According to legend, in 641 AD, Princess Wencheng married far away in Tibet, and Emperor Taizong bestowed a twelve-year-old Buddha statue of Sakyamuni. When the welcoming team walked on the Tagong grassland, the Buddha statue fell and did not want to move forward. Everyone tried every means but could not move it. At this moment, the Buddha statue speaks: keep this place. In desperation, Princess Wencheng ordered the collection of sand gold and made a copy of the Buddha statue to stay in the Tagong grassland. Since then, Tagong Grassland has been famous in the Sichuan-Tibet Plateau...
Whenever I enter Sichuan and Tibet, Tagong, Hongyuan, Zoige, and other large grasslands are all my must pass.
In the summer and autumn, the breeze is peaceful, the vast grassland can't be seen to the end, the bizarre wildflowers are rushing to bloom, the black tents that stand by the water curl up with smoke, and the breeze comes from time to time with the aroma of milk tea. Herds of cattle are scattered leisurely on the grass, flower scent is overflowing, bees and butterflies are flying. In the distance, the sacred mountain of Yala draped in silver, rose from the ground, quietly guarding Tagong Grassland.
Indeed, this is really a happy place that you don't want to leave when you come. The Buddha stayed for it, leaving a beautiful legend behind, the Tagong Grassland that you don’t want to leave after you stay...
I can’t remember how many times I walked into the Tagong Grassland. It was a morning when the dawn just begin. Among the yak herd in front of a black tent, a Tibetan woman was busy milking. A lively scene of work was in front of me... I grabbed the camera and flashed the shutter continuously, leaving a series of unforgettable moments. At this time, the male host walked out of the tent, followed by three children, smiled and invited me into the tent as a guest. Upon entering the tent, the tent appeared to be very spacious. The fire pit in the center was burning with cow dung, mixing with dry grass and filled the area with a strong smell. Thick smoke rose from the skylight on the roof, sweeping the chill on the grassland warmly and comfortably. An amiable breath emerged spontaneously...
A few small calves were tied to the right side of the tent, curiously looking at strangers. On the left is a simple cabinet and bed, a shrine is enshrined by the canopy at the back of the fire pit, and a few Tibetan incense sticks are emitting green smoke. I took out the cigarette with respectful hands and handed it to the owner. We sat around the firepit to pull up the domestic trivia. The host saw me turning my head to look at the calves from time to time, and said knowingly: It’s cold at night, afraid of freezing them, they are all tied to the tent, milking is done outside, they will be release to drink milk later, there will be enough for them to drink.
During the conversation, the hostess walked in with a bucket full of fresh milk, and after pouring the milk into a wooden bucket, the little calves were released.
The brick tea soup that was cooked in the big pot on the fire pond gradually turned red. The host took out the tea bag from the pot, added salt, sugar, and a few pieces of ghee to the tea soup, stirred it continuously and burned it on a warm fire until the water and oil blended into butter tea.
The host filled a wooden bowl with buttered tea and handed it to me. I respectfully accepted the steaming buttered tea with both hands. I dipped a little milk tea with my hands and sprinkled it to the sky three times and sipped it lightly. The creamy taste is unique and mellow. I pointed to the butter tea cube next to me and asked how the master made the milk into butter? He said: After the milk in the wooden barrel was fermented overnight, it was poured into the ghee barrel, and after twitching the ghee barrel hundreds of times with the "Jaluo" milking tool, the oil in the milk separated and floated on the surface. Pick up the oil slick, put it in a basin of cold water, and knead it repeatedly to form a flat round butterball...
Bid farewell to the owner, walked out of the tent, the cattle in front of the tent have rushed to the distant grassland to graze. The hostess was busy picking up the dung pulled down by the cows overnight. She picked up steaming cow dung from the ground with both hands and piled them up. After they were dried in the wind, they were used as fuel for cooking.
Seeing me walking out of the tent, she smiled back and gave a kind "Tashi Delek" blessing. My heart was instantly melted...
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