The tropical vegetation that had accompanied us for hours changes to pine and cedar, then to oak and fir and, finally, above the treeline, to dwarf rhododendron and grassland as we reach Chelela Pass. At the end of May, clouds allow only fleeting glimpses of Chomolhari Kang or ‘Divine Daughter,’ the 7000-metre pyramid of ice bordering China, and her sister peaks; but the vista of deep valleys and rolling mountains on all sides and thousands of colourful Buddhist prayer flags and chortens commemorating arduous journeys performed over the years are ample compensation.
The aura of serenity and thankfulness diverts the mind from any discomfort from the rarefied air at 4000 metres and the biting wind off the high Himalaya, even as the sound of fluttering pennants streaming out invocations to myriad gods and the cries of eagles wheeling in the infinite blue add cadence to one’s reflections on the awesomeness of nature and the fatuousness of man.
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