川西 Western Sichuan

去川西，本来像是一场离家不远的远行。车子不断钻进山谷，海拔升高，云雾把森林、草甸和人的声音都放慢了。最难忘的不是某座雪山，而是孩子们在雾里走路、在草地上坐下、在冷雨里继续往前的样子。那些巨大的山体让我意识到，所谓旅行，有时候只是把人带到一个更辽阔的尺度里，重新学习安静。

Western Sichuan felt like a long journey that was still somehow close to home. The road kept sinking into valleys, the altitude rose, and the mist slowed the forests, meadows, and human voices. What stayed with me was not one famous mountain, but the children walking through fog, sitting on grass, and moving on in cold rain. The scale of the mountains made travel feel less like arrival than a quiet lesson in smallness.