我徒步穿过山下的炎炎夏季,进入山上的寒寒冬天。我打算翻过冰达坂,去拍摄山那边的草原。我听说过,冰达坂有条路,却没人说得清那条路存在的时间。我走过无数条难走的路,我自信,有路,我就能走。那路,似乎隐匿在冰雪里。我听见一声打招呼性质的干咳,像是冰达坂发出的声音——冰块落在冰块上的声音。一位穿着翻毛羊皮大衣、戴着巴达姆小花帽的汉子,扛着一把冰镐,手在空中划了个弧,说:“你要从山这边,去山那边?” I walked through the mountains in the scorching summer and entered the cold winter of the mountains. I plan to turn over the ice and shoot the grassland on the other side of the mountain. I have heard that there is a way for the ice, but no one can tell when the road exists. I have walked through countless difficult roads. I am confident and have a path. I can walk. The road seems to hide in the snow. I heard a dry cough that sounded like hell, like the sound of ice and cymbals—the sound of ice falling on ice cubes. A man wearing a sheepskin coat and wearing a flower hat from Badamu took a handful of hailstones and drew an arc in the air. He said: “Will you go from the mountain side to the mountain?”