We were moving from a slightly cold Dalhousie to Mcleodganj and we passed by a stretch of a plain, barren but green. And there in the distant we had our first sighting of the snow capped peaks we sought to meet much later in the journey. They were gleaming in the distance, sun kissed. Standing tall and shining like it owned the place around.And I wrote down a small note, it felt as if the mountains were telling me the story of men.
From the shadows in the depths to the sunny heights. The shade of gracious friends, the trees to the visiting birds. We fly, ride and flow through surprising water streams. Vantage points to rest, recollect and look back before trudging ahead . And all along we take moments off to look up and stare, and there lies the sun kissed peak of gold towering above. The place we are headed.. For our speck of gold dust.
The call of the mountain is the call of life.
And we just walk and hope the sun doesn’t set on us.Read More