Tantalising golden sunlight passes through the smoke rising from the chulha. Nostalgic wooden scent lingers like a faint remembrance of Naani’s home. Taking a walk along the trail laden with scarlett clock vines breathing in the mountain air, I feel like a lost soul returned home. Holding on to my pause moment, I look up to the vast blue sky, winter sun illuminates the landscape. I missed watching the sunrise as the choice of moving out from the warm blanket seemed momentarily unappealing and by the time I made up my mind the mountain morning was already in full bloom.
Mountains are not lazy. They stand erect bracing the dawn just in perfect time while my city bred body tries to keep pace with their schedule. But I am not complaining. School children pass by scattering their share of chirps into the silence. A blue magpie flutters out of the thick bamboo bush greeting the smaller birds like a king. The laughing thrush counties to chuckle as the black jay winds up the morning. It is an early riser, just perfectly in sync with pahaadi life.
smoky wooden flavors
bring home memories ~
Your words have painted a beautiful imagery of the morning at the mountains. ❤ !