Crescent Moon Spring in Dunhuang: The Beautiful Eye of the Desert

Crescent Moon Spring, like a bright eye, remains spirited even amidst howling winds and rolling yellow sand. — Prelude

After touring Northern Xinjiang, we planned to return by train. A practical issue arose: on the way there, anticipation kept us going, suppressing the boredom and fatigue of the long journey. But on the way back, it was different—over 50 hours of non-stop travel, day and night, could easily wear us down.

So, with a flourish, we made a swift decision and split the return trip into three segments, taking the opportunity to visit Dunhuang and Crescent Moon Spring in Gansu, as well as Mount Li and the Terracotta Warriors in Xi'an.

However, things were far simpler than imagined. On the morning of August 4, 2017, we arrived in Dunhuang excitedly, only to be told that only 6,000 tickets were available per day, and all for August had already been sold out.

There were emergency tickets online that could be bought on the spot—12,000 per day—but they were only available for the day after tomorrow. Being far from home, we couldn't afford to wait, so we settled for visiting the museum, barely counting as having been to Dunhuang.

"Dun means vast; Huang means prosperous." This place played a crucial role in developing the vast Western Regions, hence the name Dunhuang.

Mingsha Mountain is located on the outskirts of Dunhuang city, reachable directly by bus. The midday heat was unbearable; going to the desert under the scorching sun might make people think we were crazy. We heard that the scenic area is also open at night, so we chose to go in the evening.

Entering the Mingsha Mountain scenic area, wow! Everywhere fine golden sand, pure without a trace of impurity. But upon closer inspection, the sand grains came in five colors—red, yellow, green, white, and black—called "five-colored sand."

For thousands of years, this sand has been praised as golden yellow, soft as silk, gentle as a maiden, and beautiful as a phoenix. The sand must feel immensely proud. So, whenever the wind blows, the sand mountain rumbles joyfully, like thousands of troops charging on the battlefield—hence the name "Mingsha" (Singing Sand).

Strictly speaking, this was my first time visiting a pure desert, and my heart rippled with excitement. I just looked around, forgetting the sun overhead that was tirelessly spraying heat.

Looking down, the sand waves rippled gently, sometimes swift, sometimes slow, sometimes swirling, sometimes flat—a delightful pattern.

Looking up, the sunlight struck harshly. The blue sky, white clouds, sand sea, camel caravans, tourists... formed a solemn and mysterious picture.

You may not have heard of Mingsha Mountain, but you must know Crescent Moon Spring. It can be said that Mingsha Mountain created Crescent Moon Spring, and Crescent Moon Spring fulfilled Mingsha Mountain.

Under the scorching, dry, intensely evaporating desert climate, a clear spring dares to exist so brazenly—it's almost against the laws of nature.

It is said that Crescent Moon Spring has not dried up thanks to the continuous supply from the underground water system of the Dang River; it has not been buried because of its unique geographical location—no matter how hard the sand blows, it cannot reach the water.

Over millennia, many famous cities, fortresses, passes, villages, and farmlands in the Hexi Corridor have been buried. The fierce wind and sand swallowed centuries of glory and prosperity. Although Mingsha Mountain's "sand roars like thunder, shaking for miles," Crescent Moon Spring remains "a pool of clear water with green ripples"—this is indeed a miracle. Crescent Moon Spring naturally became a diamond in Mingsha Mountain, and it is no exaggeration to call it "the first spring in the desert."

Its curved outline resembles a crescent moon hanging low. A gentle breeze rustles the reeds. "Beautiful Crescent Moon Spring, it is the mirror of the sky, the eye of the desert." The soft and melodious song "Crescent Moon Spring" echoes in the hearts of every visitor. The spring water neither moved by wind nor filled by sand, a pristine wonder that draws admiration.

Mingsha Mountain is essentially just a few huge sand dunes, but climbing them is quite challenging. Although a long wooden ladder lay flat against the slope, the sand below was particularly soft and clingy, constantly kissing our feet. Many tourists simply left the ladder and trudged deep step after deeper step on the dunes. From afar, they looked like penguins learning to walk.

Finally reaching the summit. Looking far into the distance, the sand peaks undulated, surging like a yellow-stained blue sea, the sky and earth opening up wide. Visitors sat, lay, walked, or ran, embracing the yellow sand in their own ways.

I gazed deeply at the endless desert, thinking of how the Western Han Dynasty drove the fearsome, hateful, annoying, yet pitiful Xiongnu to this desolate northern desert.

The warm sun slowly set, and the number of visitors increased. Many sisters and sisters-in-law who looked somewhat like beauties still wore hats, scarves, and sunglasses, wrapping themselves up like "mummies."

Looking down from the top, the dune was steep and high. We mustered our courage and tried running down a few steps. Ha, the friction of our feet was strong—no need to worry about braking or falling headfirst. Everyone instantly turned into playful children, carrying shoes, barefoot, and rushing down with shouts of joy. Kicking up a handful of sand added a bit more happiness.

Speaking of Mingsha Mountain, the camel team cannot be ignored. Here, over a thousand camels are "ready and waiting," working tirelessly from dawn to dusk. One camel can carry seven passengers a day, but even that cannot meet the demand of nearly 8,000 tourists during National Day Golden Week. The camels have to carry on and on. It was reported that during the 2012 National Day holiday, so many tourists visited Mingsha Mountain that several camels died from exhaustion.

Over a thousand camels formed a long S-shaped line, moving slowly through the desert against the backdrop of the setting sun and yellow sand—how spectacular, how eye-catching. At first glance, one might feel transported to the bustling ancient Silk Road. I wonder if ancient merchants, to resist wind, sand, and bandits, would travel in groups of hundreds or thousands.

Some say that if you don't ride a camel, you haven't truly been to Mingsha Mountain. But I beg to differ. In the scorching summer heat, carefully lying on a camel with its strong smell, bumping slowly through the desert for over an hour—it's really not something an impatient person like me would enjoy.

That day, we played until the sun set at nine o'clock. My wife said it was the happiest day in over ten days of our Northwest trip. Unexpectedly, the charm of beautiful Xinjiang was stolen by this little Mingsha Mountain.

As night fell, we went to the local night market. The most impressive sight was piles of goji berries—red and blue mixed, piled up like mountains. The water steeped with goji berries emitted a mysterious and tempting luster. At a small restaurant, I ordered a plate of beef noodles with oil. Compared to Qitai County, there was still a noticeable gap.