Lost time is never

Cave through the deal to sub-tunnel, our car finally usher in a bright, appears in the four sides of mountains, like frogs.
The small winding street is the waist of weeds, in our eyes have not fully meet the sunshine, under a stone in the tires caused severe turbulence, so that our bodies follow Yi Chan, panic under the care not surrounded by rugged mountains to magnificent, just be careful to see road driving. Less than two minutes, gravel path in front of us came a sharp turn, a rare scene we have just put down the heart also mentioned the throats.
Mountains surrounding tall and straight like a giant, massive landslides that make them black and blue, clothing, crude, dilapidated.
Foot of water potential of a wide raging river, big wave around, on the edge of the river, that is, we left the car in front of a crooked only a framework for building caught in a pile of carcasses. Just beside it, a red car at the top of black depression, lone exposure to ruins, could not find the direction of running.
Just below the ruins, looming half court, basketball stand against the failure is in the side of the fools can not afford such help, helpless looking up at the sky.
"Look, over there to have a flag!" Family suddenly exclaimed.
I looked down the direction of his fingers, on the basketball stand not far from a lone flagpole stand among the wreckage in the ruins, the flag because of long-term wind and rain, already dilapidated, close to the pin weak hanging, no flying momentum. Here is a year ago, people across the country worried about gripping the Yingxiu primary site.
Our car stopped and slowly crossed the stone bridge opened, we rushed to the train, stepping on a land of rubble, came to a river.
At this time the sun gentle, fine,, thin clouds, the river rushes, big wave bursts.
5.12 Yingxiu hardest hit by the earthquake, this time on the other side showing a vast expanse of ruins, quiet, desolate, dilapidated, people can not get near.
"Although a year has passed, I still feel very gripping watch." Families deep breath.
Yes, gripping, everywhere Duanbicanyuan are silent speak to us was breathtaking.
Earth shattering moment, Jingtao shore, riding the Housing crashing down, no time given cries of fear and despair of the eyes ......
We can not words, just lifting the camera keep hitting the shutter, and then ran to the front of the town. Mountain loop turn, we have only a few minutes to the center of Yingxiu.
People here are very few, very few, apart from a few roadside blue hue between the two plates of the house, only a few more to stay on the reconstruction of vehicles and road rollers.
Road on both sides, one side is close to the board room of the swirling secondary school population, as opposed to the other side of the road is the new board room Yingxiu primary school, very small, only one horizontal row of panels in the hospital room quietly. A huge billboard hanging in the street that says "post-earthquake reconstruction Yingxiu drawing general rules", below is a comparison of old and new landscape picture, great contrast, let me once again speechless.
Several street vendors are selling CDs and flowers mark the earthquake, look around, and almost no tourists here.
Xuan Hau Secondary School, which was once again about the place for people, then the door locked, clean hospital floor, a row of large stairs, stood back a piece of carved white stone clock pattern, the middle layer, leaning, broken , watch the pattern of time just 5.12 points to three numbers. This is a later repair to, which cross in the sidelong stairs, behind is a deep distortion of the teaching buildings collapsed.
From some empty windows and doors, tables and chairs can be seen lying on the ground, cracking the blackboard.
The side of the building is brand new a giant memorial, carved below the three white wreath, is said to have been standing here, Premier Wen Jiabao talked about touching stories.
A man under the stairs of the platform is placed flowers look extremely pious.
We stood silently looking at the school in front of the campus, behind the local people have said: "Every night, they heard the speech many children inside.", We suddenly looks nervous.
Can not imagine, how many here quietly disappeared was young, but also how many very young faces of hiding them off, they used to be flowers of the motherland and the parents Jiao Son ......
Since the moment the earthquake, they quietly hidden, name desolate, permanent silence in dust on the back, so that night the moon pieces in the wine bowl, seemed so powerless. When spring comes, flowers to bloom, large and white, with the back of the sad, quiet light, counting those unfinished, until the deepening twilight, do not want to close my eyes eager.
Like I can not describe the edge of a farm open to those mountains of flowers, sitting in the grass and the trees standing in the Yi Keke, who lay on the earth's children, you are the seeds scattered by the wind, I am unable to say your name, but I want you 11 to wake up and want you to have become the most beautiful scenery this summer, although we are not met.
If you can, if I were God, I want to give you the longest childhood, aromatic rush out of the petals, encrusted sunny windows and doors;
I would like to give you under the crisp wind chimes singing, spring wearing Little Red Riding Hood;
I want to embrace your blessings, make you dance in my eyes, sleep, grow up.
Just want to give you everything, ah, I stand here and now, imagine the way you smile, the face of ruin, no matter how sincere my heart is always too pale, even the desire is a kind of superfluous.
"There is too quiet, people go an 'suck, let's go." Families look of sad suggestion.
So we drove silently away Yingxiu, ready to Siguniang Mountain ran, at this moment, gps repeatedly reminded us that the wrong way. The road to the street person, one inquired, in front of the road has been blocked Road debris can not pass, so we decided to go to the nearest Qingcheng Mountain Resort.
Passing Yingxiu a surprise, we meet not only the grief, despair, helplessness and there was nothing to return.
Lost time is never, like all the dead people from this quiet, sweet sleep.