In the Valley of Flowers.
This is the most beautiful trek yet for me as you walk into the paradise. Though the valley was not in full bloom but it was yet beautiful.
From the time we landed in Lukla, we had not seen clear sky on any day, there by we had not quiet seen whole of the landscape we were trekking on. That's one of the reasons why many people avoid trekking in this region during off-season, it's not just because of the rain, cloud, Misty conditions, floods and landslides, but one can not clearly see any Mountains that are surrounding us as they are covered by the clouds. But as we hike up more than 4500m, the rain clouds go well below us and we get glimpses of the towering mountains. Today was the first of such day and with clear sky we could see many Mountains including the mighty Ama Dablam in it's wholeness for most part of the day. Honestly this was the best part of our trek, choosing off season was not bad after all, if we had done this during a proper season, may be we would have had a overdose of these mountains right from day 1, may be none of these mountains would have appeared to us as a surprise, but not knowing the whole of the landscape, it was a real surprise and fun for us. For most of the day anywhere we look at, we would be seeing only the clouds all over us and suddenly for just a little time the cloud clears the sky opens up and we see a whole lot of peaks, which we had no idea about and realize the sheer upland we were on. .
They're pacing and glowing bright,
Their faces all snowy and white,
Bury their paws in the stone,
They make for my heart as their home.
They tumble and fight,
And they're beautiful.
On the hilltops at night,
They are beautiful.
Blazing with light,
Is the whitest and the tallest and the biggest one,
She's muscled and fine,
When she hunts.
For my series #LettersToFindMe
An exquisite letter to an eight-year-old girl about being oneself: “A poet is somebody who feels, and who expresses his feelings through words.
This may sound easy. It isn’t.
A lot of people think or believe or know they feel — but that’s thinking or believing or knowing; not feeling. And poetry is feeling — not knowing or believing or thinking.
Almost anybody can learn to think or believe or know, but not a single human being can be taught to feel. Why? Because whenever you think or you believe or you know, you’re a lot of other people: but the moment you feel, you’re nobody-but-yourself.
To be nobody-but-yourself — in a world which is doing its best, night and day, to make you everybody else — means to fight the hardest battle which any human being can fight; and never stop fighting.
As for expressing nobody-but-yourself in words, that means working just a little harder than anybody who isn’t a poet can possibly imagine. Why? Because nothing is quite as easy as using words like somebody else. We all of us do exactly this nearly all of the time — and whenever we do it, we’re not poets.
If, at the end of your first ten or fifteen years of fighting and working and feeling, you find you’ve written one line of one poem, you’ll be very lucky indeed.
And so my advice to all young people who wish to become poets is: do something easy, like learning how to blow up the world — unless you’re not only willing, but glad, to feel and work and fight till you die.
Does that sound dismal? It isn’t.
It’s the most wonderful life on earth.
Or so I feel.” @bijniswoman
#BijnisWoman #Poet#Trek#HamptaPass #BWinHampta
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