丰宁天马酒店·童话酒楼

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丰宁满族自治县北梁村天马飞行小镇
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The first rays of morning sunlight kissed the town's tarmac. Propellers cast swirling shadows across the lawn, like dancing buttons fastened to the earth. Men in flight suits tilted their heads back to adjust their goggles, their lenses capturing the entire sky, ready for flight. The colorful wooden houses along the street held hidden surprises. The aroma of coffee mingled with the crisp scent of jet fuel. The shopkeepers would point to old photos on the wall and say, "That year, someone took off from here and chased the aurora for three days." Bougainvillea covered the corner trellis, its petals occasionally swept away by the wind from a low-flying light aircraft, like a sprinkle of candy flakes scattered across the sky. In the afternoon, I visited the Aviation Museum. Retired model airplanes lay silent in their glass cases, yet I could still hear the roars of their former selves cleaving through the clouds. Children ran across the square, their shadows stretched long by the setting sun, connecting with the contrails of landing planes in the distance, forming a fairytale path across the ground. As dusk drifted over the rooftops, the lights of the open-air bar lit up. The pilots clinked their glasses and told stories of the sky, describing a cloud that resembled cotton candy and a breeze that smelled like the sea. Looking up, the moon hung atop a "Sky Horse" sculpture, as if in the next second, the entire town would gently soar into the sky, carrying all its longings with it. Time here passes slowly, so slowly that you can count the planes' paths across the sky; yet it also passes quickly, so quickly that everyone who visits is left with a heart etched in that unfinished flight. #TianmaFlyingTown #FairytaleGrasslandScenic ...
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