Love for the mountains have only grown for me.
As a girl who grew up on the foothills of the great Himalayan range it has to take its toll on me sooner or later.
I remember how my days went by …chasing butterflies making small shelters with leaves and twigs and now when I look back those were the best days of my life.
Sometimes In the morning after the storm has passed you could find birds’ nest on the garden grass and the joy of finding an egg inside were something I wish I could describe.
The taste of wild honey from a freshly caught comb nearby still lives on my tongue like a beautiful dream.
And the freshly plucked raw papayas we used to eat with salt and pepper oh so heavenly they tasted.
The smell of roses blooming outside and the veggies growing in the tiny kichen garden nearby.
All fills my heart with such awe.
The perennial streams flowing that never seems to dry
And the old fishing rod we used to borrow.
The tiny chicken farm we had with a bunch of chickens to breed.
The oldest of which used to protect the other chickens from mongoose plight.
I’m still proud of her for being so strong.
Oh what glorious days I have left behind.
I’m so grateful for the days I lived in that beautiful heaven.
And though they are all in the past now.
Im thankful I could visit them whenever I want.