Legends tell of the old, long tracks

Stepping onto the rust-streaked rails is like traveling back through time. The iron tracks underfoot once carried countless dreams and hopes. Though trains no longer thunder past, the tracks still quietly recount their former glory. Walking along the tracks, the scenery on both sides is picturesque. Trees provide shade, a gentle breeze stirs, and the rustling of leaves seems to play a symphony for the silent rails. Wildflowers and grasses grow unrestrained by the tracks, seemingly indifferent to the world's clamor, enjoying their own peace and freedom. Around the tracks, scattered remains of abandoned carriages and railway facilities can be found. These once industrial marvels have now become witnesses to history. Touching the rough exterior of the carriages, feeling the marks left by time, a sense of inexplicable emotion wells up. They have witnessed the changes of the times and the development and prosperity of the land beyond the river. Strolling on the tracks, my thoughts drift. I seem to see the busy figures of the workers from years past, hear the echo of train whistles in the air. This place was once a vital artery of transport, a bridge to the outside world. Though it has now retired from the stage of history, the spirit it embodies will never fade. The old tracks beyond the river are not just a memory of history, but also a repository of emotions. Here, we can temporarily forget the troubles of reality and immerse ourselves in the sweet memories of the past. It reminds us that although time may take away many things, those precious moments and memories will forever remain in our hearts. As the sun sets and its afterglow falls upon the tracks, the entire scene resembles a golden tapestry. I slowly leave this place full of stories, but my heart stays here forever, within the memories of these old tracks.