Shangrao Journal: On the Eaves of Stilted Buildings and the Ridgelines of Extraordinary Mountains

## Shangrao Journal: On the Eaves of Stilted Buildings and the Ridgelines of Extraordinary Mountains When the first rays of dawn sweep across the stilted buildings of Huangling in Wuyuan, those wooden structures suspended on the mountainside display a breathtaking lightness. The layered eaves resemble outstretched wings, seemingly ready to carry the entire village into the clouds. These are not ordinary dwellings, but rather a grammar of dialogue between humans and mountains—written with suspended pillars, composed with staggered platforms, lifting life high into the mist-shrouded realm. The stilted buildings of Shangrao conceal the deepest survival wisdom of southern mountain dwellers. Arriving at Sixie Yancun, you can see century-old houses with pillars deeply embedded in rock crevices, their wooden textures infused with the body heat of generations. Local elders say that building stilted houses requires "borrowing three parts from the mountain's form, leaving seven parts for living space"—this philosophy of both challenging and compromising with nature makes the architecture an extension of the mountain. Watching from Rainbow Bridge after a heavy rain, with mist surging through the suspended space beneath the stilted buildings, it seemed like a fairyland. I suddenly understood why Taoist culture took root here—when people dwell between heaven and earth rather than above them, they naturally comprehend "following the way of nature." The extraordinary peaks of Sanqing Mountain are truly natural miracles. While ascending by cable car, granite peaks rise like swords pointing to the sky, with millions of years of geological movement leaving the most unrestrained strokes. The "Giant Python Emerging from the Mountain" rock formation appears and disappears in the clouds, while the profile of the Oriental Goddess Rock is gilded by the setting sun—these masterpieces carved by time humble all human art. Most stunning is the West Coast Plank Road, walking along the suspended corridor on a vertical cliff, watching the sea of clouds surge below, one understands the reverence behind the ancient saying: "Dare not speak loudly, lest it disturb the heavenly beings." On the spiritual mountain, I encountered tea pickers carrying bamboo baskets, moving across nearly vertical tea gardens, their figures blending with the extraordinary peaks behind them. This is perhaps Shangrao's most touching scenery—the smoke rising from stilted buildings shares the same color as the glow of the Danxia landforms, and the folk songs hummed by tea pickers harmonize with the mountain streams. While modern civilization continuously creates rifts between humans and nature, this land still maintains an ancient rapport. In the twilight, the maple leaves of Shicheng are blood-red. Sitting on the "beauty rest" of a stilted building, I watch light and shadow flow between the mountains. Suddenly I realize: Shangrao's beauty lies in how it allows warm human life to grow from steep cliffs, and soft living textures to be wrapped in hard granite. Every scene here tells how humans can poetically dwell upon the earth.