fixed on the ticket gate, asking, "Mom, are there really monks who practice martial arts on Mount Song?" I smiled and nodded. Our family trip to Mount Song began with our child's eager anticipation.

Inside the train, father pointed at the wheat fields outside the window: "You saw wheat like this when you were little back home." Our daughter leaned against the window, watching the outline of the hills gradually become clear, then clapped her hands: "It looks like Grandpa’s landscape paintings!" Father smiled, wrinkles forming at the corners of his eyes, while mother carefully peeled an orange from her backpack and shared it with me and our daughter.

At the Taishi Mountain Scenic Area, our daughter excitedly ran toward the stone lion, and father hurried after her, holding up his phone to take pictures: "Slow down, don’t fall." The ticket lady handed us a hand-drawn map, and mother leaned in to listen carefully, then turned to us and said, "She recommends taking the waterfall route. Let’s walk slowly and take care of the child." On the bluestone path, our daughter hopped and skipped, occasionally squatting to look at the dewdrops on the moss. Father, worried she might slip, stayed right behind her, reaching out to protect her. Seeing the tender red maple leaves, our daughter picked one and handed it to mother: "Grandma, this is for you as a bookmark."

In front of Luyai Waterfall, the mist hit our faces, and our daughter exclaimed, hiding in father’s arms. Father pointed at the rainbow: "Look, a rainbow appeared!" Mother quickly wrapped our daughter’s jacket tighter, and I took out my phone to capture the three of us standing under the rainbow. The mountain breeze blew, water droplets fell on father’s hair, and our daughter stood on tiptoe to brush them away. Father smiled and lifted her up: "Our little princess is so well-behaved."

At noon, we arrived at Zhongyue Temple. The red walls were hot from the sun. Father found a shady spot for mother and daughter to rest while he went to buy water. In front of the ancient cypress, our daughter spread her arms to measure the trunk. Father joined in, and their combined arms still couldn’t wrap around it, making mother laugh nonstop. "This tree is over two thousand years old," father said, touching the bark, "older than all our family elders combined." In the vegetarian restaurant, the "Songshan Three Treasures Noodles" were served. Our daughter refused to eat the black fungus, but mother patiently coaxed her: "If you eat the fungus, you’ll have the strength to climb the mountain like a little monkey." Our daughter obediently opened her mouth, and father and I watched, hearts full of warmth.

In the afternoon, we climbed the "Eighteen Bends." The stone steps were steep and narrow. Father walked at the front, our daughter held my hand and followed behind, occasionally calling out, "Grandpa, wait for me!" Father looked back, smiling and reaching out his hand: "Come, Grandpa will help you." When we met a porter carrying a load, father pointed at him and said to our daughter, "This grandpa works very hard. We should learn from him. Perseverance is victory." The porter smiled and said to our daughter, "You’re very brave, little girl. Keep it up!"

At 3 p.m., we reached the summit of Junji Peak. Our daughter excitedly ran to the viewing platform, and father quickly followed to protect her. "Mom, look how small everything is down there!" Our daughter pointed at the distant village, eyes full of wonder. Father hugged her from behind and pointed at the red walls of Shaolin Temple: "That’s the Shaolin Temple you wanted to see." I leaned against mother, watching the backs of father and daughter. The breeze carried the scent of grass and trees. Life was peaceful and beautiful.

On the way down, we detoured around Shaolin Temple. The sunset shone on the ginkgo trees, golden leaves falling at our daughter’s feet. She picked up a few, saying she wanted to bring them home for grandpa. Inside the Mahavira Hall, the monks’ chanting echoed. Our daughter imitated the gesture of pressing her palms together, looking adorable. In front of the Pagoda Forest, mother held our daughter’s hand and told her stories about the stone pagodas. Our daughter listened intently.

On the return bus, our daughter fell asleep in father’s arms, a smile still on her lips. Mother whispered, "The child had so much fun today." Father nodded, "Let’s go out more often in the future." I looked out the window at the receding Mount Song, my heart full of happiness. This journey from morning bells to evening drums, accompanied by family, made the beauty of Mount Song even warmer. These moments shared with family will become the most precious treasures in our memories.

Post by CYRUS RHODES | Oct 22, 2025