The Last Tear of the Atlantic Ocean — a shade of blue purer than the South of France

The warm, moist currents of the North Atlantic travel eastward until they encounter the towering mountain ranges that block their path, finally transforming into a touch of blue beneath the Tianshan Mountains. If you are fortunate enough to witness this shade of blue, congratulations — you have encountered God's palette.

Panorama of Sayram Lake. Source: pexels@yanwei-lu

Arriving at Sayram Lake, the wind shatters the blue water into layer upon layer of ripples, turning that single shade of blue into thousands upon thousands of blues. They appear on the stacked stones, on the transparent floating ice of the frozen winter lake, on the splashes kicked up by playing swans, on the shadows cast upon the lake by passing clouds, and in the blue that blooms in the starlight scattered across the lake's surface when sunlight pierces through the clouds at six in the evening. This blue — is the blue of Sayram Lake.

Here, when you look at the mountains, they are not merely mountains — the distant, layered peaks are reflected in the churning water of the lake. When you look at the water, it is not merely water — it is the reflection of the majestic snow-capped mountains. And the blue here is not just the blue of the lake — it is the blue ice within the mountains, the blue sky that meets the snowy peaks, and the blue that emerges from the pink evening clouds reflected on the lake's surface.

Editor Ⅰ: Zhang Congxiao

Editor Ⅱ: Bao Gang

Editor Ⅲ: Pan Kaiyue