Conghua Guifeng Village: Plum Blossoms in Full White Bloom, Creating a 'Snowfield' in Guangdong

📍 Guangzhou · 👁 3579 reads · ❤️ 26 likes

Guangzhou doesn’t get snow, so locals like to describe white landscapes as 'snow.' For example, white plum blossoms and plum blossoms are called 'white snow,' and viewing them is called 'snow appreciation.' Thus, scenic spots like Liuxi Xiangxue, Luogang Xiangxue, and Guangdong’s 'Nyingchi'—Guifeng Mountain—are created. While the north suffers through foggy, freezing winter days with the comfort of indoor heating, southern Guangdong sees no trace of snow. People always long for distant sights and feelings. At this time of year, many Guangzhou residents fly thousands of miles to Harbin, risking overpriced fares, just to see snow in the snow towns, often overlooking the beauty right before their eyes. With winter sun as warm as summer, most Cantonese can't travel the long journey north to search for snow, so they look north and sigh. But imaginative humans always manage to create wonders to satisfy their desires.

The snow-white plum blossoms have been written into countless poems, praised for their pure, flawless whiteness.

This untitled poem is actually the origin of the great poet Li Bai’s name. Legend has it that when Li Bai was seven, his father wanted to give him an official name. Both his parents were avid readers and wanted to raise their son to be elegant and refined. The father often taught the boy to read and compose poetry. While considering a name, he and the mother decided to test the child’s poetic ability during a stroll in the courtyard.

Looking at the lush trees and splendid blossoms in the spring courtyard, the father recited, 'Spring warmth brings all flowers to bloom, greeting spring with gold they lead the way.' The mother followed with, 'Burning leaf forests shed red clouds.' Li Bai knew his parents had purposely left the final line for him. He walked up to the blooming plum tree, thought a moment, and said, 'Plum blossoms burst into full white bloom on one tree.'

'White'—doesn’t it capture the pure elegance of the plum blossoms? The father had a flash of inspiration and decided to use the first and last characters of the line, 'Li' and 'Bai,' as his son’s name, thus naming the seven-year-old 'Li Bai.'

I was truly ignorant; only now did I learn that the great poet Li Bai’s name is connected to plum blossoms.

Song Dynasty Wang Anshi’s 'Plum Blossoms' depicts them like this:

'Pluck peach blossoms in the morning, their red breaking through the calyx; do not pluck plum blossoms, their branches laden thick.

The traveler’s heart surges as the east wind grows strong; how long can one hold wine and gaze at flowers?'

Song Dynasty Yang Wanli’s 'Plum Blossoms in the Mountain Estate':

'The mountain estate reports again that plum blossoms are thick; I rush to see them in the fine rain.

Apart from heart-wrenching snow on a thousand trees, I have no other spring sorrow to tell the east wind.'

Song Dynasty Cai Xiang’s 'Thoughts on Late Plum Blossoms at Wangtai Post Station':

'Jade Capital fairies love the spring fragrance, touching every precious branch and sniffing all their scent.

Only these flowers understand old sentiments, again drifting with the wind over the eastern wall.'

Ming Dynasty Li Mengyang’s 'Singing of Plum Blossoms':

'Ten thousand plum trees east of the city, this one alone is fresh and rare.

All day long the wind blows them open and down; no one knows about it but me.'

Qing Dynasty Qiu Fengjia’s 'Plum Blossoms':

'West of the oyster-shell wall the sun sets easily; seeking spring tidings only brings spring sorrow.

Plum blossoms bloom and fall in the east wind, the departing one sighs and breaks their heart.'

At first glance, these poems all depict plum blossoms as white as snow, with a subtle fragrance that captivates.

I heard that Conghua Guifeng Village is a great place to appreciate plum blossoms (plum blossoms, not pear blossoms). So on January 28, before the Chinese New Year, I came here.

Carved characters on a stone, with many villagers welcoming your arrival.

Guifeng Village is the largest Sanhua plum planting base in Southeast Asia, and ranks first among the 100,000 mu of plum blossoms in Liutian Town. The Sanhua plums harvested in summer are an important source of income for the village, while the plum blossoms in winter attract tourists—truly killing two birds with one stone.

It’s often said that plum blossoms have three ‘movements’ (like 'three variations of plum blossoms'). Did you know that? Plum blossoms generally bloom around the beginning of spring. At first, the trees are all flowers with no leaves, a snowy white scene—that's the first movement. Gradually, new leaves emerge among the blossoms, adding a vibrant touch of green to the vast white sea of flowers—that’s the second movement. The third movement is when flowers and leaves intermingle. What we see now is probably the first movement of plum blossoms.

As early winter sets in, the plum blossoms in Guifeng Village rush to bloom, blanketing the area like white snow, dotting the green mountains and fields—so beautiful it’s breathtaking.

In this tranquil little village with curling cooking smoke, plum blossoms burst forth around every house. Step out your door and you see flowers—what a delightful life. Walking along the field paths, the air is filled with their fragrance.

The plum blossoms here have bloomed into a sea of snow, clusters of white dots adorning the green hills, dense and layered, creating a wonderful world of ‘thousands of trees with thousands of plum blossoms.’ It’s stunning, and describing them as wildly unrestrained isn’t an exaggeration.

Plum blossoms in full bloom make each tree white, with flowers but no leaves visible. The hillsides are covered in plum blossoms, like white snow hanging from branches, silver-clad as if in a fairy-tale world—so beautiful!

Plum blossoms lack the romance of cherry blossoms or the charm of peach blossoms, but they are clear and pure as snow, so thoroughly white, so ethereally beautiful they seem otherworldly—a kind of pure innocence that inspires tender affection.

One patch of ‘snow’ after another drifts to the foot of Guifeng Mountain, clusters of plum blossoms nestle against low houses and field ridges. This leisurely, peaceful village life lacks the hustle and bustle of city worries.

The ‘snow’ here is plum blossoms. In the harsh winter, these blossoms open white flowers, each and every one hanging on branches, vying to bloom like drifting snow. With a heart longing to see snow, the plum blossoms truly resemble it. From afar, each plum tree looks like snow-white snowflakes; the blooming plums stretch everywhere, linking to the horizon.

The hills are all a vast expanse of white, with a 5-kilometer-long fragrant path of plum blossoms and a 267-hectare sea of pure white plum flowers, each blossom even more beautiful than spring snow. Strolling under the canopies of snow-white plum blossoms, close your eyes and breathe in this pristine atmosphere, surrounded by the unique fragrance of plum blossoms in full bloom... Without deliberately listening, you can already hear the sound of bees like a mighty army coming to collect nectar.

Plum trees are relatively short, so visitors can easily get up close to the flowers. Several tourists in my group each brought multiple sets of clothes to photograph themselves under the plum blossoms. I occasionally saw them in all kinds of poses and styles—just click and you get a beautiful shot. Unfortunately, the weather was bad, and without a blue sky as a backdrop, the plum blossoms were just a monotonous white.

I wore a long purple dress, walking along the country paths and through the snowy white plum forest, listening to the wind rustling through the flower sea, watching the flowering branches sway and ripple, with petal after petal dancing in the air—a feast for the eyes. Now and then I’d smell the fragrance, gently touch the blossoms. Some small, exquisite beauty crept in quietly; in an instant, all worldly dust fell away, all pretenses washed clean, leaving only nature’s purity and whiteness.

I love strolling on mountain paths filled with little white and purple wildflowers. They surround your feet, burying your lower legs. Looking around, you’re enveloped by snow-white plum blossoms, branches crisscrossing every which way, flowers small and beautiful, in clusters, a graceful picture filling your sight.

(Thanks to classmate Cai for the portrait photo trick)

Hiding among the wildflowers, smiling at the view of white 'snow.'

The chickens, ducks, and geese under the plum trees live such a carefree life.

The arrival of tourists has also brought a road to prosperity for local villagers. Farmhouse restaurants are fully booked on weekends, and many tourists buy specialties like Liutian giant mustard greens before leaving. Many villagers take advantage of the crowds to set up stalls along the roads near the blossom-viewing spots, selling home-grown sweet potatoes, taro, tofu pudding, winter honey, crispy plums, dried sweet potato, winter bamboo shoots, oil cakes, and other local delicacies, along with tables and chairs.

Dining at a farmhouse under the plum blossom trees—a stuffed tofu and a plate of stir-fried choi sum, genuine and honest, full of bean and meat aromas, and a rich rustic flavor that fills your taste buds—the satisfaction is written all over your face.

After eating my fill, I didn’t forget to buy some to take home. The giant mustard greens and choi sum were very fresh and tender, only 1.2 to 2 yuan per jin. I spent just 6.6 yuan to buy 4 jin of green leafy vegetables—vegetables that would cost 8, 9, or even over 10 yuan per jin in Guangzhou supermarkets.

Plum blossoms become a ‘snowfield,’ showing how the cultural spirit of southern Guangdong embraces all, drawing the essence of heaven and earth, and creating the energy for people to pursue and fulfill their dreams!

(2269 2022/2/2)