by Celia

Red, green, yellow, blue, white. Fire, water, earth, sky, air.  Prayer flags flutter in the wind sending blessings to the heavens.  A white dome, shrouded in offerings. Golden grass waving in the breeze.  Behind it all, the tall towering mountains, covered in snow, blanketed in clouds, rise with the sun shining upon them. The round hill of Annapurna South. The forked fish tail of Machapuchare. The wind whispers gently in my ear, a reminder to look at my beautiful surroundings. Picking up a rock from the ground, I gently lay it down on the shrine, setting an intention for my time in Nepal and a hope for these mountains. I close my eyes and breath in the cold, crisp alpine air, tasting its freshness. When I think about how these mountains came to be, it amazes me every time. We are so lucky to have something as beautiful as the Himalayas on our planet. Lucky to know that they won’t just disappear. Lucky to know that even as the world changes around us day by day, month by month, year by year, they will still be here, unchanged for millions of years to come. Maybe one day, a descendant of mine will stand in the exact same spot where I stand, looking up at these mountains. I open my eyes again, taking one last look at the sun shining on these massive majestic beauties before turning back to the stone stairs carved into the steep slope.