In the early morning, before the mist had completely dissipated, I drove my vehicle away from the noisy city and headed towards Shishan Town, southwest of Haikou.
The scenery outside the car window is like a slowly unfolding picture scroll. The reinforced concrete jungle gradually recedes and is replaced by the continuous lychee forest and the alpine banyan trees with branches and leaves dancing in the wind.
There seemed to be something calling in the sky, causing the wheels to drive uncontrollably towards the area that had left significant traces in the history of geological development.
This is a spiritual exile that requires no planning. It is a short-term residence of the urban soul, among volcanic rocks and tropical monsoons.
The time code deep in the veins
Stepping into the park gate, the dark-colored trails beneath your feet are paved with volcanic rocks, which are the first to tell the story of the foundation of this land.
Raising my eyes and looking into the distance, I saw that the tropical monsoon forest looks like a vast ocean. The aerial roots of the banyan tree hang down like a curtain. The wild pineapple stretches its long leaves with spikes, giving off an oily sheen in the early morning light.
Going deeper into the winding path, the air begins to become more humid and sweeter. This is a natural fragrance formed by the mixture of negative oxygen ions and plant volatiles.
Walking to the Jinjiling Observation Deck and looking at the entire volcano group in the distance, you can see that the Ma'anling Crater looks like a huge green bowl upside down on the ground. Its outline can be clearly distinguished, with the main peak and two secondary peaks cuddling together. The local people call it "Fenglu Ridge" because the shape is similar to the earthen stoves used for cooking in the past. The connotation of this simple name hides the ancestors' daily gaze and emotional connection with this land.
Stone nostalgia in the volcanic village
Walking through the forest path, you have unknowingly stepped onto the edge of Rongtang Ancient Village .
This is a village built with volcanic stones. Every stone is dark gray. These stones are covered with fine pores, which are traces of breathing, left behind after the magma boiled hundreds of millions of years ago.
The sun's rays pass through the branches and leaves of the ancient banyan tree, reflecting some variegated light and shadow on the stone wall, as if time has slowed down here.
In the village, the old people who stayed in place were using tools like volcanic stone mortars to grind rice. The "dong-dong" sound they made was exactly the same as it was a hundred years ago.
Every stone here is full of the survival wisdom of Qiongbei folk houses. This wisdom lies in using the heat insulation and moisture-proof properties of volcanic stone to achieve the effect of keeping warm in winter and cool in summer. With this property, it can withstand the invasion of wind, rain and scorching heat on the island.
In the depths of the ancient village, there is a section of collapsed stone wall, which is covered with pomegranates. The pomegranates have numerous fruits, showing a state of accumulation, and the color is green, as if it can drip water. The tenacious characteristics of life and the heavy feeling of history are gently blended at this moment.
Volcano Temples and Mountain Worships
Continuing up the stone steps, a volcano temple stands quietly on the mountainside.
There is a temple, which is not large in scale, but the incense is extremely strong. There are wood carvings and murals on the lintel of the temple. Although it has been damaged by wind and rain, it seems that the appearance of Thunder God, Lightning Mother, Feng Bo and Rain Master can still be vaguely seen.
This is the material carrier of the ancient Qiongbei ancestors ' awe and worship of volcanoes.
On the eighth day of the fourth lunar month, surrounding villagers will still gather here to hold a mountain worship ceremony that has been passed down from ancient times to this day, in order to pray to the volcano god for smooth weather, sufficient rain, and to keep their homes safe.
The incense burner in front of the temple was filled with unburned incense sticks. Wisps of green smoke rose straight into the sky and merged with the gauze-like mist in the mountains.
This curling smoke carries the sincere respect and humble attitude of mankind when facing the powerful force of nature over thousands of years. It is a living folk custom, and it is also a history book without written records of its actual content.
Next to the temple, there is an extremely huge alpine fig. Its aerial roots take the shape of a coiled dragon and tightly wrap the volcanic rock, as if it wants to embrace the gods contained in the stone. In this place, nature and faith have reached an eternal tacit understanding.
The vicissitudes of life at the top of the crater
The moment I climbed to the top of the Ma'anling crater, I suddenly felt enlightened.
The huge crater is like the eye of the earth, looking up to the sky.
On the inner wall of the crater, ferns and moss woven together into a thick green blanket, gently covering the heat and violence of the past.
Walking down the trail to the bottom of the pit, the humidity suddenly increases, the light is dim, and it feels like another world.
Looking up, the skylight at the entrance of the cave is cut into countless light spots by the tree crown, floating down.
This dormant volcano , which has been dormant for tens of thousands of years, has now become a paradise for plants and birds.
Climb to the commanding heights of Haikou and look around. To the north is the Qiongzhou Strait with vast expanse of blue waves, showing a scene of sea and sky, with dots of sail shadows; to the south is the Yangshan area with rolling green waves, and tens of thousands of acres of lychee flowers are in bud.
At the moment, the two geological landscapes, sea erosion and volcanoes, which are very different, merge with each other within the same field of vision, causing people to sigh with emotion at the change of the world - the ground under their feet is the remnant of the violent eruptions of the earth in the past, and what is presented in front of them is the ocean that never stops flowing. There are extremely beautiful scenes in the heaven and earth but no words to describe them, and we are just very brief passers-by on these time and space coordinates.
The taste memory of Shishan Sheep and Volcano Coffee
When going down the mountain, find a stone bench to sit at the crater restaurant at the foot of the mountain.
Order a bowl of the unique local Shishan mutton soup base. The mutton is tender and has no odor. The color of the soup is milky white and filled with wisps of heat. A small handful of chopped green onion is sprinkled into the steaming hot atmosphere. When you enter the mouth, you will be filled with the fragrance of the vegetation in the volcanic area.
I ordered another cup of volcanic coffee, which is made from coffee beans cultivated in volcanic soil. I took a small sip and tasted it. The mellow taste was slightly sour, and the aftertaste secretly conveyed the sweet taste of caramel.
This unique taste comes from the brick red soil weathered by volcanic eruptions. This brick red soil is rich in minerals and trace elements, which in turn nourishes the unique style of this soil and water.
The old man next to him told the legend of the "Seventy-Two Volcanic Cave" in Hainanese, claiming that the cave once contained pirate treasures and was also a refuge for villagers to avoid war.
Part of the human memory of this land are these oral stories. They are like this cup of coffee, which becomes more mellow as time passes.
As dusk fell, I reluctantly embarked on my return journey.
Outside the car window, the setting sun dyed the volcanic rocks into a warm ocher red. The silent stones, the woods with lush branches and leaves, and the quaint villages gradually became blurred in the evening clouds and mist, and finally turned into the lush greenery in my heart.
Haikou Crater Geopark is not just a geological relic, it is a history book written in stone, a poem sung by vegetation, and a philosophy of life that is continued through folk customs.
On the way back, my lungs were filled with the breath of the volcano, and tens of thousands of years of time were reflected in my eyes. Such a short escape turned into a soul reunion after a long separation.
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