# Run away from the crowd **Published by:** [cola](https://paragraph.com/@cola-4/) **Published on:** 2022-12-14 **URL:** https://paragraph.com/@cola-4/run-away-from-the-crowd ## Content Run away from the crowd, to the mountain, to the sea, to the long-lost themselves. The moon rises from the fishing port at the northeast end of the island all the way to the east coast. At first, it is a low coastline, and then the road gradually climbs. Looking upwards, one side of the road is a steep cliff which cannot be seen at the top. On the other side, looking down, vertigo, was a precipice that could not be seen to the bottom, connecting it to the sea. Driveways are cut into cliffs and sometimes tunnels are blasted out where there is no way through the walls. The construction of this road, from the design to the construction, is full of difficulties, after the completion, and always need to repair, the project is laborious, can be expected. Outside the newly widened driveway, the old mountain road remains. Many sections of the roadbed have collapsed and become walking trails for people to wander and observe. Park the car and walk on the old road with excellent views. Back against the cliff, facing a boundless blue sea, there is nothing in front of the eyes, the sea and sky, the wind blowing tens of thousands of miles. Life can be so domineering, life can be so lonely, and so conceited. Standing on the high and long peaks of the mountains and rivers, anyone can't help but shout at the mountains and the sea. Run away from the crowd, to the mountain, to the sea, to the long-lost themselves. I suddenly remembered that in the history of one thousand years of art, all the readers in the paintings were walking towards the landscape. Their sleeves are flowing, their hair is feints, they are grittering and barefoot, and they go to high and unfrequented peaks. They walked to the deep mountains, to the turbulent streams, to the end of the water, and sat down on the boulders, watching the clouds rise, watching the water rush and twist away, all under their feet. They looked up at the waterfall in the mountains, listening to the roar of the water, watching the clouds disappear. They are in the "thousand mountain birds fly away, thousands of people trace" lonely place, roaring and singing, listen to their cries and laughter in the empty mountain echo. They sat down Matsushita, closed their eyes and listened to the rustling away autumn wind between the trees. It may not be easy for us to understand such loneliness. The conceit of "being alone with the spirit of heaven and earth", the loneliness of raising a glass to the moon, the insistence that when you are most lonely and conceited, you can only talk to your shadow. Never lonely, can not understand the art history, the power and wealth of the world and can not get rid of the greed, it is not easy to understand the significance of an era, so many scholars to the landscape. Will loneliness be the last kind of salvation for oneself? It is said that during hundreds of millions of years, due to the force of the Pacific plate, the land on the eastern part of the island rose, forming a steep and towering cliff on the sea. It runs all the way from the Taroko mountains, like a bony spine in the middle of the island. Over the bluff, along the eastern coast, all the way south, the sea on the left, the right all steep mountains. There is not much hinterland between the mountain and the sea. On the slope at the foot of the mountain, a small piece of farmland is roughly cultivated, and a few cattle and sheep are kept loosely. Simple residential houses are scattered on the hillside, which highlights the grandeur of the mountain and the sea. Camped on a beach called a terrace, the young students lit a campfire. After dinner, the campfire died down and the sky began to fill with stars. A river is the dense light of thousands of planetesimals. Someone said softly, "I never knew the stars in the sky were so many and so bright." Many climbed to the isolated steep rocks of the sea to watch the waves come and splash and break into pearly waves. I do not know when the song from passionate and sonorous to rest, is listening to the tide whirl, a moon rises quietly from the sea, it is midnight, a moonlight on the sea, from far and near, like a road, like a lonely road, as if you can step on the moon and go to the sky. ## Publication Information - [cola](https://paragraph.com/@cola-4/): Publication homepage - [All Posts](https://paragraph.com/@cola-4/): More posts from this publication - [RSS Feed](https://api.paragraph.com/blogs/rss/@cola-4): Subscribe to updates