Musings on Himalayan meadows…
meadows and monsoons…
Category: Mountains
Notes on an effervescent mountain sun…
Musings on the mountain sun, trekking in the Himalaya
Cloudy threats…
Musings on cloudy weather, a day spent hiking the traditional pastoral lands of the Dhauladhars in Himachal Pradesh
bridges over troubled waters…
musings on log bridges in the Himalayan backcountry…
of a cemetery…
Musings on an old Parsi cemetery, Ranikhet, Uttarakhand
Spring in the backyard…
Spring in the mountains, a time when the sun is finally emboldened enough to begin scrubbing away the vestiges of winter, the cold begins to lose its bite and the canopy starts humming to the wind… the brooding dark winter is a time to contemplate, whilst on the other side of the vernal equinox, ‘tis …
Birds and running – musings on thandi sadak, Ranikhet…
Birds are one in the faunal realm that share the joie de vivre of running, meandering (out of breath) just for the sake of it (and some foraging, maybe), a seeming purposelessness that is whimsical and resolute at the same time… while other animals chase you, or recede into the thicket at the sound of …
on placid whites – winter hike to Chenap valley…
‘twas perchance that we got to know of Chenap valley, which we did as our original plans went awry at the last moment… tucked in ‘twixt religious fervours, highways and hydropower more hedonistic that utilitarian, and the never-ending scrapes of JCB for last-mile connectivity, ‘tis purported to be a quieter alternative to Valley of Flowers, …
on residues of mountain rains…
monsoons bring their own unique romance to the mountains, neither comparable to the pure white vistas of winter nor quite like the salubriousness of spring or autumn… the summers preceding them are not really scorching but still do tend to get on one’s nerves that the rains pacify, beginning with the petrichor and then moving …
on long walks in mountains…
there are walks in the mountains while hiking that one underestimates, naïve enough not to pay heed to the illusions of a simple way up wild gorges… the day elongates proportionally with the trail, disaggregated into phases that seem like days unto themselves, each phase anchored to its own particular memory… there’s a brief period …