Sleeping in late, still tired and achy from my travels, I vaguely remember it is a Monday.
But there is no rush, no hustle to get up, to go anywhere or get any work done.
I can see the sunlight filtering through the gaps in the curtains.
Sitting up slowly in bed, I draw back the curtains across the large bay windows.
And lo behold, a view of the snow capped Greater Himalayan ranges greets me.
A clear day, warm sunny skies, quite a contrast from the cold night that just went by.
I hesitate to get up. Something makes me stall my steps.
I could watch this view forever.
Far from the noise and chaos of the city.
I can hear the wind whistling through the deodar trees, crickets buzzing, a cowbell or two in the valley below, wind chimes, and an occasional bird call.
I walk out to the edge of the ridge, stretch my limbs and sit down continuing to be mesmerised by the mountains and the forests.
Time passes by, probably an hour, but I am not counting.
An otherwise intense silence, sometimes interrupted by two local mountain dogs barking and chasing each other along the edges of the ridge.
Grateful for the sudden and random decision to be here, I soak in the peace and quiet of my surroundings.
Spring has started growing its roots in the mountains,
Stirring up emotions that haunt my wandering soul.
I wonder what lies ahead of me this year.
The recent stretch has been quite unsettling.
At that moment, ever so slightly the wind caresses my face and fingers my hair sweeping it across my face,
As if to remind me that I am where I need to be.