The regular work of Zoige in winter is the best way to cultivate the scenery. Time has turned Zoige into an unopened book with a wonderful future, a sentimental feeling, a sense of the four seasons, a graceful poetry, and a meaningful scroll. And we only need to be patient and read one page at a time.


Today, Xiaoxue, who will be the nightmare with you? Who will tell you the words of intimacy, and see strangers coming and going.


I heard that there is snow in Zoige. Time is repeated, like this solar terms, over and over again, and it starts again and again. However, the most regrettable thing is that those who are clear and vague will never go back. In winter, you can, warm up the fire, and cook a pot of agarwood tea. Warming up, but also warming the heart. In that case, the time flies.


Old, thin, and those who stood up in the sky.

The bustling, the frosty leaves are full of land, and the snoring is full of wheat fields.

Without any agreement, the north wind became a feather.

The first snow was flustered and fluttered from the ancient Cambrian.

Covered with seeing, invisible places, covered with dreams and dreams, covered with black and white.


This Zoige was finally clean.

It was snowing, and the birds on the plateau did not have a home. It looked at the wheat field sleeping under the gray sky, silent.

Snow, continue to drift, the season continues to move forward regardless of day and night.

However, a legendary pain began to wander in the eyelids.

Tears fell into the cold and blew in the snow.

The Tibetan children clasped their hands together and prayed for the truth to be given to me by the real body of the Buddha before returning home.

The Buddha said that the snow hides the lead, the cold cools the ancient reincarnation, there is no truth in this world, all the things you see, forget, get, and lose are the endings you can’t hide…