Spring Colors Blanket Qionglong—Shouldering a Tree of Blossoms to See You

Text and photos by Ying Zhigang

Spring comes to Jiangnan: ten miles of misty villages, ten miles of flowers. It’s the season for spring outings, with grass growing, orioles flying, outside Gusu City.

After the peach and plum blossoms have had their competition, the vast Qionglong Mountain lets the cherry blossoms compete in beauty, outshining the magnolias, outshining the sasanqua camellias, dancing with the spring breeze, entwining with the silky willows.

Now is just the right time to visit the mountain. The cherry blossoms are neither early nor late. When the wind rises, a shower of petals drifts down, and new blooms keep opening. Their cold, exquisite beauty becomes even more enchanting in the bright spring light.

'White snow, grudging spring’s late arrival, flits through courtyard trees like flying flowers.' On Qionglong Mountain, spring colors greet visitors in the guise of snow. After the apricot blossoms’ misty rain, pear blossoms and white magnolias take the stage as promised.

Back then it was still a little early. The early spring wind, the mountain wind, could pierce through puffy cotton coats. Flower viewers hunched their necks, their spirits as gloomy as the overcast sky, like a sneaky man whose tryst comes to nothing.

Now it's just right. The spring breeze is like an understanding, graceful woman—gentle, tender, soft hands brushing your face. Passing through the cherry blossom rain, let me teach you a line to sing: 'The spring breeze embraces me and kisses me.'

Whenever early spring flowers creep up Qionglong Mountain, time becomes extraordinarily cautious. Every minute, every second, must be carefully counted on fingers, like calculating the days bit by bit.

After enduring the long winter, the trees have prepared for this season’s bloom over a long, long stretch. Yet just a gust of wind, just a shower of rain, just a moment of your careless dozing, and the flowers fall, scattering petals all over the ground.

What’s falling is not really petals—it’s heart after heart that couldn’t withstand the passing years, couldn’t escape the cycle of seasons, wilting hearts.

In this spring, walking under such flowering trees, we need to give life a ritual.

Deep feelings or shallow ones, we must stand together with the flowers. Just like you’d wear a wedding dress for marriage, just as growing up demands homage, we must open our hearts and, in the instant of blooming and fading, gaze upon life’s wild blossoming and desolation.

Just like now, you’re standing beneath the flowering tree, having passed through winter, welcoming spring, heading toward a full-blown summer. In these years as plain as water, remember the shape of a single flower. After this, life will no longer be frantic, because we begin to understand that everything is the best possible arrangement.

The day I went to Qionglong Mountain, it was a clear, bright day. After the gloom had passed, people took off their masks in the hills. Embraced by warmth, I invited the breeze to dance. Sunshine, blossoms, a girl, the mountains a light green, poetry and romance woven together.

Hues of tender yellow and fresh green, every new leaf hiding vibrant life, radiating the power of existence in the sunlight. You can’t help wanting to pluck one, put it in your mouth, and taste the flavor of spring.

My aunt back home was making mugwort dumplings and asked if she should send me some. I gazed at the mountain draped in yellow and green and said offhandedly, in a few days the Chinese tallow leaves in Suzhou will be ready to pick; then we can make black rice.

A girl at the Half-hill Pavilion tossed her hair and said to the boy beside her, 'I really want to fall in love.' The boy was too shy. If it were me, I would never let this springtime go to waste—I’d give the girl I love a breathless kiss.

Later, the girl asked me to be her photographer and took a spring photo. Her smile was like a flower, the girl like a flower, but we were not destined for each other.

I always remember my grandfather’s words: every blade of grass and every tree in the mountains understands the mountain’s spirit, and people who walk deep into the mountains understand the wisdom of plants. Spring light waits for no one—it also awaits those fated to meet it.

Qionglong Mountain in spring is not only a season for flower viewing but also a wonderful time to cleanse your lungs.

Qionglong Mountain lies west of Suzhou city. Its main peak, Limao Peak, is 341.7 meters above sea level, the highest point in the Suzhou area. The scenic area covers about 1,340 hectares, with forest coverage reaching 99%. The PM2.5 level is only 20, and the negative oxygen ion content is 20,000 per square meter—about 500 times that of the city.

Qionglong Mountain has a long history and many cultural sights. Famous sites include Qionglong Temple, Sunwu Garden, Shangzhen Temple, Ningbang Temple, the Han Dynasty Zhu Maichen Reading Platform, and Maopengwu—Suzhou’s only primeval forest.

Maopengwu, with its 612 acres of primeval forest, is home to 37 plant communities. Dozens of precious tree species grow here, such as purple nan, bitter oak, linden, white oak, and sweetgum.

Streams murmur through the woods; the fragrance of plants and trees freshens the air. Walking here lifts the spirit and clears the mind.

Qionglong Mountain is also a treasure trove of Chinese herbal medicines. Over 150 varieties have been identified, including well-known ones like winged euonymus, codonopsis, notoginseng, and glossy ganoderma, as well as 'Qiongzhu' (Atractylodes macrocephala), named after the mountain itself.

These wild herbs, bathed in sunlight, give off a kind of 'spiritual energy.' Soaking in this place, the spring colors delight the eyes, and the mountains, streams, and plants nourish the body.