Colours of the fall.

I have always envied the American fall season. What little I saw of it always took my breath away, the sheer explosion of colours. I so wished we too had a similar season.

It turns out we do.

We were on a trek into the Hathi Parbat valley. It’s off the beaten track and not many know much about this valley. Which is all that much the better for us as we are happy being just by ourselves.

So here we were, having just spent our first night under the stars, ready to head out into the wilderness. The trail led into a lush forest and as soon as we crossed a stream I saw the valley on the other side. It was the same explosion of colour. The fall running riot among the leaves.

As we entered the valley I was surrounded by the same hues, the oranges, the browns, the deep reds and the mottled yellows. The path was littered with the leaves, softly crunching underfoot, the air suffused with the fragrance of the pine, the maple and the oak.

I had my wish. This was way better than what I had imagined. I sat on a rock and soaked it in. I saw a leaf, a dried maple, and on it were three water droplets, like three little pearls, the remains of the overnight dew. I saw a little lizard scampering across looking for a morning meal, and a beetle nearby fleeing hoping not to be the one.

I got up to carry on with the trek, the leaves softly crunching underfoot.