The sky in the mountain village is different from that in other places. It is very early. A street made of bluestone is like a belt running through the middle of the village. The stone slabs on the street have been worn into potholes. There are a few grass sprouts in the gap between the stone slabs and the stone slabs. In the evening, walking on the high and low street, I look up and squint. There are many tiled houses on both sides, all of which are low walls and fish scale like green and black tile troughs. There are clusters of white cooking smoke rising on the roof under the influence of the evening wind. Gradually, it becomes thin and soft. Finally, it fades and disappears in the village In the evening. On the river surface at the east end of the village, there are wisps of white gas floating on the river surface. The setting sun shines obliquely from the mountain in the West. It is like a gorgeous light blade across the water, and countless bright gold pieces float on the water surface. They jump in the sky and reflect on the rock wall on the opposite bank, forming a trance and changeable projection, which makes the wild pigeons in the cave coo and chirp together.