Kangwu Dasi Review

The Tibetan language of Kangwu Da Temple is called it in the plateau pastoral area, more than 3,000 and 60 meters above sea level. It is the second largest monastery in Muli, more than 30 kilometers away from the county seat. The monastery is located on the hillside of the eagle-like hill between the two mountains and streams. Surrounded by dense virgin forests, ancient trees cover the sky and the sun.

Feel the pure spirit with a pious heart. May you and your family be safe and happy!

In August, I came to Muli, a less well-known place at the junction of Sichuan, Yunnan and Tibet. The first stop in Muli was Kangwu Temple. On the way to Kangwu Temple, a turn was a landscape. From the valley to the foothills, it seemed to pass through several worlds. In Muli, almost everyone knows the story of Kangwu Da Temple. The legendary bell of the Da Temple revived a horse gang. It is said that there is a year of heavy snow almost buried the horse gang alive. Suddenly the bell of Kangwu Da Temple sounded, giving the horse gangs great mental energy and physical energy. The horses in the snow stand up and move on, which makes Kangwu Temple more sacred. Although this road is bumpy, it seems to have found the feeling of travel, it is great. #Grab the tail of summer

The area is about two large Muli counties in Shanghai, and there is very few flat land. Qiaowa Town can only be built on the mountain. As soon as I left the county, I was hung on the cliffs. The narrow road was a sharp cliff on one side and a deep canyon on the other. At an intersection marked with tea brown signs, the car turned right out of the valley, the most flat asphalt road in three days. Along the way, the lanes were getting thinner and thinner, as if only one car. As we approached the top of the mountain, the driveway suddenly became a bow back, looking back, and then looking back, it was empty three times, and it felt like we were going straight into the blue sky! Beauty is beautiful, more dangerous! Immediately high-gang, trembling all over. On the wonderful hillside, the paradise-like Kangwu Temple seems to have never been disturbed for thousands of years. The quietness here is unbearable to think. Two clear streams flow gently between them. The peaks are surrounded by Buddhas who listen to the law. The forest is dense and the ancient trees are towering. The pastures are spread like silk carpets; the rhododendrons, although regrettable not the flowering season, are more open to the beautiful imagination of the flowering space. There are not many tourists here, and some are almost all devout believers. The rotating prayer wheel shines the light of faith, and the warm flow on the white wall. The voice of the believer, the soothing transmission of the threads into the ear, makes you feel mysterious warmth and inner touch. I looked up as I left, and an old lama was standing outside the temple beside the pile of lama watching us leave, and the wind blew his large robe and the surrounding scriptures, and the evening embers reflected him and the pile into a silhouette. Except that the wind was too strong, everything was silent at the moment. As the evening shrouded the mountains, I drove to Wuhu on the empty road, chewing the customs of the wood in silence: the uncanny wonderland of the mountains, where gold and medieval riches contrasted sharply with cream lamps and pine torches.