So People Keep Walking Into The Mountains Text Postcard

Golden mountains, orange-red twilight hues, after a long journey, just to meet the sunset before my eyes. At an altitude of 2,500 meters, the cosmos cradles a vast, surging sea within the mountains. And there must have been a whale breaching the surface, for the scene is so exquisitely sacred that people are drawn to the mountains, time and again. Twilight fades, the path winds onward, nightfall claims the mountain peaks, sheltering countless nocturnal creatures. Two muntjacs walk quietly by the roadside. What a bountiful day, collecting the sunrise and sunset, collecting the rising moon, and also a shining star accompanying a crescent moon. "Such a bright star," I say. "A star that even the city's bright lights cannot extinguish." You say it's Venus, and that tomorrow or the day after will be Saturn and Jupiter. What spark ignited my soul at that moment, a blaze of ecstatic wonder, marveling that such a known existence could be witnessed by no one. Beyond imagination, beyond gravity, beyond time and space. This ephemeral self, like dust, encounters named planets with the naked eye, coexists with hundreds of millions of nameless stars with my physical body. How can life not be a miracle? / Postcard 11*15cm