Winter Trip to Dunhuang: Snow Falls on Danxia, a Millennium-old Cave Awaits Visitors

Who says Dunhuang is only for summer and autumn? The moment I stepped through the gate in December, I was amazed by this winter northwest. Snowflakes settled in the folds of the Danxia landform, making the reds more vivid and the whites purer. The wind on the Gobi Desert was crisp, clearing the mind. First, I stayed in Lanzhou. The Zhongshan Bridge was lit up at dusk, its piers reflected in the Yellow River like a string of glowing beads. Squatting by the roadside to eat a bowl of beef noodles, the spicy aroma made me sweat, and the hot soup chased away most of the travel fatigue. The next day, I took the high-speed train to Zhangye. The colorful Danxia in the afternoon coincided with sunset. The snow-covered rock layers looked like a spilled palette, with reds, yellows, and browns edged in white dazzling under the sunset. If you’re brave enough to take a hot air balloon ride, the landscape below looks like an open oil painting, with a surreal beauty even in the wind. When I arrived at Jiayuguan, the snow had just stopped. The fortress’s watchtower wore a white cap, and the distant Qilian Mountains looked like a silver thread. Standing on the city bricks and looking down, sparse footprints marked the snowy Gobi Desert, giving a more desolate grandeur than in peak season. The sculpture group stood in the snow, their silhouettes stretched long by the sunset. Raising the camera, even the shutter sound seemed afraid to disturb the quiet. The Mogao Caves in Dunhuang are the main attraction. In the uncrowded caves, the flying apsaras in the murals seemed to come alive. The guide’s voice was soft, as if afraid to disturb the thousand-year-old dust. In the afternoon, I went to Mingsha Mountain. Snow covered the sand dunes like a layer of sugar frosting, crunching underfoot. Occasionally, a camel caravan passed by, the bell sounds echoing in the air, distant as if coming from history. Visiting here in winter means no ticket rush, no queues, and even the hotels feel genuine. Dress warmly, wrap your scarf tight, and let the northwest wind blow away your worries—you’ll find the meeting of snow and sand, the dialogue between ancient sites and wilderness, all hidden in this off-season Dunhuang, waiting for those who understand to listen.