My aunt and uncle and I are eight hours away from the heavy gray blotch where Delhi hides. We’re one thousand and three hundred meters up, high enough to see through the plains, the silver river winding like a question mark through, low enough that thick forests surround our upward drive. Continue reading “Castles in the Air: Gap Year Week 22”
I am learning to look down as well as up lately.
After an evening when the rain came down in sheets, we woke up the next morning to a thin belt of rainbow curving over the mountains around, already disappearing with the morning sun. Indian mythology holds that rainbows are in fact indradanusha, the bow of Indra, the god of heaven. That morning with the world washed clean, the hills in the distance glowing with wildflowers, one could almost believe it.
Of course, by the time I got my camera out it had nearly disappeared. Go figure.
When I opened this picture up on my computer a few months ago, I played around a bit – trying to capture the wonder that tinged the moment. It felt, almost, that the god of heavens had touched this place so high in the sky – so close to eternity.
The name louseworts share really isn’t deserved.