Its 8am and I just came from the roof.
Tea, rice, dahl and vegetable curry fill my stomach.
The babies are asleep in the fabric swings and the ladies are cleaning up.
A wicker chair is my spot of choice.
I sit here on the third floor balcony, of the Asha Nepal house, and reflect:
Clothes hang beside me, sheltered from the sporadic rain showers.
Crickets buss and birds whistle.
Children scamper out the gate and down the road towards school.
Terraces of rice cover the luscious green mountains surrounding this valley.
Corn grows in the fields just below me, sunburnt from the hot Nepali days.
A woman yells up the stairs, her mind imprisoned by mental illness.
A breeze flows through, bringing refreshment from the early morning sun.
Smoke billows out of a nearby stack where men are at work crafting bricks.
A plane is in the distance preparing to land.
But for a few minutes I forget all of that.
Best of all is what I see in front of me.
Beyond the bustling city of Kathmandu and beyond the lower mountains of the valley.
A treat only enjoyed every odd morning before the cloud cover rolls in.
If you look closely, right through the settling mist, you can see this majestic sight
– the Himalayas.
I’m speechless.
Covered in snow and glaciers, they are completely white.
It is nature at its most powerful and all-consuming.
So much kinetic energy waiting to be released.
I sit in awe.
They aren’t like the Rockies, not like the French Alps.
The only range that might come close in comparison is Patagonia.
Stunning and still, vast and glorious; they stand proud and tall.
So much unknown, so much adventure and so much beauty.
This has been my home for the month.
