September – a time of astronomical transitions and a last chance to take a long sojourn in the high mountains… for winters, save some initial sighs on never ending carpets of snow, make up for rather dull trudges… with the monsoons retreating – albeit with lesser and lesser predictability in the Anthropocene – one can see landscapes in both colour and without…

I haven’t been able to find the time to take pre-monsoon treks so far, July to December is what I usually contend with… never a bad bargain though… for there’s more life and activity around then… winters, in contrast, are rather quiet and contemplative… September, among all these months, is perhaps the most tranquil time… looking at the remnants of summer, one can feel winter seeping in as the autumn equinox beckons… sun and moon in brief moments of equitability… the sunsets are a riot and glaciers groan at night… a turn of season, a pore on the transience of everything… meadows turn from a kaleidoscope of colours to predominantly green and then a shade of ochre… ice and snow are almost always at minima…

‘Tis a microcosm of seasons, one climbs in summer and a little bit further crosses into the realm of the rain, at the pinnacle of the climb comes winter, and then one descends into spring… the weather can also show all its moods, sunshine mist hail and snow all making brief appearances in the course of a single day… life has a fixed template here, and come to think of it, so does the lack of it… from seasonal roulettes to the yawns of deep time, there’s scale everywhere and in everything… come September, there’s a sense of relief, having caught the scenery in the nick of time, and a sense of trepidation that one might be veering too close to the brooding portals of winter…

Musing on the outdoors, hikes in the Western Himalaya…