No time for rest; we traverse from one end to the other; flitting like flies in a million zones from one to another-ceaseless movement and exertion, for what, one might just ask? However the sand dunes near Hunder (Nubra Valley) called a halt to our efforts and we sank, digging in our toes deep inside the mound of softness that seared up the soles and made us jump at our futile attempts to sample the simplicity and preciseness of being boneless! Our only contribution to the ever-changing pattern was a disturbed and sorry looking tale of footprints.
But peace seeped in, there was quiet; a rush of the wind as it changed its voice for each song across a country that contrasted without giving us reasons: sand dunes in the middle of nowhere and water flowing clean and sharp on the pebbles that since ages memorized the feel of its inevitable touch. Walking on them and slipping in the soft gooey mud is another of its contrasting experiences for nothing beats the softness of this slush and tired feet come to a rest aching to just sink and dissolve. Alas there is no depth here; at least not on the stretch we explored. The green that dots a landscape of barren mountains, dry as toast is sharp and needled baring thorns to those who wish to creep any further inside its abode.
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