Taimu Mountain (Miscellaneous Notes on a 26-Day Trip to Fujian and Guangdong, Part 1)

On December 1, 2023, after settling matters at home, I began my journey through Fujian.

I had a rough direction, but no set itinerary—I would figure things out as I went.

What would guide me? Interest, energy, weather, transportation, and so on.

Taking a train shortly after 7 a.m., I found myself in the small town of Taimu Mountain in Fuding by noon.

The afternoon was clearly not enough for a climb, so I took a taxi to the nearby Niulanggang coast to see the sea.

In early autumn, I had walked the waves of the Bohai Sea; now in early winter, I breathed the sea wind of the East China Sea.

Back then, western Liaoning wasn't too cold; today, eastern Fujian isn't too hot.

I never tire of the jagged reefs and crashing waves.

Along the southeast coast, wherever there is sea, there are often remnants of defensive structures built against Japanese pirates.

After enjoying the sea, with time still to spare, I went to Liancheng Village in Fuding.

This is another stone fortress town associated with Qi Jiguang, once used as a grain depot—essentially a military unit for national livelihood and defense.

The old houses are mostly destroyed, but the fortress walls, the large banyan tree, the big camphor tree, and the descendants of border-guarding soldiers who have thrived here for generations tell visitors stories of those fiery years.

In autumn, I visited ancient fortresses along the Great Wall; in winter, I see garrison stations along the southeast coast.

Both were defensive strongholds for stationing troops—but in North China, they were village fortifications built by collective funds against nomadic incursions, while along the southeast coast, they were government-supervised, people-built structures to resist Japanese pirates.

The next morning, I climbed Taimu Mountain.

This is a famous mountain on the southeast coast, but it doesn't seem imposing before entering the scenic area.

Last year, I visited Tianmu Mountain in eastern Zhejiang; today, I arrived at Taimu Mountain in eastern Fujian.

The character '姥' is often misread as lǎo, but it actually carries the feminine tone 'mǔ'.

The character '姥' has the female radical, indicating that these are "goddess" mountains.

Like Fujian's Mazu, the ancient Minyue region likely held women in higher esteem. In this land where many gods are celebrated, one on land and one at sea gave birth to two goddesses, both from humble laboring backgrounds who, through cultivation, attained enlightenment and became deities.

Although Taimu Mountain has many spectacular peaks and strange rocks, and its terrain is more impressive than Tianmu Mountain, it seems to lag behind in fame and historical cultural status.

Why? It should be because history lacks the blessing of famous poets and their works. Over there, one poem—Li Bai's "Dreaming of Tianmu Mountain: A Farewell Song"—set an unattainable benchmark that no later poet or poem could reach.