Snow falls on a thousand peaks, the heart returns to the wilderness

When the wind of Western Sichuan carries snowflakes past your ears, looking up, the continuous snow-capped mountains lie across the horizon like a silver dragon. Each peak wears a fluffy snow crown, like a carefully crafted work of art by the heavens. The moment sunlight breaks through the clouds, the snow surface reflects scattered light, dazzling your eyes so you can barely open them, yet you can't help but greedily imprint this ultimate whiteness and brightness in your vision.

The mist around the mid-mountain is like a playful child, sometimes gathering to hide the snow mountains except for a corner, hazy like the unfinished brushstrokes in an ink painting; sometimes torn apart by the wind, suddenly revealing the clear outline of the entire snow mountain, exposing the magnificent interplay of dark green mountain bodies and pure white snow. The gravel road beneath is covered with a thin layer of snow, crunching underfoot as if quietly conversing with the land.

Occasionally, you may encounter hikers carrying backpacks, their eyelashes frosted, cheeks reddened by the cold, but their eyes sparkle with excitement—this is probably the magic of the snow mountains, making every trek worthwhile. In the distance, prayer flags flutter in the cold wind, the five-colored cloth strips carrying wishes, echoing the vastness of the snow mountains, embodying both the grandeur of nature and human devotion.

Standing in this vastness, all emotions are magnified and soothed. Troubles become as tiny as the snowflakes underfoot, while the inner shock is as profound as the snow mountains. The snow mountains of Western Sichuan are never a static scene; they are flowing poetry, howling wind, and every person who comes here, harboring wilderness and freedom deep in their hearts. Ganzi Tibetan Autonomous Prefecture · Sichuan

Post by WayfarerChronicles | Oct 20, 2025