Grass waves between hooves: the moving epic of the herds in northern Xinjiang

The northern Xinjiang grassland in summer is a roll of green silk slowly spread out by the hooves of cattle and sheep. When the morning mist fades, the snow-capped peaks of the Altai Mountains outline silver edges in the sky, and the meadow awakens to become the kingdom of herds - the sheep fall to the earth like clouds, slowly steaming between the slopes and valleys; the yaks are like ink dots scattered on the green carpet, and their backs bulge like mountain arcs when they lower their heads to nibble; the horses are the most unruly, with long manes shaking off dewdrops, carrying the long tunes of Kazakh herdsmen and running towards the stream. The herdsmen ride their horses through it, and with a light tap of the wooden stick, the sheep follow the millennium migration code. The three-year-old lamb suddenly jumps over the slanting shadow of the yurt, and the call of the ewe is rubbed into a fine whisper by the wind; in the distance, the brown and white cows stand on the top of the grass waves, silent like the annual rings of the earth. Occasionally, a goshawk flies by, startling a tide of bells - those are the copper bells tied around the necks of the head sheep, and the jingling sound measures the depth of the season. The most spectacular time is during the migration season. Before the frost falls in September, millions of livestock move along the pastoral path (Qor'a) like a migrating river. Dust flows over the mountain ridges, the panting of cattle and sheep mingles with the whistles of the shepherds, and the sound of hooves shakes off the golden leaves on the branches of birch trees, creating an endless pulse in the wilderness. #summervacay #thingstodo #myitinerary #familytravel #travel